I'm grateful for the weather. It's been hot! For anyone who thinks a parka is necessary north of the border in July...
Good thing I snooped around in a local store and bought this.
|Happy time?! Yeah, get that into my pits pronto. Even if it is roll on, which I haven't used since 1988. When the sweat starts to roll, I want it to smell like an orange factory up in here.|
While there are many awesome factors to the western shore of Nova Scotia (hello, beautiful sunsets!), I feel antsy here. It's hot, I'm surrounded by water, but I can't go in and cool off. The mud thing, the snail-killing thing--all of that has me feeling limited. Plenty of people swim here, but it's not for me.
Knowing that yesterday would be so hot, I decided to make the trek back east. Martinique Beach is north of Halifax. Unchartered territory for me.
|The anticipation of the boardwalk over the dunes...|
|Whoa Nelly! Perfection.|
Hello, little sand dollar. What? You want to go home to New Hampshire with me? Well, okay.
Hello, icy Atlantic waters that keep the beach 20 degrees cooler than the rest of the province.
Hello, second disgusting gelatinous thing I've found on a beach here. You will raise reader questions not only about your identity, but also about my sanity for posting a picture on here among such pretty things.
Hello, little snail-y/hermit-y crab thing. You'll get there, little buddy. Keep going.
Hello, little half shell. Yeah, I've got nothing else to say to you.
Hello, little hermit crab hopefully helping another little hermit crab with a real estate situation.
Hello, little birds that hang together.
And then run away from the water together.
Hello, little mermaid. You were a sweet find on this beach.
I walked for hours, ate my little picnic, and promptly took a nap. It was the best afternoon ever.
Now, I grew up 20 miles from the beach. I still live close to the water. The ocean is no stranger. But for me, it's this about my experiences with Nova Scotia beaches: You don't have to fight for a parking space. You don't have to pay to see the ocean. You don't have to fight your way through a crowd on a humid day to get a spot of sand. You don't have to share in anyone else's miserable experience because they're sitting so close to you that you can hear everything happening on their blanket. Granted, I'm not here on a Saturday, but I suspect it's still not the same as back home.
Also, when you're driving away from the beaches in NH and MA, you don't stop on the side of the road because the seagulls out on the sandbar look awfully big BECAUSE THEY'RE BALD EAGLES. No, that has never happened to me at Hampton Beach.
When I pulled up to the beach, Band of Horses was singing, "The world is such a wonderful place..." and it is. Sometimes I just need to get far away, collect myself, and remember that. I need an open road and the time to seek a great perhaps. It puts everything back into perspective.
I'll miss cottage #10. And the sunsets.
And the reminders posted everywhere, each signed by both owners.
And the apparent nudity problem on this remote pier.
But I'll miss you most of all, crazy tides that leave boats stranded in mud.
Now it's time to hit the road. xo