The rain returned. It started accumulating on the willows and alders last night. If the sun appeared, it would make the wet leaves sparkle. But rain, not sun, controls as Aki and I are pass through the ruins of a gold mine city.

In minutes we reach Sandy Beach, empty except for a small clutch of shore birds the fly low over the ocean water. 100 year old bits and pieces of rotting iron muscle out of the beach sand. They will disappear beneath of beach sand during the next storm surge. I spot an otter crossing the collapsed mine. I’d like to take its picture and would if not for a sandpiper that lands nearby and starts squireling at the little poodle and I.  It lets us get very close and the flies off a few feet where it continues to complain. In the meantime the otter slips away.