Grey, beige and brown. Temporarily.

The rains have stopped, for now, and we've been able to visit the beaches of Boundary Bay several times in the last week or so. It's still winter, though; the wind is sharp and bitter, making my eyes water and my nose run. Each time, we have found the tide dropping, still too high to expose more than a few snails and worm casts. Birds there are a-plenty, all far in the distance, waiting for low tide and feeding time.

After a few minutes at the water's edge, we turned inland, to the dry, grey upper beach, apparently almost bare of life at this time of year.

Driftwood scattered along the upper tide line and across the dunes, interspersed with mats of dried shrubs, sedge, and grass spikes

Artistic arrangement, by Ma Nature, with a bit of help from young humans. Who, after all, are part of the natural world, too.

Dry grass, wind-broken. The roots below are alive and well.

Large-headed sedge, Carex macrocephala, anchoring its patch of sand. It is not dead, but resting; its rhizomes under the sand are waiting for warm weather.

On a rotten log, a bleached half of a clamshell wears a corsage of dried seaweeds.

A worn, twisted driftwood log, with a worried face

Rotting wood, dotted with lichens

Weather-beaten, wrung-out log provides shelter for green mosses and yellow lichen.

Moss and blue-grey leaf lichen.

With the coming of longer days, the spring rains, and a sunny afternoon or two, the dry sand will erupt in greenery; big-headed sedge, groundsel, gumweed, beach pea, sea rocket, and red sorrel; bees and butterflies will dance from flower to tiny flower; grasshoppers will leap away as we approach, abandoned kids' toys will provide accents in primary colours. It won't be long now.