![]() ![]() There are restrooms at this dive facility, which are located to the right of the parking area. Walk down to the water, about 100 feet away. Tyee Cove’s dive entrance is very straightforward. It is one of the top dive sites in the Central Island area, based on the number of visitors it receives and its popularity among dive clubs for instructional purposes. Tyee Cove, located 1 hour north of Nanaimo on the Island Highway to Nanoose, British Columbia, is a renowned shore diving spot. Hermit Crab Shell Exchange – Nanaimo, British Columbia Tyee Cove It Snowed Last Night, Let’s Go Diving Today In Harbour Main, Newfoundland I will take brave and fold it into my little kerchief and tie it to my stick and carry it to the top of the highest hill I can find, and when I get there, I’ll rest my tired legs, unwrap my little hunk of pie from its wax paper, and stare up at the brilliant, extravagant stars, knowing that they are not dead, not even one of them, not dead at all, but living, pulsing, pressing their light as far as it can reach.The Scuba News Canada has been pleased to feature Garrett’s East Coast videos: ![]() In hindsight, this strikes me as incredibly dim-witted.ġ in 1 women will look back on something and feel foolish. I didn’t want to be brave I wanted to be brilliant. Afterwards, several women came up to me to tell me I was brave. When I was writing about my terrible late-term miscarriage, I gave a reading on the upper eastside. I think what I’m saying is: I’d rather live than not live. Looking into the past is like sticking your thumb in the dirt of a Dixie Cup.īut a high-powered telescope changes everything. You’re looking into the past, yes, but it’s unlikely, though not impossible, you’re seeing a dead star. Meaning, the naked eye will probably never see a dead star. 1 in 15 women thisandthat.Īnd yet, the death rate of stars is only one about every 10,000 years or so. I sat in a blue chair and sucked on my lollipop. Afterwards, they gave me a rootbeer-flavored lollipop. Some years after that, I had a terrible late-term miscarriage and had to go to a terrible late-term abortion clinic with terrible, terrible lighting. He didn’t want to write about his thumbs, he said. Or I was so sad, and he reminded me of my sadness. He used his hands like lobster claws he made me so sad. Medically speaking, you have a 1 in 500 chance of being born with 11 fingers or toes. I keep saying, it seems very unlikely that this will kill me. Mostly, I write the same word over and over, and mostly that word is light. Or maybe everybody says most stars are dead? Or some of the people say all the stars are dead, and all of the people say some of the stars are dead.ġ in 2 women can’t remember 1 in 2 things.Ĭaterpillars, supernovas, the days getting shorter, longer again.ĭid you ever get my postcard from Mexico? And still, there is the question:įell from the hydrogen furnace of a star,īy the time the light reaches us blah blah blah. One rotating light chasing one unreachable There has only ever been one setting sun, A small bodyĭreams the only respite from dark. Neither does the ditch fire elicit sympathy. With his russet head resting on the road’s shoulder. That I’ll wilt to think of this place being home.īut today it’s a morning I’m not sorry to be awake for, ![]() ![]() The snow and the sun, an incessant blue sky, The water towers marking the reservation. The peaked shelter at the reservoir’s edge, Memorize little landmarks: the row of cottonwoods, Pixilated, their clouded breath leads themĪgain and again over an imagined prairie. Stampeding across the casino’s electric sign. My dad and I try very hard to seem at ease Everything is a union of one kind or another.Ĭheerful, unassuming. ![]()
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