Bumper sticker on a van on Chilco Street as I walked towards the marine fog over English Bay:
Jesus is coming
On a path from Beach Avenue to the Seawall, a woman stopped me to inquire if I knew anything about the migrating snow geese that were being photographed near English Bay. At the end of our ten minutes’ conversation I knew, amongst other things, that her Russian father, born just south of Moscow, had been a carpenter in the Gulag. Not a prisoner. How he got from Siberia to Vancouver seems to have been overland by way of the Aleutians.
One of the regular artisans was setting up at his regular spot in a small cove by the Bay, and I asked if he were setting up for business. He responded, ‘No, I’m setting up to enjoy the day, before it’s gone.’
The early morning was one of silvery light and resting fog; and, in the oceanic distance, a brighter light of the sun. An exquisite hour of life.