…in both time and distance: Long beach, BC.

Something that will always be characteristic of the west coast of Canada is the sight of logs washed up on the shore.

I loved the thought that these huge trunks had been felled and stripped and corraled behind a small boat, floating off on a journey to the mill, when suddenly, a rogue wave set them free. They drift dangerously for weeks, months, years, and then somehow become part of the landscape again, washed up on a quiet beach.