There is something so easy and natural
about a quiet morning walk
with my brother and sisters.
While in Nova Scotia recently,
we went on numerous walks together.
The Joggin Nearing Low Tide
On several occasions
we walked to and from The Joggin,
a tidal inlet that empties into the Annapolis Basin.
It's a good 11-12 klick/6.5 mile jaunt,
with a pot of strong hot coffee
beckoning at the end.
The Joggin Looking in the Opposite Direction,
Toward the Annapolis Basin
To get there we walk along
a section of the Trans Canada Trail.
You can actually hoof it
from one end of Nova Scotia
to the other on the TCT,
but we're not that ambitious.
from Joggin Bridge
Digby from the Joggin Bridge
The Digby Pines, a well-known golf resort and spa,
overlooks the wharves where the Digby scallop fleet anchors.
In the Smith's Cove area,
the TCT traces an abandoned railbed
that once linked us by train to other places
in our far-flung and rural province.
We miss the iron horses.
Roy and Barb on the Abandoned Railbed
Now Part of the Trans Canada Trail
The tidal scenery is ever-changing,
a result of the extraordinary tides that occur here.
Nearing Low Tide at The Joggin
The Joggin fills and empties twice a day
with the rise and fall of the extreme tides.
It adjoins the Annapolis Basin
which connects to the Bay of Fundy
through Digby Gut.
The gut looks so calm and peaceful,
but it is a dangerous passage
filled with swirling currents and hidden rocks.
Frequent fogs and changeable winds
add to the dangers for boats negotiating the gut.
Generations of our family have
passed through this gap in North Mountain.
The Bay of Fundy has the highest tides in the world.
At Burntcoat Head at the top of the bay,
the tides range as much as 16.3 meters/53.5 feet.
That's change in depth of water, folks!
The Bay of Fundy
Between the Canadian Provinces of Nova Scotia and New Brunswick
And that makes for a lot of mudflats and sandbars
in bays, basins, and inlets
as the waters ceaselessly come and go.
Mudflats and Sandbars
in the Tidal Joggin
But we're not thinking about the tidal surges
that shape the scenery.
We tend to take them for granted.
The tides have been running through our lives
from the beginning.
Brother and Sister Enjoying the Morning and Each Other
We're just happy to be together
watching the moving waters and winged wildlife.
Nearing Low Tide on The Joggin
Trickling Water, Sandbars, and a Lone Gull
This last photo makes me think of my father,
whose presence I feel keenly
as I write of our family's time in the North.
Dad was a painter,
and he taught me about perspective
when I was big enough to grip a pencil.
He had me forever drawing roads, telephone poles,
and railroads receding into a vanishing point.
Donnie, Barb, and Roy
talking about anything, everything,
anticipating that welcome pot of coffee
we'll share at the end.
I miss our together walks.
It's tough to be so far apart.