A Misty Morning Walk - Steve, Me and a Vodka Bottle - and a Tribute to George Donaldson of Celtic Thunder

Saturday morning, a bit rainy and a lot windy - a perfect day for Steve and me to hit Iona Beach for a long hike to the end of the 8 kilometre pier. And yes, that's only one way. The 8 kilometres, I mean.

Of course we had a mission - to toss a bottle containing a white rose, red ribbon, and a prayer/poem from a bestie in Calgary in memory of a much loved member of Celtic Thunder, George Donaldson. For those of you not familiar with this band and this singer, enjoy while you read on - The Parting Glass - one of my favourite songs. It's a bit sad. though.

The first step was to find a bottle. One may think that wouldn't be a problem, however, one would be wrong. I finally did find an empty Vodka bottle, although a Scotch one would have been more appropriate. If I lived closer to my sisters-in-law I don't think I would have a problem finding a wine bottle ... however, this lone Vodka bottle was destined to hit the briny ocean waves.

Next step - a white rose. These aren't as plentiful as one would think, however Save-On-Foods had a few in their Roses-By-The-Each Bucket, and the gal there was kind enough to give us some red ribbon, as my ribbon supply was obviously hiding some place where I couldn't find it.

Next step was a misty raindroppy drive to Iona Beach. Steve parked - the lot was almost full with cars - people getting ready for the Sun Run - and the roadways were crammed with bicyclers dressed in stretchy black pants zipping along on skinny tires. Busy place for a Sunday morning. And some of them had the joy of watching us try to push, shove, poke, and squeeze a nice fat rose into a vodka bottle. 

Poor little rose.

Then we started the walk along the jetty. Yup, that could have very well been the two of us below, pretty chipper on our way out ....

 ... with me trying to hide the fact I was carrying a vodka bottle with me at 10 o'clock on a Saturday morning.

The colours in the sky and the ocean were amazing -

 and since we were near the airport, we got to see the bellies of some of the planes that were arriving.

 And guess what shared the air with the planes? Right! Eagles - quite a few of them, actually. They seemed to be checking out what the low tides were offering for their Saturday brunch. Unfortunately, I didn't get any pics of them on the way back, even though there was one sitting on a post a few yards away .... you'll find out why later.

We finally made it to the end, where there were a few steps leading up to a lookout. I wasn't sure if I could climb these few steps, but I did. Steve got ready to fling the bottle - and I got ready to video it - but he suggested I take a panorama sweep, which I did .....

... at least, I started to do - before the battery in my I Phone died. But at least you can hear the wind blowing, and imagine the smell of the salt air - because this, my friends, is the big and beautiful Pacific Ocean!

So, I'm sorry to say, I have no picture of Steve with his throwing hand up in the air, as he pivoted and took a few steps forward, and let fly. That bottle just sailed up in the air, and arched over the waves - then hit with such a bang we were sure it had broken. But it hadn't - we watched it bob up and down in the waves for a while.

Even though we both hope it travels far and wide, at that moment we were both pretty much sure it would beat us back to the beach. 

However, from a loving lady in Calgary, Alberta, through the hands of two fans from Surrey, British Columbia, a big Thank You to George Donaldson for sharing his beautiful voice with our world. 

The Old Man
An Ordinary Man

A Rainy Day at White Rock .. Crescent Beach ... Ocean Park .. Whatever - 1000 Steps, Lots of Rocks, and a Long Black Train1000 steps

Last night, I happened to mention the 1000 steps that lead to a secluded beach near White Rock, and Steve asked if I wanted to go 'tomorrow.' Knowing that 'tomorrow' was going to be an immensely rainy day which would negate the decision, I said 'Sure.'

However, I went upstairs this morning and realized the rain was light, so when Steve asked if I still wanted to go. I only hesitated a moment ... then said, 'Sure.'

I don't know much about these step, only that they are between White Rock and Crescent Beach, there are not 1000 of them, and they wind their way down a very steep cliff.

And we were okay with that. At least on the way down.

The rain was more of a heavy drizzle, but as you can see, the wooden steps were quite wet, which meant we both had to be very careful. Neither one of us wanted to carry the other back up.

And guess what we found? Yet another sign of spring - teeny little green leaves popping out all over the place!

About half way down. We tried not to think about the return journey.

Ah. Finally. Now a little uphill path ....

Past a tree with some sort of bird high in the branch - a hawk, I believe. Funny thing is, I didn't even see the bird until I loaded the pictures on the computer. Then I zoomed in and Bazinga! A bird!

And finally, a beach, a beach just like back home in Newfoundland beach, all full of smooth round stones and sloshing waves.

See? A White Rock beach ...

Steve and Neil

... and a Newfoundland beach ...

The little boy has all grown up .. as has his big brother who now drives me all over BC in the Big White Truck!

Now if I were mean, I would tell you to stare at the centre of this pic for 25 seconds, then look at a white wall. But I won't. This was a mistake click when I obviously was lowering the phone ... but it's pretty cool. I call it My Artistic Swirl. I hope it doesn't make you dizzy.

It was so good to hear the waves rolling up on the shore - this video only partly loaded, unfortunately.

 

After filling up our pockets with pretty rocks, we headed back to the under-the-railroad tunnel, Steve thought it would be a great idea to stand in the tunnel while the train went overhead, and since we could hear the lonely whistle of one nearby, we decided to try it. The tunnel is the only far-from-Nature art installation in sight, and while I thought of it as grafitti that sort-of spoiled the unspoiled scene, Steve thinks of it as modern day art. Kind of like the cave-man drawings of eons ago. I can dig that, man.

I did take a video of us standing under the track, but I can't load it here or on my Face Book page, so I guess it's only available if you come visit me and my I Phone. However, rest assured, when that train started to rumble overhead, it was only a matter of seconds that the two of us fought to get out first. So much for giving up my life for my child.

(Only kidding. I would any time.)

And here is the culprit - a long train hauling coal somewhere.

So now we start our trek home ... first the path ...

... then the stairs ....

... about half way up ...

... some of us were a bit slower than others ....but you can tell from here how far up he was from me ...

... and we made it. 

It's actually not 1000 Steps. It's only about 300. I'm sure I do that many every day I'm home, going upstairs and downstairs about a thousand times anyway. The going down was fine, the going up got a bit tiring the farther we went, but it's certainly nothing to frighten you away.

And it's a good job we went when we did - because later on the afternoon, the rain started in earnest. And as far as I know it's still coming down pretty hard. Hopefully I won't have to borrow Howard's canoe to get to work in the morning!