Goose Spit in Comox, BC is one of my favourite places, all year round. I never get tired of the scenery and watching how this place changes with the seasons. During winter storms surf pounds the shore, rearranging the rocks and sand and depositing mounds of slippery seaweed. Sometimes the tide swallows up the beach, leaving only a narrow strip for walking. At low tide on long summer days the rippled sand stretches away from the shore, providing a playground for sandcastle builders, frolicking dogs, frisbee throwers, sunbathers, and swimmers.

Below is a short piece I wrote about Goose Spit.

Goose Spit Sunset

A squawking gull with a shell in its beak climbs straight up in the air like a rocket and suddenly drops its cargo onto the rocks below, cracking it open, then dives to reach it before any competitors. Clam shells are strewn across the sand, pecked through by beaks eager to get to the morsels inside.

Long delicate fingers of eel grass lie deflated near the shore, plastered awkwardly against the sand like stringy wet hair. As the tide comes creeping back, it gently lifts and resuscitates the limp eel grass. It slowly comes to life, moving tentatively at first, but as the sea covers the sand, the eel grass cautiously sways to the rhythm of the waves, its movements becoming more self-assured as the water deepens. Securely anchored to the floor by its grasp on rocks and shells, it finally twists and flows, dancing to the sensual rhythm, uninhibited.

I wade out from the beach and dive into the sea, enjoying the shock of cool water that makes my body tingle. I feel the chill on my skin as I hurriedly swim to create warmth. Once acclimatized, it is more difficult to leave the sublimity of the water than to enter it, but eventually the fading sun, low in the sky, compels me to return to shore. The salt aftertaste lingers as stars emerge.