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
