... and on to Steveston

Before we left the Buddhist temple (see previous post), we walked around the parking lot to a road leading to tall trees, gleaming in the sunlight. At an open gate, a sign read, "No entry to gardens," but we rationalized that this was for cars trying to drive through to find an exit, and walked on. A couple of workers saw us and smiled, so it must have been ok.

The trees were covered in large pussy-willows; Laurie got out the camera again.


Afterwards, we got back on the road and drove down to the old fishing village of Steveston. We ate lunch in a sandwich place, then meandered through gift shops on our way down to the pier.

The boardwalks were deserted; it's early in the season, and the crowds mostly show up on weekends, even in summer. A pair of Greater Scaups* in their best breeding finery were fishing in the quiet water.


It's not often we get to see these; their habitat is tundra and boreal forests, but sometimes they winter this far south. And they are divers, eating clams and crabs and the like, so are less interested in humans than the hand-out loving mallards. It was a real treat to see them paddling back and forth in the sunlight or diving for crabs, which are plentiful in Steveston. The female came up once with something that glinted like a fish, but could have been vegetation.

* I identify them as Greater Scaup, because the head of the male had the green sheen. The Lesser is almost identical, but his head shines purple.

A young seagull, tipping his head to see what Laurie was up to. Notice the barring on the underside of his tail. I hadn't been in a position to see that before.


Reflections on the water along the docks.


And flotsam. Frayed rope, bits of wood, you-name-it. It made an interesting pattern, I thought.

The sun was setting; we headed home for supper, tired, but exhiliarated.