It was last year, late in the fall we went to Cape Breton to visit our family and friends. We had been down hoping to see some color on the trails as well as to introduce our first child to everyone. The leaves for the Celtic Colors festival were dull and green, and while warm for the time of the year it was mostly overcast and grey while we were there.
Several times while we were there we had tried to visit a small museum in St. Peters, but it was off season and thanksgiving, so making arrangements had not worked out so well. we said our good-byes and loaded the car and Kim cried as we backed from the long gravel driveway. The drive across the island takes about two hours and we cruised, not fast, just passing the time watching the scenery. It rained a bit then was sunny then rain again. Looking around to Kim, I said, I really wish I could have seen the museum, I had planned on doing my history paper on that visit." I was disappointed and she could tell.
After a brief discussion she picked up the cell phone and rifled around in the books behind the seat and called the number for the museum. It rang, no answer. She said there was an off season number so she called that and after a brief pause she said hello and explained the situation. We were in the car, five minutes away and had tried unsuccessfully to get to the museum. I was only privy to half the conversation but at the end, Kim said thank you and hung up.
"What a nice lady," Kim blurted, " you can tell she is a Cape Bretoner. She is doing something right now but if we can wait forty five minutes, she will let us in. Say isn't there a Tim Horton's right across the road. We can go there and do a couple of shops."
I could tell the young one was bursting to run, which caused me worry about how the next 20 hours of driving would go, so I agreed. We rounded into the coffee shop parking lot just minutes later. From the back of the parking lot, just a few hundred yards away was the ocean and across a shallow inlet stood a small lighthouse looking back at us. That must be part of the Provincial park. Along the other side of the parking lot is a sad gravel lane leading to a dilapidated white wooden frame two story house. Not a square a level or any hammer could fix this thing, yet here it sits just meters from absolute beauty...Tim Hortons coffee...He,he,... Oh yes and the ocean.
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to be continued.......
B
PS. these images are ones that actually are photographs taken using a simple digital camera and the only alteration are size and contrast. I blows me away how they look like painting or really bad photoshop...they are not... just in case anyone wanted to know>>>>
