Elizabeth is the best once again and reminded me of the delights of being dyonisian. Remember when Nita, Linds and I all worked at the dionysian bakery in West Vancouver where butter was the secret ingredient and where when a customer ordered an eggwhite omelette without butter or cream it was considered INSANE...
West Vancouver is positively dripping with healthy fat. The streets rarely sport paved sidewalks and the houses are draped with grape and passion vines while the gardens are filled with textured greens, mosses and black grasses. The air is fresh, salty and clean. Waves crash over the seawall and drench tracksuit clad women from Persia and Eastern Europe and Japan and Canada.
The nights are deep blue while the moon casts a shadow over the Lions Gate bridge and the Haida sculpture in Ambleside stones the horizon that is chalked with sailboats and large vessels. I once heard of thousands of Chinese people being trapped on one of those huge ships; they longed to land but were sent home in their suffocating circumstances.Their desperation might still linger in the salty night air, like the thirst that you wake up with after a garlic infused meal.
Walking around, you are oppressed by the dark beauty of the enormous trees that cleanse the air and shade the avenues. Bright yellow streelights occasionally spotlight telephone poles where squirrells and rats crisscross the wired heights.
Beneath the North Shore mountains, on the edge of the Pacific, surrounded by cedars; West Vancouver is drenched with beauty, rich, decadent, natural beauty.
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