How I Learned To Love Drag Part 6

As we strolled through the grounds, May and I talked about many things: our families, where we grew up, what we studied in school, what we enjoyed doing, and, incredible as it may seem, our philosophies on life. Yeah, spiritual stuff. Like Monty Python's The Meaning of Life plus Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. We avoided any more talk about work.

When we switched course and headed west across the heart of the park, we encountered the peaceful Lost Lagoon and its bird sanctuary. Later we passed by a pitch and putt par three golf facility, surrounded by a lush rhododendron garden. Some roller bladers played hockey in one of the parking lots. We drank in the summer fun atmosphere.

Clearly we both appreciated nature. And May, a Vancouver native, served as my guide.

A large expanse of sand surrounded a natural pool on English Bay. There were young athletic guys and girls playing beach volleyball in the white sand. We paused for a moment or two to admire some of these amazing specimens. They looked so fit and healthy and beautiful.

It's almost impossible for two people to cover a regulation volleyball court. You have to dive into the sand repeatedly to dig out the ball. Whoever made up the rules to this torturous game was a real sadomasochist.

There was a welcome cooling salt air breeze wafting off the Strait of Georgia, between the mainland and huge, distant Vancouver Island.

As the sun set below the horizon, it brought us closer together. It was a magnificent orange ball that sank slowly, almost imperceptibly, below sea level. We both sensed a need for intimacy.

All along the beachfront there was this seawall that had been built to hold back the sea during stormy weather to protect the shoreline and the pathway from erosion damage. For a moment, we sat on the edge of the seawall, but it didn't give us the privacy away from the occasional pedestrian or cyclist or blader. Perhaps if we could find a large rock to hide behind we could get a little boulder.