Smell the saltwater? Yep, we're home.
Plump pumpkins, crisp air, and rust colored leaves make Boy and Dog Park a favorite viewpoint of Saratoga Passage in the fall.
This is Langley, affectionately known as "The Village By the Sea." This is the closest town to us, and though we don't live in Langley proper, this is where we call home.
It's perched upon Saratoga Passage, where it greets the sun as it rises in the east in the spring and summer months, providing some of the most spectacular colors in the sky. It's a one screen theater town, where people line up on the sidewalk to catch a movie on date night, and where, if you need herbs for dinner, you can take what you need from the curbside garden at the corner of 1st Street and Anthes.
It's the kind of place where the local Good Cheer thrift store stocks a refrigerator with healthy food daily for hungry kids after school, and where the town coffee shop roasts their own beans and makes cups of perfection to get the day started right. It's where you are encouraged to ring the whale bell if you spot one in Saratoga Passage, then go to the Langley Whale Center to share what you saw. It's where people from near and far gather to sing carols before the town tree is lit at Christmas and Santa comes by to make an appearance.
It's where painted rocks are left on phone booths for anyone to find and rehide or keep, and it's the kind of town where the police officers walk the streets and say hi to people. It's also the only place I know where the iconic orca is on their patrol car. It's where kids can go and experience an old school coin arcade after school and spend the dog days of summer. It's where classic games like PacMan, Missile Command, and Donkey Kong compete to drown out the pinball machine bells and the squeaky wood floor as you walk around and choose where to spend your quarters carefully.
But most importantly, it's where tolerance is taught, diversity is encouraged, and everyone is welcome. A walk through Langley is a walk through acceptance. Everywhere you look -- on the sides of buildings, in businesses, and on the glass doors to the only grocery store in town -- you're reminded that no matter who you are or where you came from, you are welcome.
And this, my friends, is why we call this little town of Langley our home.
The Clyde, where you wait on the sidewalk to get in to enjoy the single screen movie. It's where old friends gather to shake hands, and where popcorn wafts out to the sidewalk everytime the doors open.
Visitors and residents flock to Whale Bell Park after the bell sounded, signifying the arrival of orcas from J Pod in Saratoga Passage.
Whale Bell Park was the site of a vigil for orcas lost in 2016. It's where we said good bye to our beloved Residents, and where we celebrate when we see blows and dorsal fins in the spring, announcing the return of the Gray Whales.
The newest patrol car for the Langley Police Department, complete with orca graphics.
The lighting of the Langley Christmas tree, caroling, and the arrival of Santa Claus. You could feel the excitement in the air.
Need herbs for dinner? Help yourself at the community herb garden at the corner of 1st Street and Anthes Avenue.
Inside the mailbox is a pair of scissors and small bags to take your herbs home.
Useless Bay Coffee -- where you can find a handcrafted, reliable cup of coffee and an equally good breakfast.
The only rule is if you find it, keep it or rehide it for someone else to find. This was on top of a phone booth, where calls are always free.
At The Machine Shop coin arcade, everyone is reminded to yep, BE AMAZING!
This sign hangs on a local church and over the door to an area called "The Hub." It's a safe spot for kids to hang out after school and do homework, and they're fed a hot meal every single day -- for free.
These posters are found everywhere through town. Everyone is welcome in Langley, no matter who you are or where you're from.
The Machine Shop coin arcade has these posters on their wall. It's the perfect match for the red, white, and blue walls as you walk in the front door.
