Stanley Park

A ten minute walk from Vince's apartment, along the sea wall, and you are in Stanley Park. The smell of fresh sea weed, salt water, old trees, more moss; the view of tankers anchored in English Bay waiting to unload or load in Canada's busiest port; beaches of rock and pebble and the sandy ones with rows of parallel logs placed for picnics and firework viewing. The quiet lapping of small waves and the drip of clear water from the land side as it filters over the huge rocks where the roots of redwoods are entangled in the granite...

This was also a return to apparently typical Vancouver weather...

Sneaky Frenchie.

A sandwich of the most luscious duck prosciutto - more like smoked duck, unctuous with fat and redolent of woodsmoke - bought from the food market on Granville Island. We sat on a log and ate these and drank chilly red wine from a flask and watched a spaniel with saddle bags strapped to him hunt for a ball in the cold water....

In the realm of the trees, this is most definitely the memory it evoked. Places through movies...

Leaves. So many leaves.



The north side of Stanley Park, overlooking Burrard Inlet. More a planted park than the wild of the interior...


Lining my ducks up in a row...