I went to Tower Beach last night for a Farewell to Summer fire. I went down earlier, took the bus to UBC, walked across the campus. It was twilight, and I have to admit, not very smart of me to go on my own. I hadn't anticipated the sun setting so quickly. So courage in heart, I carried on. And I was fine until the Museum of Anthropology, up to the longhouses. But the trail down is pitch black, and I was frightened. No, I didn't bring a torch, I didn't have any one's cell number so they could come up and meet me. Dumb dumb dumb. So off I go down the trail, now it's with fear in my heart. I bound down the steps, and suddenly, there is someone standing there. I gasp and stop.

He speaks to me in the most kindest voice, "I didn't mean to startle you. Are those your friends that just went down? They are right ahead." I can't see his face, but relief floods through me as I realize I am not in danger. "Yes, thank you. I really shouldn't be walking down by myself, it's so dark." "It's beautiful down there tonight. Enjoy your evening."

I finished my walk under a veil of protection and thanked the gods for the kind trail watcher. And it was so beautiful on the beach. The sky was absolutely clear, the light of the moon shining on the round stones, the stars endless, the waves our only meter. I found my friends by a modest fire, bottles clinking, heads hatted. We watched the ships go by, trying to guess what they were by their lights only. We made rock cairns that were steadier than we were, and hunted for wood to burn. So free!