Fiona's Faint Brush with Granville Ferry

Storm readiness is always wise. The weather, although often predicted by the weather gurus, is in the end unpredictable. A master of it's own house.

We watched the predicted tracks of the storm. We prepared. We waited. At bedtime, barely a flutter of leaves, a bit of drizzle. At 2:00 a.m. only the ocassional gusts, short lived. A little rain. At 3:00, I raised my head and noticed that the lights of Annapolis Royal across the river were out. Ours had not even flickered.

We were indeed lucky. Barely a leaf down on the lawn. But the destruction and disruption elsewhere in our province and the other maritime provinces! How dreadful. How sad.

One can prepare. One can hope. But the climate is changing and we no longer have the luxury of regularity. We must all be resilient. I think we are.

Of Time and Tides

We’ve had an amazing summer off-grid at our rustic cabin in Ontario. But is it ever good to be back home in Nova Scotia as summer becomes drowsy and autumn begins to awaken. There were plenty of herons on our lake, but the herons are here too on our beach at low tide. 

The view of Annapolis Royal, across the river from us, is always changing and always a delight, whether there be fog, rain or a stunning sunset reflected off the historic buildings of Lower St. George Street. Boats come and go. Some are fishing boats, some sailboats or smaller craft. 

I haven’t seen a seal recently and the loons are not yet back for their winter stay, but I have watched with delight a cocky small bird pester a magnificent bald eagle, and listened to the loud harangue of the sea gulls gracefully circling overhead, bleached white and blue-grey. It’s good to be home.