the road to Peggy's Cove

Here we are in December of all places! So much for my trying to catch up with that first week of November, travels with Connie, within that same month. Our little trips were worth documenting (in my mind) so, with that, here are some vignettes of our

trip to Peggy's Cove on the Saturday evening of November 5

It's a straight trip down our road to the south shore. I had forgotten what a magical road the Lighthouse Route is as we usually take it home at the end of an outing, too dark to really see anything.  After passing some wonderful landmarks I finally thought to pull out my camera, but the light and proximity of things from a moving car wasn't working for me.

After an hour or so, Wally found the somewhat secret entrance to a little public beach where we got out to stretch our legs.

The ocean tide gently washed the shore

The curl of the waves was benign.

I took off immediately from the car to gather myself from the car ride, unaware that Connie also had agenda: to wet her feet in the Atlantic Ocean. Let me tell you, it wasn't warm.

But beautiful, yes it was.

Once we were on the road again, we travelled the inlets along the coast

through towns with beautiful names, evocative of another time

two views of ...

this same stretch of road 

and along somewhat lonely patches,

 coming upon little fishing villages

and the occasional well-to-do patches of bigger homes, often just for vacation.

There were many picturesque opportunities...

but we were on the move

a pretty country home

a quaint country church

a rare old home in a grand style

another country church with a pyramid roofed house like ours in the foreground,

adorned with pumpkins

Now the landscape is starting to show that rocky barrenness tells us we are getting close to our destination

A quintessential old time fishing home

another fishing village

and someone who thought this inlet was photo-worthy

Now we are almost in Peggy's Cove, just past the memorial of the infamous Swissair crash of 1998.

The rocks themselves, left by ancient glaciers, almost seem like memorials themselves.

So much ancient history.

And here we are, our initial sighting of the famous lighthouse

that has attracted millions of visitors over the years.

I will never forget my first visit with Wally, when the waves crashed magnificently on the long spread of rock to the sea.

The rock really sets the scene here, long undulating stretches of it.

The vegetation is hardy, the trees are very old, bonsai in stature.

The red roof of the town church looms closer,

We round another bend...

and I must save the rest for next time.

until then... holding this moment, this unique and only moment...

peace dear ones