Beachin'

After reading Herman's latest post, which chronicled his trip to the Hague and all the wonderful sights there, I felt compelled to get out and do a bit of a journey avec camera, myself! Here are the results of that longing!
Yesterday, We were graced with a rare set of matching days off. The weather here was quite gray and overcast, so we headed west, an hours drive to White Rock, where the weather is always nicer than in Maple Ridge. We left cloud and entered into sun. It was lovely!

We walked along the beautiful white sand beach.

It was low tide so lots of tidal pools were being inspected by curious children and adults alike. Some were gathering kelp for their dinners.

Many a crab corpse lay on the sand, remnants of a seagulls lunch! Some as large as six inches across the back, and some as tiny as one inch. Lots of breathing holes in the sand gave evidence of the shellfish below the sand. Some folks were there digging up their dinner with sticks.

Out on the water, were plenty of floats indicating crab traps. Such a rich place if you like seafood. The police made their presence felt and were there checking on the pier for unlicensed fishers.

The train tracks run parallel to the walkway. There is an old heritage train station along here too, that is now an information center and gift shop.

This town has done a wonderful job of fundraising through memorial plaques. In one area there is a path lined with brass maple leaves and this area, lined with dual rows of train engines, each committed to the memory of a lost loved one.

People, like this gentleman, seem to enjoy perusing the memorials. I could sit all day watching people and sneaking their pictures. Right from small children to senior citizens.

These little girls were from different families but struck up a friendship on the beach. One was allowed to strip down and paddle in the pools. The other had to keep on her coat and shoes and was not permitted to get wet. Which child got the most out of their day I wonder? It was nice and warm but breezy.

As we headed home, we crossed the Port Mann Bridge, towards the mountains that landmark the town we call home.

This picture is not too clear as it was taken through the car window. The closer you get to the mountains, the more ominous the clouds. It always amazes me to see the difference in climates within just a few short miles in this region. It was a nice afternoon with my man. And he waited so patiently while I took my two hundred photos.