morning in White Rock

"So, how are the new digs?" a friend innocently asked. She knew we weren't living the desired scenario. "It's Okay", I responded. "small, but we'll survive".

And that is the truth. The place is acceptable, comfortable... nice even. It might be a long way to drive to school, but what it lacks in convenience, it sure makes up for in scenery.

Saturday morning I woke early and felt in dire need of a good walk. As luck would have it, I had the foresight to snatch up my camera on the way out - you never know what you might see along the way. I was mighty glad I did, because it was a glorious morning with a fiery sunrise to welcome in the day.

Would you believe, these first two shots were taken out the front of the place we are staying in. Breathtaking.

A fine mist curled up from the pond like steam from a coffee cup. A Great Blue Heron rested in a meditative pose on the edge of a nearby bridge, and an approaching train wailed in the distance.

During my walk, I stopped to watch the water birds - one last look at the Canadian Geese - they would be migrating South for the winter soon, and so will I.

Many walkers and thinkers were out that brisk morning. It seems the morning truly does have some kind of magical property - the energy of awakening - a buzz that comes with a new day, a new beginning and a new opportunity.

I returned home as the sky, now soothed of its raging oranges and reds, after walking the length of the jetty; stopping briefly to watch the tethered sail boats bobbing in the icy water. The tranquil sound of the lapping water was interspersed by the hungry call of circling gulls and that fore-mentioned train; now snaking its way along the coast. I wondered what the train driver must see along his journey, and whether this section of the journey brought him as much delight as it did me - what a brilliant way to start the day.