Hesitation Stockings, Hestiation Shoes

Thursday, August 12, 2004

Night At the Beach

I've been working a bit on Barry's divorce. Did the first run at his affidavit based on an outline from Ratcliff. Tired of it.

Christopher is getting settled into his new place in North Vancouver.

I am reading The God Of Small Things, which is very good, and makes me jealous, but sometimes not, as different styles and forms of narrative, etc. are good. Right now my narrative is rather thin and flat, partly by accident, as I am racing towards the main story line, but perhaps also by choice. Anyway, The God of Small Things is a very impressive book, especially for a first novel.

I have the letter and attachments ready now to support Ananya's application for the visitor visa. Just need the new address in Mumbai.

Tonight around 9:00 pm I met Chris and Regina and we went to Jericho beach. How can I describe the beauty of it? The night was warm, the breeze was light, very light. At Jericho we are on the south shore of English Bay towards the west end of the Bay. Turning right, you can see the bright lights and office towers of downtown. Straight ahead, the coastal mountains, and the houses and lights of North And West Vancouver sprinkled on them. Even in the near darkness, the setting sun still sends light up behind the mountains, especailly towards the western end of Bay. Due west, there is the narrow outlet of the bay into the ocean and that gap is red from the setting sun. The sand on the beach is hazy and indistinct in the twilight, but the water of the bay reflects the dying light quite wonderfully. And I could see the dark and gently bobbing heads of Chris and Regina very distinctly as they swam out a hundreds yards or more in to the bay. The conversations on the beach were quiet and muted, the end of a long day of steady sunshine taking its effect it would seem. I swam only a bit, thought I was cold and went back to the beach. Just as well, as I can not swim nearly so well as Chris and Regina. Then Chris made a tent type thing so that Regina could change on the beach. Then we talked. Chris scolding me, gently but firmly, on all plans that don't involve going to Yellowknife.






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