Second Beach on English Bay, less than two minutes' walk from home...People come to sit on the logs, or right at the water's edge, to see the sun go down. It is quiet and somehow reverent, everyone sharing a simple, aeon's-old experience. The mountains around and beyond the bay turn smoky blue and purple in turn as their successive ridges recede in paleness, and the longer you stay, the more interesting the clouds become. Kayaks on the water point west, too, floating in place for hours, in no hurry at all. In the distance tankers lie at anchor and yachts move across the water and sometimes a dragon boat's crew in silhouette paddles over the bay into False Creek.