|Arbutus Beach ... a small wave rolls into the shore|
Too tired she said.
So I laid in bed with her for a few minutes, since she said “Tell me some stories,” and I always have stories to tell.
My days are so lovely here.
Now it is 10 pm and I hadn’t done my last 1,000 steps, so out I went into the warm night air. The moon was already high in the sky. A few other walkers were out. The joggers seems to fly by in the early morning, which is the time I choose to walk down to the cove again.
The ground is becoming marked with objects and waters: Coleman coolers and bunnies.
|Arbutus Beach ... the tide goes out|
Today I almost stepped on a tiny bunny that skittered its way back under the ivy that was growing out over the sidewalk.
I wondered if that rabbit knows how to miss going under thorny vines of the raspberry bush nearby.
Perhaps by sad experience.
A couple of days ago I saw a blue and white Coleman cooler at the head of the stairs that lead to the beach. I looked inside.
Water, but now wind had blown dirt and other debris into the cooler.
I was wondering how it have filled with water, but on thinking about that again, of course, it must have been filled with ice for a party that someone was having on the grassy area by the parking log.
Is this the stuff they are referring to when they saw Wrack Zone?
The first day I saw the cooler, I only looked inside.
It was just abandoned there, on the other side of the fence where there is a sign that says, No Dumping, By Order of the City of Sanich.
The second day I turned it over to drain it out.
Today I found myself dragging it over by the garbage.
Every morning I see that people have stacked their empty pop and beer cans there for the garbage men to take away.
One day I saw a twin mattress laid against the side of the garbage.
Not having any idea how and why that was used, I just put a pass on thinking about that anymore.
The early morning sun hits the water.
Tomorrow morning I shall check and see if the blue Coleman cooler is still there as I walk to the beach.
I am of the mind to ask Rebecca to bring it home. I could wash it out and she could store her garden tools in it.
But I am smart enough not to ask.
She would say no even louder than Steve would.