Back to the Beach
Some big changes of late. I have moved from Langley back to Crescent Beach.
From the Fraser Valley back to the ocean again.
It has only been just over a week and yet I am feeling fitter already from walking the beach with the dog twice a day.
Even today when the wind is blustery and the rain is blowing sideways, Jada and I have had our walk to the sea in the wind and the rain.
The ocean is in my blood, the house we lived in when I was born looked over Oak Bay Harbour in Victoria. My sister would take me in my pram bumping down over the rocky hillside to the beach.
When we first moved from Victoria to West Vancouver's Fisherman's Cove, we were half a block from the cove. It was only later that we moved farther than walking distance to the sea. But 20 minutes by car or bus would get us there.
When my parents retired to Denman Island, their house sat on the cliff side overlooking the water. I would follow the path that led through my mother's garden down through the pasture to the sea. I walked miles along that beach on my visits to see them.
At the time I was again living in Langley, an hour's drive inland. Horse country, drying and hotter in the summer, colder in the winter, despite the short distance.
When I would feel out of sorts I would drive to White Rock or Crescent Beach to get my ocean fix.
This is where I feel my most whole, my most creative, my most content.
It is so good to be back home at the sea.
It has only been just over a week and yet I am feeling fitter already from walking the beach with the dog twice a day.
Even today when the wind is blustery and the rain is blowing sideways, Jada and I have had our walk to the sea in the wind and the rain.
The ocean is in my blood, the house we lived in when I was born looked over Oak Bay Harbour in Victoria. My sister would take me in my pram bumping down over the rocky hillside to the beach.
When we first moved from Victoria to West Vancouver's Fisherman's Cove, we were half a block from the cove. It was only later that we moved farther than walking distance to the sea. But 20 minutes by car or bus would get us there.
When my parents retired to Denman Island, their house sat on the cliff side overlooking the water. I would follow the path that led through my mother's garden down through the pasture to the sea. I walked miles along that beach on my visits to see them.
At the time I was again living in Langley, an hour's drive inland. Horse country, drying and hotter in the summer, colder in the winter, despite the short distance.
When I would feel out of sorts I would drive to White Rock or Crescent Beach to get my ocean fix.
This is where I feel my most whole, my most creative, my most content.
It is so good to be back home at the sea.
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