The Northern Lights
The whole world, it seems, was caught up with the light show happening in the skies above two nights ago, thanks to a geomagnetic storm on our nearest star. I myself jumped on the bandwagon and took a walk down to the beach around 11 p.m. to see what I could see.
To be honest? I was a little disappointed. As soon as I stepped out into my street, I looked up and saw a green haze overhead, visible even with all the light pollution generated in my neighbourhood, one of the most densely-populated postal codes in all of Canada. Down by the water, where it’s much darker, I could see that the haze was definitely aurora borealis, but it was faint. I set up my tiny camera on my tiny tripod, balanced it on a beach log, and tried a variety of exposures. This photo, taken with a 30-second exposure, was the best of the lot. The only editing I did was some cropping. That pink you see? Not visible to the naked eye. It only comes through with the long exposure.
Some years ago, I was travelling from Nanaimo to Vancouver late at night, and spent most of the ferry trip on the outer deck in the dark, watching a vivid display of dancing emerald green over the North Shore mountains. At the time, I didn’t know what I was looking at, but later realized it must have been the Northern Lights I had witnessed.
I didn’t know what I was looking at because it’s rare to see the Northern Lights this far south. In Alberta, they were almost routine. I remember many a winter’s night in Edmonton seeing white streaks of light in the sky like will-o’-wisps as I went about my evening.
The most spectacular Northern Lights’ display I’ve ever seen, and my first time seeing them in colour, was one summer while camping in northern Alberta with my sister and a friend. This was the same friend I had trained around Europe with the year before, and she and I started reminiscing about our travels as we sat around the campfire. My sister had long gone to bed when we noticed the Northern Lights above us. The mesmerizing dance of pink and green was unlike anything I’d ever seen.
I was kinda hoping for the same the other night. My suspicions are that the light pollution of downtown Vancouver interfered with my experience.
Even so, we got lucky this weekend with summer-like temperatures, so it didn’t take much effort to step out for a quick stroll before bed, and share an amazing other-worldly experience with dozens of strangers doing the same.
Danger: Thin Ice
We had our week of winter this past week and we got it all: polar vortex, Arctic outflow, and 28 centimetres of snow.
That’s the most snow we’ve had in one go since 1996, but the sad reality is any amount of snow pretty much shuts down the city and makes the national news.
And the rest of Canada laughs.
The sustained colder temperatures made for some thin ice conditions. This is Lost Lagoon. And yes, the kids were playing pond hockey at the other end of the lagoon the day before the snow fell. I like my ice a little thicker, but I’m sure it made for some lasting memories for those kids who did get out on the ice.
Merry Christmas!
Burrard Street, Vancouver
Through My Lens: Golden Maple on Lost Lagoon
It’s been a while since I’ve posted a photo of our fall colours. And so, here’s one that I took a couple of weeks ago.
My West End
Last August, I had my cat-sitters over one evening for a picnic dinner to thank them for watching over my fur babies while I was away in Alberta. As soon as they arrived, we gathered up the dinner and some beach blankets and headed to the end of my street.
The end of my street is a grassy, treed spot between two beaches, never crowded but with a perfect view of the sunset. As a backyard, it’s great — even though I share it with the entire neighbourhood. At one point during the evening, I looked around at the dozens of people enjoying their own picnics, and marvelled at how much I love where I live, and that, even after living here for a quarter of a century, I have yet to tire of it.
Yup, you read that right. Twenty-five years ago today, I moved into my first apartment in the West End. And as long as I’ve been writing and posting on this blog, I’ve been sharing photos and stories about my home. It’s why I called the blog There and Back Again.
Because I always come back.
In honour of this momentous anniversary, here are some of my favourite, previously unposted, photos of my West End.
Through My Lens: English Bay Paddlers
When you live by English Bay, you never know what you’ll see on the water. Thanks to the power of my camera’s zoom lens, I was able to get this shot early yesterday morning.
Dishing: Paul
After the upheaval of the past few years, I am still marvelling at what a treat it is to be able to meet up with friends in restaurants again. Such a little thing, really. And yet such a big thing.
And so it was that I found myself on Robson Street for a lunch date yesterday. Paul is as ubiquitous in Paris as Starbucks is in Vancouver and I was thrilled when I heard that a location of this longtime French institution was coming to my home city.
Paul in the Jardin des Tuileries
The bakery and café’s Vancouver location — the only one in all of Canada — has been open since 2021, but yesterday was my first visit (because, you know, pandemic).
Paul on Robson Street
You have to suspend disbelief to think you are in Paris, though. Although my crêpe aux champignons et aux épinards (mushroom and spinach crepe) was excellent, the size of the pastries we perused in the display case on our way out were supersized, not small and delicate the way they are in French bakeries. And the seating area was light and airy with tables quite far apart, not squished together as they are in Parisian cafés.
But the service was very Canadian and it was a wonderful way to while away a couple of hours with a friend. I will be back.
Snowy Gastown
As of a month ago, Vancouver had received more snow this winter than Edmonton. As someone who spent her childhood in Edmonton (where, in the coldest part of each winter, I would stand in our snow-covered driveway and try to remember what summer felt like — I could never do it), I find that fact rather astonishing.
A bunch more of the white stuff arrived this past week. Our streets have been a sloppy mess since Saturday night as the temperatures hovered just above freezing during the day. Every street corner I had to cross was an ankle-deep puddle that reminded me, ironically, of those early spring days in Edmonton when the snow melts all at once. Our schoolyard was always a giant puddle on days like that, and I often walked home from school with soaking wet feet.
Here, in Vancouver, more snow was forecasted last night, but it rained instead, and now most of the snow in my neighbourhood is gone.
Typically after a heavy snowfall, I head to Stanley Park to take photos of snow-covered trees. After the big dump of snow we had just before Christmas, I decided to head instead to Gastown. Here are a couple of the photos I took that day.
So pretty.
Through My Lens: Daffodil Surprise
These daffodils next to English Bay have become a harbinger every year to announce the change in seasons. They pop up in mid to late January — which is awfully early for daffodils in this part of the world — but I’ve heard they are a variety that is bred to bloom early. Plus, that part of the seawall faces south.
Whatever the reason, we’re always happy to see them. And they catch people who aren’t from the neighbourhood by surprise, as they can’t believe their eyes.
Through My Lens: Reflections
Here’s another photo of Lost Lagoon that I took some time ago. It’s a favourite of mine; the clouds reflected in the water remind me of a Dutch landscape painting.
There and Back Again 