We’ve been away on vacation—a whirl wind road trip to Cape Breton and back. Hiking and sketching and eating and driving and driving…
After a long hike we stopped by the ocean and Bob took pictures while I sat and wrote the following in my sketchbook…
Musings at Green Cove, Cape Breton, Nova Scotia 2016
young boy hopping rock to rock. I used to do that—like a mountain goat. But now, not so much. So I watch the young boy…
Bob goes rock to rock, not like the young boy but slower, watching, looking, seeing pictures in puddles that the young boy jumps over.
Saw a lot of birds at the end of our hike. young woman—not so young 53 but full of energy and friendship—works for the park—stopped to talk. I know her life history—her parents married, left Cheticamp for Toronto and returned. Her father loved the woods. I know all about her cheating husband. They were musicians, embarking on her perfect life, but… and she told us a lot about the birds.
Blue flowers hiding between the rocks—bright green leaves. Rocks with stripes—cracks and magma—each a painting.
Saw a seal swimming today!
Saw Canadian geese with a gosling.
Saw cormorants and lots and lots of sea gulls—
Tide waits for no man—nor woman for that matter.
We come and go and have hateful presidential conventions and the tide comes and goes—comes and goes—comes and goes.
The birds are on their rock, and the seal swims in the sea and we go about our petty lives—but Bob takes pictures others miss.