There is something poignant about being out alone at dusk: house windows light up as other people return to their homes; a goose honks a harsh warning as my bike glides past its pond; salt on the cycle path sparkles in the halogen lamp on my handlebars, warning of a night of black ice and treachery. As the sky fades from lurid pink to black I turn homeward, toward my people, my dog, and my warm kitchen – with supper on my mind. Grateful.
— at Granville Island, Vancouver.
© Deborah Jones 2013
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