Yesterday, Dave and I were on a road trip… headed down to Long Point.
Long time readers will recall that Dave’s uncle has a cottage there, and for many years, Dave and I would often spend `New Years down there. This year, his uncle was having a Christmas party at the legion in Port Rowan, the town just north of the point.
But before we headed to the party, I drove Dave and down to the beach.

Both of us have grown up on and around the shores of three of the Great Lakes (Erie, Ontario and Huron) – and we both miss them a little, living where we are now.

It may seem odd, but my favourite time to be at the beach is in winter. Mostly because it’s completely devoid of people.

There’s a beauty to the desolation that I just love.

The water was fairly calm (for Lake Erie, which can change moods in a heart beat), and there were some beautiful patterns in the sand left by a previous storm.

And when you turn from the water, the sand banks with their towering trees are just as beautiful. There were some very large pieces of drift wood I wanted to bring home for the garden, but they were too heavy. (Ok – they were basically still trees, but so soft and smooth!).
But I did find some other beach treasures…

A couple good-sized freshwater oyster shells, and a pretty rock. Because you can never have too many pretty rocks

































