South Shore, Nova Scotia

This place has captured my heart. I'll leave a piece of me behind when I begin driving south tomorrow. 

A gorgeous area. And Canadians are super friendly people. I 'almost' want to move in, but I have a lovely home to return to.

Life is good.

Peggy's Cove, Nova Scotia

Bless the ships at sea. Bless the lighthouses that guide them home.
This is Peggy's Cove lighthouse, an active lighthouse. This is one of the most photographed lighthouses in the country and I swore I wouldn't take a picture of it. But I did. And more than one.
I have a strong affinity for lighthouses. There was a time when I sailed on the ocean and a lighthouse would often guide us to shore. 

I remember a feeling, all bleary eyed from sleep deprivation in the middle of the night, THEN breathing a sigh of relief. The light.

French Village, Nova Scotia

I continue to be taken by the beauty of this area, the warmth of the Canadians, and the general laid back feel of this country.

Rainy days continues, only one day of sun. I'm making the most of it. Getting out between showers, but today looks like one of those all day rain events. All ok, as I have plenty of inside things to do. Back home, there are always chores.

Below is a photo of Micou's Island. It's an island just across the way from where I'm staying. At low tide, one can cross over on a sandbar. There's a lush pine forest and walking through it after the rain smelled like Christmas. Loved it!

Nova Scotia

Arrived in French Village, Nova Scotia (south shore), yesterday. A serious road warrior the past couple days. Yesterday I was in 5 states and 2 countries in crazy blinding rain. Today I continued to deal with rain, but not as insane. When the rain let up, I jumped out and took photos. I'm thrilled that fog seems to be a Nova Scotia specialty (along with the rain, not so good). Rumor has it sun is in the forecast for tomorrow, and 70 degrees! Wow! Staying in a house overlooking St. Margaret's Bay that empties into the Atlantic. It was once the lighthouse keeper's house. I feel a deep connection to the sea here.

view from the former lightkeeper's house where I'm staying

New Brunswick coast, shortly before I got to Nova Scotia

quick shot in the rain, somewhere near Moncton Nova Scotia

St. Andrews, near the Bay of Fundy as one can see from the tides

near the Bay of Fundy

fog - there will be more!

I'm making a serious attempt to catch up on my blog today. Mostly because an artist friend, whom I love and respect, suggested that if I were going to have a blog I needed to post in it. Yes, right! So I'm rescuing my blog from its dormant phase. I had thoughts of starting a new blog, but since that's not happening, I'm plodding along with this one.
This week was a mix of sun and a stretch of dreary weather. Occasionally I capture some fantastic photos on those bleak gray days. Here are a couple from this week.

Mist on the Delaware River - in-between the rain showers

Smoky mist on the Pepacton Reservoir - surreal

A trip to my favorite place, Block Island, mid-October. Quiet time of year with most stores/restaurants/hotels closed down after a busy season.
I've been going to Block Island for years, but never tire of its beauty. It's usually just me, my bike, and my camera. And the sea with the salt air, the bluffs, the endless stretch of beach. It's all I need.
A challenge to photograph this small island again and again, but I always  seem to find something different. My happy place.

Solitude

The bluffs

sea crest

offshore wind farm - only one in the country, now up and running on the Block!

I have a thing for these beach fences.

I wrote this piece the end of October. Finally posting...

I rarely discuss anything deeply personal on my blog. Sometimes there must be exceptions. My mother, whom I loved with every ounce of my being, died on October 16th. I flew down to her home in Florida a couple weeks ago to say my final good-bye. Hardest thing I've ever done. She took my hand,  seemed to know she was leaving soon. Her last words to me were, "I guess this is our final good-bye." Although dementia had taken over, she said my name and yes, she knew me, if only for a moment. I broke down when I left the room. The finality was overwhelming. Loving her so much and knowing she was leaving forever was too much for my heart.
I wanted to stay with my mom in FL, but no one knew how long she'd hang on.  She had 'almost' left us a few times and then rallied. Her doctor said she'd probably live anywhere from a week to a month. She died less than two weeks after I left.
I went back to work after a week in Florida. My work is with small children as a therapist and they also need me. Tough call.
My mom was once my my best friend. When I knew her death was imminent, I went to Block Island in search of peace. It is a place I've visited countless times over the years. I would've called my mom when I arrived on the island as always I did in the past. She often seemed to live vicariously through my little adventures.
My mom loved the sea and gave me the gift of knowing and loving the ocean. Every year she took our family to a beach in Virginia for a vacation. I have memories of a lovely cottage surrounded by sand and endless hours swimming/playing in the sea. Wonderfully happy times. I remember being in the ocean with my mom. She would carry me in her arms when I was a small child way out beyond the breakers. No fear for her and she instilled that in me. I still often swim out beyond big waves with reckless abandon.
Like the sea, there is an ebb and flow to my grief. At times it comes crashing over me and I feel as if I'm drowning. I'm brought to my knees. Then there are times where it's a gentle flow and I know I'm going to be alright. I sense my mom is still with me, in a better place.
Today's blog is for my mom. I will miss her always.

“I thought of you and how you love this beauty,
And walking up the long beach all alone
I heard the waves breaking in measured thunder
As you and I once heard their monotone.
...

Around me were the echoing dunes, beyond me
The cold and sparkling silver of the sea --
We two will pass through death and ages lengthen
Before you hear that sound again with me.”
― Sara Teasdale

Block Island