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Last week my girlfriend and I spent 3 days on Gabriola Island (one of the many beautiful islands off the beautiful island we live on) and had to pry ourselves away. The beauty of this part of the world is breathtakingly phenomenal. It is remote, stunning and difficult to keep one's clothes on.
I shot about 800 photos in three days. The eclipse helped.
I snapped this on one of my many low tide adventures. I looked down and saw all these teeny houses... billions of them. Their tiny landscape, so alien to me, yet I trod on it too. Was this low tide a natural disaster for these little creatures? Or summer? Were they cursing themselves for not taking the warnings of the impending disaster seriously? Or tanning? Or maybe they viewed me as the calamity. The destructive invader from another world, trampling on their countrymen? I have Douglas Adams-esque visions of them mounting a counter assault on me only to be swallowed by a small dog.
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