My brother hates this. My mom, well she's quiet, but I think it worries her a little. And I get it. And I love them for it.
This year I thought I'd compromise by renting little cottages/apartments for a few days at a time with a few "free" days sprinkled in. This way I almost always have a home base, and most of them large enough and with kitchens to really spread out in case it rains or provide for myself instead of eating only at restaurants. Little brother's reaction:
Kind of. I just know where I'm landing most of the time. And that, I admit, has been grand. I've lucked out in choosing really beautiful spots. The kitchen table, however, has become command central as I figure out what to do each morning.
|If Nova Scotia were cut in thirds, I am currently at the top of the first third. Does that make sense in any way? Let's pan in.|
|I'm chillin in the Minas Basin.|
The Blomidon Peninsula is what I've been staring at for days, and it's in most of my water pictures. It's that big, jagged cliff-looking place across the water. I camped up there many years ago. We had the campground to ourselves, and when the fog rolled in from Fundy Bay, it was impossible to see anything. It was awesome.
Anyway, this is the view from Blomidon Peninsula back toward where I'm staying. Beautiful, hazy farmland.
From there I continued driving all the way out to Scots Bay, the opposite side of the peninsula.
Crap. It's all rocks. ALL rocks. And it's hot out, so there was a guy sunbathing. On rocks.
When I was a teen, my friend Jenn and I would go up to North Conway, NH, and we could easily spent most of an afternoon standing in the rivers and picking out beautiful rocks and pebbles. Only to get them home, see them dry, and realize they were no different from the rocks in our driveways. I'm not a girl who always learns from experience, so I may have taken a few rocks from this beach. Look how pretty they are when they're wet! Said rocks are now in the car somewhere, undoubtedly dry and drab. I will not look until I get home. And then maybe I'll lacquer them. Because that's not strange, right?
|I'm not a birder, but from Google, this looks like a semipalmated sandpiper.|
|This isn't so bad, but across a whole beach, this was hard to find.|
A close-up for good measure? Sure.
On my way out of Scots Bay, I came across a field of goats and sheep. *car comes to quick halt*
Then I realized I was being watched.
By the cutest and goofiest dog I've seen in a long time. Here she throws the whole herd into panic as she runs after a crow that landed on a post across the field.
Okay, back to the other side of the ridge. Blomidon Provincial Park...
And the day after vowing to never walk the ocean floor again, here I am. It's very tempting. And everyone else was doing it. A few people were swimming. No thanks. Not in mud.
For perspective, here is a shot of the little church at Grand Pre. I am staying way behind that, on the water. Blomidon is the behemoth across the bay in the background.
Ultimately, the thing about wanting a relaxing birthday is that it can end up uber relaxing and then it's not much fodder for the blog. No crazy encounters today, no mischief, no frustration. Just water and miles of road ahead of me and good thoughts--happy thoughts--about what I want the next year to be.
|Cheers to you, cheers to Canada, cheers to the incredible opportunity life offers us.|