The picture of a place

August 14: Peggy's Cove lighthouse, Nova Scotia





August 14: near Peggy's Cove


Thirty years ago as an 11-year-old travelling East I glanced up from books, catching the landscape in flashes. As an adult driver I saw its continuity. On August 11 we left the Ottawa Valley and drove 1,400 km to Whycocomagh (Why-COG-a-muh), Nova Scotia, 16 hours. The St. Lawrence lowlands flowed past Quebec’s Laurentian Mountains into the Appalachians.

My daughters overturn stones in search of crabs, catching details, while I’m enamoured of the big picture¹: textures of rocks and trees, the way clouds move and light falls. Together we assemble fuller stories.

Peggy’s Cove, Nova Scotia, is one of the most photographed places on Earth, a fishing village turned tourist trap. But just outside it, we noticed a peculiar, unmarked landscape and stopped to explore. Low hillocks surrounded a distressed lagoon. The land was green with salt-tolerant shrubs and scattered with jagged boulders. I felt particularly drawn to one barren hill crowned with rocks like a circle of old, wise people. The place was sacred. I felt peaceful and awake.

If you’re connected to the earth, new territories seem variations on places you already know. It’s like meeting a distant cousin for the first time: the face is familiar and startling.

~~~~~~~~~~~

¹ Interesting reflections on the big picture in susandennis's journal yesterday.





August 18: Aeolian dunes at Cavendish beach, Prince Edward Island


( +2 )

My music of 1982/83

From songdogmi

This meme is supposed to list the music I liked the year I graduated from high school (1982). But that's pretty boring, because I had hardly started paying attention to popular music except a little C&W; I remember few songs. In my second semester at university (1983) I started going out dancing. My list from that year is much more interesting, so I cheated and did both.

( Read more... )

The spring of 1983 was easily the most interesting season of my youth, but I was also closeted and depressed. In August 1983 I had a born again experience, threw out all my new popular albums, and stopped having fun. If I did the lists from 1984 onward, I would hardly know any songs.

I could never stand Michael Jackson.

It was interesting doing these lists. I had forgotten all about my favourite song from 1982. And for years I've had the tune to "Come dancing" in my head, but couldn't remember the lyrics or the artist.