Sitting in the sunshine at Whitby’s Cafe and Bookstore in waterfront White Rock is just one of those moments. Across sparkling Boundary Bay sits Birch Head as the old timers call it Birch Point for those who come at a land perspective. And amazingly enough rising gently in the fog and haze of the day is Mt Constitution on Orcas Island.
Having an 84 yr old dentist in my web design class has given me a perspective on the community. Knowing many of the people for whom the streets are named is only part of the story.
In 1922 an Irish immigrant was offered a job in the White Rock sawmill. Little did he know that the planer-man who he was replacing was only off temporarily. Six months later he was again looking for work. Such are the vagaries of the roaring twenties.
And then later in the day an article in the local paper caught my attention. Talking about historical walking tours. It specifically mentioned the street we are on – the old houses. And suddenly the discussion about the sawdust pile that the house is built on took on a whole new sense. A long connection.
Suddenly I could hear the cries of the stevedores and lumberman. The cry of the saw and planer. The smell of fresh cut cedar and pine. And the sunshine brought home the joy of life.
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