A Walk on the Beach

Do you like walking on the beach? We do. Come along with us.

This is French Beach, not long, but oh, so pretty. It's a little ways out of town so we don't get here very often. But my husband had to look at a job out in Sooke, so we decided to go a little further and walk here.

See that big hunk of rock on the right of the picture - not the small one all by itself, but the craggy pile that looks like it's connected to the land. It's not. We clambered over rocks big and small and perched on top to eat our lunch and drink our thermos tea. It's an experience that can hardly be improved upon. Well, I do wish I had sat on the foam mat my husband always has in his pack because the rock was a little cool and damp on my behind. But the view made me forget about that little convenience.

Here's the view back from the rocks towards the beach. Clinging to the rocks were all kinds of barnacles and mussels. The mussels made me long to cook a bouillabaisse or perhaps paella. But this is a park, so we left all the mussels happily holding onto their rocky perches.

I used my underwater macro setting to take pictures of sea life in tidal pools. I thought it was a silly setting on my camera because I knew the camera wasn't waterproof, so why have an underwater setting? But it's for taking pictures THROUGH the water, not in the water. I guess I should have read the instruction book.
Amazing critters live in the water.

 

Here's a close up. Look at those colours. And if these creatures are disturbed, say, by a gentle prodding, they close up tightly, and all of those lovely fronds and petals are tucked inside.

The artistry of the water is amazing. Delicate traceries on the sand look like meticulous brushwork by a fine artist. Doesn't it look like waving ferns or kelp? The rocks are in the picture to provide a little context.

 

Oh look, someone else was drawing on the sand. I wonder who that could have been....

More underwater pictures. Tidal pools full of swaying grass, bits of coral (I think), and tiny, intricate shells. An amazing world contained in a gallon of sea water captured in a rocky depression.

One last parting glimpse of French Beach. Although it was around 2:00 in the afternoon, the light was soft and diffused, casting a silvery net over the water and sand. In the distance, a cargo ship makes its way through the Strait of Juan de Fuca, and beyond, the Olympic Mountains of Washington poke up through the clouds.

Home again. Refreshed. As my husband says, "Being outdoors is good for the soul."