Intellectually, I understand what causes low tides to occur, but it still feels supremely weird to see how far ocean water can retreat before eventually, steadily pouring back in to where it once was. Watching an entire ecosystem temporarily morph into something different, being able to suddenly walk across a bay, or stroll to an island, it just seems so strange to me, like it shouldn’t be possible but there it is.
Maybe I was a Neanderthal in a past life and these ordinary aspects of nature still seem like magic. Whatever it is, I’m happy that I live close enough to the ocean that I can go and stare gap-jawed when the tide goes out.
Yesterday I went to Ambleside Park and foolishly turned down some sunscreen despite it being a sunny day in the mid 20s. My arms were a slight tinge of red last night but fortunately they faded by this morning. Lesson learned: I cannot beat the sun through sheer mind power. It has been a very long time since I’d been to Ambleside and Nic had never been, so we drove on over, parked and had a gander at the sights (the ocean, the beach, Stanley Park, the Lions Gate bridge, shirtless guys playing basketball) and went on a walk down the seawall, which, unlike the one in Stanley Park, borders along private housing. It is still somewhat amazing to me that almost all beachfront property in the city is open to the public and not barricaded behind someone’s fence.
The seawall in Ambleside is also different in that it is pedestrian-only. They have a sign on the walk that indicates it is pedestrian-friendly, though it’s a little weird to me:
It looks like they are just plain thanking you for the act of walking itself. At worst it simply promotes the stereotype of Canadians being so darned polite, so I’m not objecting.
Here’s a shot looking down the beach at low tide. Nothing funny is happening in the picture, so I have nothing funny to add to it:
Further along the seawall there is a sculpture dubbed the German Friendship Globe:
Perhaps this is Germany’s way of saying “We promise not to try to conquer the world again!” The globe sits in water and slowly rotates. You can push or pull on the globe to change the rotation, too, which is neat. I planned to get it spinning correctly and then grab a pic of North America as it came into view (so I could add a big YOU ARE HERE with arrow) after a small girl tried to see what would happen if the Earth was suddenly shifted dramatically off its axis, but after futzing with it for a minute I couldn’t get it quite right and Nic wanted ice cream and I like ice cream more than German Friendship Globes so what you see here is mainly Australia at a bit of an angle.
The ice cream was good. We ate it while sitting on a bench, soaking up the rays. Nic got sunburnt even though he wore sunscreen. Sure, you can push around a planet but no one messes with the sun.
