Peggy’s Cove would be heaven for any artist
At last. At least.
For years and years and years I had dreamed of visiting the Atlantic provinces, yet the price to fly there was more expensive than flying to Europe – so, Europe it was. Until now. The Slow Food in Canada National Conference 2014 was being held in Tatamagouche, Nova Scotia, and now was the time. Intellectually, I knew that the life in the Atlantic provinces revolved around the ocean, but I didn’t ever stop to think about what that would look like or how the East Coast Canadian culture would be so different than the West Coast Canadian culture. Night and Day. Almost.
Tummies filled with lobster from Ryer Lobsters, the chilling and wafting sea scented ocean breeze salting my tongue, head hanging out of the window yearning to absorb the landscape, the seascape, the scent, the lobster traps piled high at the side of the road – and there was the sign.
And there was the light house. Can you see it?
Look carefully to the far right…. and in we drove.
The road turned off the main route and coiled around colourful small saltbox houses amidst weathered grey shacks and fishing stages proped over the inland cove, reminiscing memories of the heyday that once existed for the fishermen in this area.
This would become the first of many, many, and oh, so many, many little white churches in the country side. No matter how many, each stands stalwart, picturesque and commands respect. This one hailed us as we followed the narrow road into the village.
Silence. Awe. Splendor. A step back in time, yet still here….
There are perks traveling in the shoulder season. No one is here. No one.
And there she is. Tall. Proud. Strong – and free.
The wind was so blustery it almost pushed me off the rock!
Volunteers in the area painted the lighthouse this year. The Canadian government wouldn’t spring for the cost of the paint. Come on, Canada! This is Peggy’s lighthouse and a national landmark. Thank God for volunteers. I appreciate seeing Peggy’s lighthouse dressed in clean white and red. Thank you. Isn’t it truly incredible that this form on this landscape is capable of eliciting such emotion from her visitors?
And who is Peggy? There are many stories on that one, yet the one I chose to believe is the popular legend that claims Peggy was the sole survivor of a shipwreck in the late 1700’s. Peggy married a resident of the cove in the early 1800’s, and worked to help others as she, herself, had been rescued. Over time, it became known in the area, that Peggy would help. If in need, go to “Peggy in the Cove”. The village was eventually named Peggy’s Cove.
It was as still and quiet that day as it appears, now… with the o;’ Sou’ Wester whistling.
We were eager to tuck into a warm space and wrap our hands around a warm cup… though the beauty of the landscape was so unexpected, so captivating and ultimately unforgettable.
Peggy’s Cove is only 43 kilometers southwest of Halifax. A completely different world will unfold for you there. Take your sketch book.