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
