Places to go spying

"Come now," Molly said. "All this talk of -12C. It is really only 10 degrees F. It is nippy for sure but when you were a kid your mom said to get the long underwear on and an undershirt, a couple of sweaters, and some snow pants, good warm jacket, and your favourite winter hat  and get outside in the sun." 

So I did all that and loaded up further with a couple of scarves to stave off the North wind razors, put on my warmest winter boots, put Molly’s winter jacket on her, and up we went to the wet land. Memories of my years in Thunder Bay warmed me and I mused that when there, this 10 degree F stuff was balmy. The wet land — a simple walk from where I live, is one of my very favourite places to practice spying. The only things moving today it seemed where Molly, me, and a couple of ravens. 

I loved wetlands in Thunder Bay and I love them here. Any time of year the colours of the plants, the sky, the water defy  artist's palates and the sweep of light as it moves through the trees or over the bog is mesmerizing.

I wanted to take couple of shots just to give you an inkling of the beauty but I had to  take photos in bare hands and even in the balmy 10F I hastened to get them for you before I put my fingers back in my mits. 

Nova Scotia enchants me. 

Here are three shots for you. I hope you enjoy the woods  and “my bog".

Wishing Happy New Year to all.

The bog

The Joy of the Journey —It continues—

December 14, 2017 was a beautiful day and Molly and I headed up the logging road for a tramp. I heard an unfamiliar crunch under foot and so looked down to see hundreds of ice needles. So Stunningly beautiful they were I did not want to take another step. The ground was warmer than the air and so water that rose to the surface froze. As more water rose from beneath the needle formed. That moisture pushed up mud and pebbles but relative to the ice needles in which they were embedded those granules looked like boulders to me. I thought of Sisyphus then of the power of ice and water. I think I have never seen these tiny marvels before but if I have I was too absorbed in something else to either see them or register them. I wonder sometimes in moments like this how much of the majesty of nature I miss on a daily basis or at least fail to register. Our local field naturalist and geologist stopped by to drop off a birthday gift from the Seven Lakes Office staff and I enthusiastically enquired of my find. He explained the process to me and today I have included learning about them in my daily reading.

Today, Dec. 16, I got a chance to return to my ice needles fearing their demise over the last 48 hours but I was in luck. They had been dusted with snow but were still there in all their precarious beauty,  I lay on the frosty and puddle covered ground to get a picture of these to share with you. It was worth a wet mitten to me. I hope it is for you.

Ever

Maggie and Molly

about 1 cm high

These are about 5 cm high

My favourite

I want to see the Lobster Trap Tree

It is time to say Seasons Greetings to those I have not written to in awhile.There may well be another blog or two before Christmas but if there is not, my warmest best wishes to all in this festive season.

The time that stretches between tramps on beaches seems way too long now but Molly and I got to go to Clam Harbour today, arguably my favourite beach of the many within reach. I can’t be sure why —whether it is the trails that lead through forests and over seaside rocks, the islands past which dolphins travel, or the great sand strand that is exposed at low tide. I suppose one need not a “reason” to favour one stretch of stunning beauty over another— perhaps it is beyond reason. The “ favourite"  may change and another stretch of rock, sand, and sea, may morph into a current favourite but for today it is Clam Harbour. Before you get there though, you have to drive through Musquodobit Harbour —a community I have come to thoroughly enjoy. That is where the hospital is should I need one. That too is where the library is whose librarians enthusiastically recommend books and landscapes to explore. There too  is the gym  that I will join when it reopens in January . The bakery, at Musquodobit, I am told, is “the best on the shore". Perhaps now, and especially on this Sunday when businesses  are closed, the most engaging and endearing thing about Musquodobit Harbour is the Lobster Trap Tree.

Clam Harbour today

The Lobster Trap Tree

 

You seem to have a liking for this place

Because the library is closing for renovations Molly and I headed up number 7 yesterday to take back books and get my “Christmas reads”. The fifteen minute drive from Porters Lake to Musquodobit Harbour is shortened by punctuation points along the way like Scaups in the lakes along the road and Christmas Bake Sale Roadside Stalls that grew up as fall left. December 2, 2017 was a soft, warm one, and the overcast sky was a delicate grey— not sodden—soft.

We had decided to go to Clam Harbour after choosing our reads but as I was driving along reflecting on how gracious, helpful, and welcoming, the librarians were, I saw to my right a road not yet travelled by Molly and me. A quick turn and we were off to Pleasant Point. That road. That amazing passageway offered up a smorgasbord of vistas that would fill the emptiest of souls and give comfort to depths incapable of  being plumbed. We travelled through the trees along the sea, admiring a home with a lookout made to resemble a lighthouse, rivers rushing under bridges and Mike’s place. He was on his deck as I snapped his home and he waved me in. His warm rolling Scottish brogue immediately had me at ease as his outstretched hand  reached mine, welcoming me to his heaven. He had come to Canada five years ago to marry Anne. Between his teaching Spanish part time at a local high school and repairing wind whipped siding, he cleared wee paths to the sea, and he took me down one. Anne, a nurse, was at work in Musquodoboit Harbour hospital and he would have siding painted before her return. He hoped I would come back he said, “because you seem to have a liking for this place.”

Molly and I hope you will enjoy the road to Pleasant Point.

Mike and Anne's Point

Of Rocks and trees and Skies and Seas

Of Rocks and Trees and Skies and Seas

Last week began with the sweet anticipation of a visit from a dear intrepid friend, who at eighty years old boarded her camper and drove from Westport ON to Nova Scotia. Fortunately I was on her list for a “look see”.

            I did not know what time to expect her and so I took to the woods with my cell phone to take photos of the beautiful fall mushrooms gracing the mosses and adding a dash of colour to last year’s spent leaves. I was five minutes from my home and so when the cell phone erupted the silence I could assure her that I would see her when she got here. I took her to Martinique and then on to Salmon River Inn for lunch. She found a nice spot at Porter’s Lake Provincial Park to stay the night.

            The sometimes leadened sky had yielded to the alchemist and rendered nothing but pure gold days for the rest of the week and so Molly and I headed out in the warm still September sun. September 15 found us at Clam Harbour and with the sea stretched back as far as it could be, Molly and I crossed a creek bed to walk a sand bar that stretched a mile or so. That day yielded up silver sand and deep blue sky but no unfortunate crabs, sand dollars (the sought after prize) or sea shells strewn on the beach for me to claim as my own.

The next day we went to Taylor Head and found a crab about the size of a tea cup saucer. It was the biggest rock crab I have ever seen. Delighted with the trophy I picked it up to be processed for one craft or another. It was alive. With some reluctance I waded as far out as my Bermuda shorts would allow and threw it into the sea out of the eye of a hungry gull that might not share my compassion.

            We needed to go to Taylor Head the next just because I missed it and we needed to check out Mushaboom, Sober Island, Little Harbour, and Beaver Harbour. Breath-taking and heart warming sites carried us along the circuitous hilly way. Yesterday it was time to go to East Chezzetcook just because! On the way we watched a heron stalking in the salt flats. We stayed for a good twenty minutes but did not see it capture its meal. Molly and I are confident that it caught its prize at minute twenty-one.

Not alone at Clam Harbour