Sand Heads

On Wednesday I chose to remain in Richmond. Steveston was my destination. Once packed with fish canneries, Steveston is now a historic site. There are walkways and old buildings, and best of all a big park at the mouth of the South Arm of the Fraser River. 

The sun was shining. All looked good. But first I hit the mall. I was looking for a little packsack. Lured in by the Apple sign, I went in to ask about adding memory to my iMac. A friendly rep checked and said yes it was possible to manually add memory myself, but I would have to buy it elsewhere. 

I asked about iPads, and looked and tested both iPad Pro and iPad Air. I said I would return later. Oh what dreamy machines. So much storage. So thin, so big a screen for an iPad.. 

I bought a nice little backpack at Lululemon, stuffed my purse in, and headed for the bus stop. I thought I knew the Steveston buses well from my winter in Steveston fifty years ago, but I made an error. I asked the driver of the 301 if he were going to Steveston and he said yes. 

But hey, wait! He was turning east at Steveston Highway, and heading in the opposite direction. I spoke to the driver who said this was Steveston Highway. My mistake. I ought to have been more clear and said Steveston village or something. Richmond is bigger busier place now and not every driver knows everything about everywhere. 

I got off at the next stop, which was at a Buddhist temple. I crossed Steveston Highway and waited for a bus going the other way. I waited quite awhile and felt it was God’s will that I was sitting across from the Buddhist temple, and should cultivate peace in my mind and life. 

When a bus came to take me back, I was told it would probably be faster to go back to downtown Richmond and get the right one from there. So I did. All the way back to Brighouse, the centre of new Richmond. This time I caught the right bus, and escaped new Richmond and finally got to older Richmond.

As a heritage area, the Steveston is mercifully free of towers and shopping malls. I walked paste old canaries, heading for the area once known as Sand Heads, now called Garry Point. Once my young daughter and I roamed the sand dunes of a wild natural area here. Now there is semi-natural park area, complete with park benches and lookout sites. 

But first I stopped at a little place at the edge of the park for fish and chips, which I never eat and can’t stand, but this time… I ordered some and sat and ate in the fresh air by the sunny river/ocean. It was my vacation after all. A delicious meal. And then…

There was a brisk west wind, and the air was fresh and clean. Some people were flying kites. I got to a spot where the current of the river was churning wildly. I was right at the end of the point, where the river met the ocean. I stood and stared for quite awhile. A magic place.

And following my instinct, I trudged along north a bit from the park and found another magic spot and sat out on a log with the blackbirds singing and flying around me. Here I stayed and let the sun and wind and blackbirds sing around me until the time came when I really did have to leave.

I don’t know if I will ever return, and I hope I never forget the healing power of the sun, wind, ocean, and blackbird music in that place. That was my marvellous Wednesday.

On the way home I did return to the Apple Store, but all the reps were busy so I left, grateful to have escaped the temptation to spend money I don’t have on something I don’t need. Tomorrow I would be going home.