winter evening drive

There's always a heightened sense of anticipation as Christmas nears. Sometimes it takes an extra effort as one gets older to keep the spirit of Christmas intact. It's been a discouraging year in many ways, but there have been wonderful highlights that have rekindled my faith in human nature and reassured me that good prevails.

Wally had a day off on Wednesday and unearthed me to go to Greenwood to top up our health food supplements, most importantly magnesium  which we all, cats included, take. A trip like that would leave us free to enjoy Wally's coming 4 days off.

I really mean it when I say "unearthed" as we left quite late in the afternoon.

I didn't find out til later that evening that the reason I was feeling so sluggish was because I was fighting a low grade cold. Still I enjoyed having some clear weather for this trip - a change, as it always seems to be crummy weather on the Saturdays that we've gone.

Clear weather aside, the light was already getting low and I lost quite a few shots taken from our moving car. This is a little farmhouse scene with a barn in the back that has a roof so low it appears to touch the ground as the property dips downhill also indicated by the addition on the garage in the foreground.

This was a sad little blue house that sat for sale since before we moved here over 5 years ago.

This summer new owners repainted it and put new windows and a driveway in. The wind has clearly played havoc with their Christmas decorations, but it's nice to see the house being cared for again.

This has been a treacherous week for ice with some awful accidents on the highway. I nearly fell a few times myself.  Wally slowed here as he negotiated this icy on-ramp where one is normally obliged to speed up. This is the highway on which he might normally come home on a good day, but he always takes the slow and easy route, knowing what goes on out there.

The early evening light (it was almost 4:30pm) made even this industrial area not so bad. You can see the range of the north mountain (beyond which is the Bay of Fundy) in the background.

Heading northwest here, you may be able to see all the black specks in the sky, a small indication of the thousands of crows that do an evening migration around here.

Dressed in peaches and mauvey violets, the clouds were almost iridescent.

more crows flying over this snowy cornfield.

the sun going down and it's not nearly 5 yet.

Backlit by the sunset, I suspect by the size of it, that that's a raven in the uppermost branches

of that tree to the right.

I was lucky, for all the shots I lost, to have a few decent ones of the sun setting over the farmfields.

the clouds backlit in mauve in a peachy sky

You may remember this wonderful farm scene with the 3 silos from past trips.

Though blurry, the colour is so painterly that I had to share it with you.

So many shots lost in a blur on the highway, I just barely caught this favourite house of mine as we slowly came to the corner in Kingston, Greenwood's sister town.

Looking closer, we can just make out the choirboy on the front porch. 

The eagle emblem over the door makes it look somewhat American.

Like a fuzzy1940's Christmas card, I'll end here, with more to show you over the weekend.

Have a jolly old time of it dear ones.

This festive season takes some careful negotiating sometimes. That's easy to do when we set our expectations aside and remain present to the wonder and glory of what IS.

breathing gently into this moment

remembering that the best present is presence

random early winter snippets

Well, what do you know, I found some more November pictures on my camera.

Towards the end of the month, a blazing sunset.

If I had my car, I'd get myself to a better location than this view over our street, power lines and a cell tower, not to mention trees and branches blocking its radiance. This is the view out the kitchen window.

The next day Wally and I gave ourselves a holiday and hit the road.

I've regretted not recording the amazing carving up of this forest to make a cloverleaf access from the main highway to shopping in New Minas, our big box shopping area "for the Valley", that has lost so many of its businesses since this project was planned ten years ago making a mockery of "the horse designed by committee".

Our destination (yes again) Ikea for lunch. We can't really afford eating out, both financially and healthwise, but a late lunch at Ikea with most of the cafeteria to ourselves, was a rare treat. Could Wally look any happier with his "Naughty Meal".

Mine was barely healthier with its sauces and sugar and salt, etc. I opted for poached salmon with "vegetable patties" (mostly potato I think) and an appetizer for dessert: gravlax- more salmon.

I came home with a bad back that lasted for 2 weeks. I don't remember what would have caused it.

As usual Babu wanted to play. He has demanded I play with him after breakfast every day for a while now, but boy, it was hard to unbend myself. Still, it was good for me to get out of my chair.

I'm pretty much healed now with a little bit of stiffness.

One of our many first snows. I kept getting a chance to re-experience the magic.

Wally strung me out a heart in Christmas lights on the cabin doors.

I will try to get a photo with them on.

And a parting shot, as I have regrets about not having any new artwork of my own to show you.

I treated myself to this little collection of Patrick Mok's fantasy work several years ago.

Handmade out of stoneware clay, Patrick is an older man now, living in Toronto. Once a cartoonist, he changed his medium to clay. With an elfin sweetness about him,I wish I had got to know him better. Here is a link to a gallery that carries his work to get a closer look.

(Oh yes, that's the first picture ever taken of Wally and me. We were picking raspberries with friends at the house we since sold, in Bracebridge.) 

Now I will tell you a not so secret secret. This is post 94. (You can see that in the sidebar.) Because of all the posts I made this summer, these are the most posts I've made in a year since starting this blog. That is so cool for me who can get so discouraged at times by the lack of response and the crazy amount of "Bot" hits (automated views) that have made a mockery of my statistics. But I have made new friends through this blog, and that pleases me more than I can say.

The year is quickly winding down, but with 6 more posts, I can reach 100 altogether. With a little more time on my hands, I am aiming for that. So, once again, thank you dear viewers for dropping in and allowing me to share my little part of the universe with you.

peace dear ones

dusk in hall's harbour

Hi again. Still culling photos from our quasi holiday with my friend Connie on her week's visit in early November. I say quasi because it really was a working holiday for Connie who had committed herself to helping us wade through old financial stuff that had paralyzed Wally and me.

One Sunday evening, we stole her away for a trip up over the North Mountain and down to Hall's Harbour, a trip that only takes us about 20 minutes.

The light was low, the tide was low, and the road was closed where we stopped on this quiet night.

Looking across the harbour you get a feel for the steep slope of the North Mountain

as it comes down to the Bay of Fundy.

A sailor's knot for a boat tied well below the pier.

We strike out across the pebbled inlet, Wally already walking back before I've begun to make it out.

Intrepid explorer that I am (ha ha) I wobble my way out along the shallow stream of outflowing tide, 

looking up at the pier on the opposite side.

At the end of it you can see the last bit of sunlight in the west,

and then it's gone, setting over New Brunswick.

Ahead of me, to the north across the bay is the other side of Nova Scotia.

To my right, some little houses lining the shore with their stairs to the beach.

Despite the brightening of this photo, it has become almost too dark to see, lights coming on automatically in the dusk. Connie and I head back up the shifting pebbles, careful not to fall. It's getting tricky.

A little boat on a trailer on the other pier that we cannot access tonight.

A parting shot of Connie on the curve down to the docks where the road was closed.

I think she enjoyed it though it was reminiscent of her world back in Ontario on Lake Huron.

Just as we were leaving, a little fishing boat was wending its way home.

And with that, my pictures of our first week of November are over. Connie left on the 7th, working up to the last minute to help us through a small mountain of paperwork, then gone like Santa Claus, into the dark Canadian sky. Of course we've talked many times since, but the visit, well, she was most welcome.

Friends. The embodiment of kindness.

Still, let us remember that the closest friend we have is ourselves, the one who keeps us on track.

Starting with that initiative we can make a better world for ourselves.

with peace in our hearts, releasing the troubles of the mind, we-

like a little fishing boat-

wend our way home

november evening in peggy's cove

Peggy's Cove... a small fishing village located 26 miles to the southeast of Halifax on the east coast of St. Margaret's Bay, named by Samuel de Champlain for his mother Marguerite. The first recorded name of the cove was Eastern Point Harbour or Peggs Harbour in 1766. In 1811 the village was founded by 6 German families who fished but also raised cattle and farmed where the land was fertile. By the turn of that century the community had grown to 300 and supported a school, church, general store and lobster cannery.

As better roads were made, tourism began to grow, the first public art gallery, tea-room, and gift shop opened in a shack in Peggy's Cove in 1937. The government stepped in to protect what it eventually designated as a heritage site. It is so popular today that there is even a themed resort in Thailand inspired by it.

Our trip started late on Saturday afternoon, taking the straightaway down our road to the south shore. Turning northeast, we followed the scenic #3 through villages with evocative names like Hubbards,  Boutiliers Point, then turning south on Peggy's Point Road through Tantallon, Hacket's Cove and Indian Harbour as we travelled the east coast of St. Margaret's Bay.

As we drove the narrow road into town, I was relieved to find there was still enough daylight to capture the maritime romance of this...

incredibly quaint and charming sheltered inlet.

Lobster traps stacked neatly on the dock, it is clearly low tide, the breakwater showing beyond.

We travel the short length of road alongside the quiet cove.

The setting sun is beginning to show its colours in the radiating clouds.

Unaware, I also take my self-portrait in the rear view mirror.

First stop is the Sou'Wester Gift Shop and Restaurant (i.e. the washrooms)

Perhaps I should tell you that a "sou (south) wester" is the name of the oldtime fisherman's hat that channels water away from the face and down one's back. The worst storms seem to come from the southwest here as they do where we live in the Annapolis Valley, curving down from Canada, through the northeastern U.S. seaboard and up again towards us.  I bought one of these hats as a souvenir when I first visited Peggy's Cove, and let me tell you, they work!

A quick survey of the art upstairs and down

and a portrait of dear Wally.

Right out the door, the famous Peggy's Cove Lighthouse

More than 400 million years ago, in the Devonian Period, the plate tectonics movement of the Earth's crust allowed molten material to bubble up from the Earth's interior.  The unique landscape of Peggy's Cove and surrounding areas was subsequently carved by the migration of glaciers and the ocean tides. About 20,000 years ago, an ice ridge moved south from Canada's Arctic region covering much of North America. Along with the ebb and flow of the glaciers, the ice ridge eventually melted and shifted and in the process scooped away and scoured large sections of rock, vegetation, and topsoil. As melted land glaciers flowed back to the oceans the changing tidal flows and rising sea levels filled the scarred areas with water, forming coves and inlets. Large boulders composed of 415-million-year-old Devonian granite were lifted by the ice and carried for long distances before being deposited upon the landscape as the ice receded, leaving rugged barrens. The movement of the glacial ice and rocks left scouring marks in the bedrock that are still visible.

If rock ever looked like it could breathe, this is it.

We follow the concrete path laid out for our safety,

the sky laid out for our beauty

To my left, the heaving rock

The same couple in this otherworldly plain

Connie and I made it to the top

taking a pose with the famous lighthouse

trying to capture the elusive colours from where I stood

and looking back towards the cove

aother view over the ancient rocks

A young family taking it all in, much closer than Wally will allow me to go.

My normally placid Wally gets quite livid when I venture too close.

He is afraid of the infamous "Rogue Wave".

Now that I've done some research on the subject I see that there are, in fact, numerous deaths here every year. Wow! There's so much one can learn "unofficially".

still determined to catch the colour with this little puddle competing with the sun for a focal point

the huge rocks, so difficult to capture for scale except for the gentle waves beyond them

Connie waves to me

pon closer inspection I see that she is taking a picture of me as I am taking a picture of her

It's great to see Wally looking so relaxed and happy.

 My travelling companions by Peggy's Cove Lighthouse

Really, by height, the lighthouse is not that tall. It is its placement on the rocks that makes its light cast so far. And yet, in that link above, someone had said they had once seen the waves crash onto the road beyond it, by the gift store.

Each time I turn I catch a slightly different view of the sun setting over St. Margaret's Bay

the clouds casting long fingers into the darkening sky

The miraculousness of the evening's "sweet light" is finally lending a hand,

 helping me to capture this glorious sunset

The waves are benign tonight, this early November evening

They sweep gently over these slippery rocks

There is a primordial peace here.

Which planet are we on?

Connie takes one last picture as Wally watches on.

The Sou'Wester Gift Shop is in the background.

I take one last picture of the rugged shoreline looking out across St. Margaret's Bay

and the town beyond

And what's this?...

Ah, the warning, caught sight of on our way back up the hill.

This accidental juxtaposition cracked me up.

Connie with Darlene and Crystal from the Sou'Wester gift shop,

Darlene holding the postcard that I mailed myself of these 3 buddies, oldtime fishermen.

one last step out the door

a little closer

and finally time to go.

So, wowee, that was some trip.

Can you believe there is more from this evening?? 

Again I must save them for another day.

I hope this little collection gave you a feel for this magical little spot on Earth.

thank you for coming along with me

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