On our morning walks to town, I had noticed all the butterflies flitting about. I hunted them all along the cliff path, to no avail. Today, I turned a (...)

9/3/12: Monday was a catch-up day. There was laundry to do. Dad had other things he wanted to do, and I now was up to 536 images ready for transfer a (...)

Looking down, a panoply of photo-opportunities stretched out before me along the beach. The shots composed themselves.

An ancient nail, valiantly still trying to keep the ship together, long after the crew had become a faint memory.

Just the way I found them. The one of the right became a gift to my friend, Steve. He has roots in New Brunswick and loves the maritime shore.

I moved carefully along the base of the cliff below the path. Lots of slippery rocks and transparent pools to fall into. There is a lot of granite and (...)

"The sea taketh, and the sea giveth back."

Yup, just the way I found it. I checked ... no pearl.

I went beachcombing around Kerzho Point. The tide was out. One thing the images can't convey is the clean scent of the sea. Okay, some days it can sme (...)

Just a reminder that this beach was made in France, but decorated in Brittany.

Tuesday morning saw us walking purposely into town for café. Dad had business to conduct with his lawyer. At loose ends, I wandered about with the ca (...)

A metal boat, slowly rusting away in the decades after it was abandoned. I returned to the house to find that Dad's Evil Cleaning Lady had arrived. Da (...)

These birds are as smart as crows in spotting a camera lens at 20 paces. They fly off at the slightest provoction. This one must have felt sorry for m (...)

Flowers are much more considerate subjects than magpies. This is a wall on main street.

"He who sculls impresses the ladies"

This sign hung outside the notary's office. My Dad had just finished his business there, so we walked home.

I immediately saw the potential of this shot so I worked to frame it correctly. I loved the ancient window built of stone and wood. I also related to (...)

As we walked towards the port, Dad pointed out the oldest toilets in Port Louis. These are built right on the edge of the rampart. Only two footpads (...)

Yup, it's a long way down. By the way, that is lichen now staining the "toilet".

A tight shot of the Bro Warok and the Kerzho Ferry.