|Sunshine, fog, and the gulls flying ...|
|White breasts all in a row|
|More wing than gull|
This little girl brought back memories. I was her, so many years ago. She moved along slowly, on hands and knees, examining each spot carefully. Once, she jumped up and ran to show her mother something she'd found. A minute later, she was back, searching through the stones again.
At one point she opened her arms as wide as possible, as if to embrace the whole marvellous beach. I know what she meant.
|Crow on a log. Some of the brush keeps its red colour all winter.|
|From the Semiahmoo beach, a hint of sunset, with birds flying into it.|
|The afternoon train, between the promenade and the actual beach.|
|Eagle, far overhead. Another golden juvenile?|
|Bald eagles, very annoyed. They were sitting on the rail by the railroad, and the train chased them off.|
|Late afternoon fog creeping in, slightly tinted by the setting sun.|
I lived just up the hill a ways from this beach the year I was 11, back when the dinosaurs were still roaming about. I loved it then, I love it now; but more so on foggy days like this, with the gulls calling.