I stood on the upper deck of a BC Ferry two hours before midnight, journeying back to Vancouver, wishing I could have spent an extra day on the island. As the seagulls cried and the ship's horn called, I leaned on the rails and gazed into the night. Sun had gone down hours ago, but a pale afterglow hung over the western horizon. There were few people on the deck. The rest seemed to prefer staying warm inside the cabin instead of braving the open air of a bracing autumn night. Or maybe they were commuters habituated to this beauty. Some loitered outside while the ship was still docked at the bay, while the surroundings were still awash with light. But as soon as the ship moved out of the dock and crept under a darker
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