The suite at the bed and breakfast looked out over a wind and wave-swept beach, with breakers crashing into black craggy rocks on a nearby island. We crossed the expanse of low-tide sand to explore those rocks, finding starfish and sea urchins, and blue-green iridescent shimmers in seaweed beds swirled by waves. I walked back barefoot, not cold at all; the sun had warmed the sand just enough.
After a delicious dinner (watching an exciting hockey game, boo, the Canucks lost), we returned to the beach in the dark. The waves rolled in tinted green with phosphorescence, and above the sky was crowded with stars. We coaxed a fire to roaring life, and relaxed in its heat, listening to the rush of the ocean. Hundreds of small beach critters provided macabre humour as they flung themselves into the fire pit with what looked like joyful abandon. What can I say … it was funny!
I can’t believe the great sleep I had … no need to listen for small voices, no watching the clock. No streetlights. No cars. Just darkness and the ocean.
Breakfast was left for us just outside our door. Eggs benedict with smoked salmon, fresh fruit, and squeezed juice. It was slightly too chilly to eat on our balcony, but we still had a view of the ocean and the beach from our table.
Pure heaven, and a wonderful kid-free retreat for me and Leif. So many thanks to Betty, who braved a trip to Comox with Cameron, a bonding adventure for just the two of them. And to Leif. For arranging the rest of it. For being there with me. And for being Leif.