Delta’s Deas Island Regional Park was not accurately named. It wasn’t an island. The park was joined to the mainland by a narrow band of land. I crossed a wooden bridge over a stagnant creek and followed the trail that led to the tip of the so called island. On the way, I was faced with another contradiction.
This quiet trail with an occasional boat disrupting the bush sounds near the Fraser River, metamorphosed into a groan then a throb from four lanes of traffic passing underneath in yet another contradiction — the name of the tunnel. Commonly known as the Massey Tunnel, a plaque above the entrance said the Deas Island Tunnel.
Beyond was a view of Deas Slough, muddy with cat tails sprouting its banks. There was a promise of spotting bald eagles said to hang above the alders and cottonwood trees, but I only caught sight of a rabbit and later a pileated woodpecker.
From here to there 