Turning Back the Clock

Living in Nofo (Kitsilano to pretty much everyone besides me and Paul — but that will change!) is making me 22 again, I swear — minus the 80s music and the youthful skin. I haven't lived in this neighbourhood in that long, so simply wandering these streets as a resident is taking me back to the year I spent in this building at York and Vine (below), sharing a sprawling one-bedroom place with my friend Alexa ... surviving my first year of teaching, while the ever-smiling Alexa brained her way through law school.

That's the psychological time warp. The other youth-inducing feature of this neighbourhood is the hills. I'd forgotten how hilly it is here. Taking Freddie anywhere involves hoofing up steepish inclines — great for the baseline fitness level (though I seem to remember cursing out the hills when I was in my twenties — what a wuss).

I haven't really succeeded in capturing the steepness of Vine Street here, but you get the general idea:

As you make your way uphill from the beach along Vine or Yew or whatever, you encounter these benches at almost every cross street — not bus stops, just places to park your butt and rest or admire the view or whatever. 

At this point we switch to Heather's new camera/toy — an early b-day present from Paul, to one who is actually a very long way away from 22.

Freddie came that close to squirming under this doorway and going for a plunge in Kits pool. I'm not sure what I would have done if he'd made it and been unwilling or unable to squirm back ... jumped the fence after him? Called Parks & Rec? It would have made an interesting story, but I was mighty relieved when I pretended to leave and he came bounding after me.

Presumably, this is what he was going after. 

I promise not to get too carried away with freighters. Here I'm experimenting with my new high-powered zoom function. These boats are actually ten nautical miles away. ;-)

They physics of a dog's shake are quite extraordinary.

Come summertime, this beach will be thronged with sunbathers and volleyballers, and leashed dogs will watch wistfully from the sidelines. For now, Freddie's in his heaven.

More freighters, I know, but isn't it a groovy shot?

To borrow my friend Leigh's comment from this post, dead seagull is the new Givenchy.

Driftwood is another area in which I'll need to exercise some restraint.

Happy Thursday, everyone!