Vancouver is fading in a dense, sea fog. As I cycle back along the waterfront tonight, the only sign that there is life on the other side of the water are the fuzzy, dull yellow lights through the mist of smudged-out high rises. I'm used to having the waterfront to myself at this time of night, at this time of year. Tonight the only other signs of life is a punk walking his pug, a couple of photographers setting up equipment under the bridge, and excited screams and voices bouncing across the water from a party boat on the other shore. The night is eerie, in a beautiful way.
