Drawn to Water – Nourished by the Sea

Many of us, especially those from the East Coast are drawn to waterways - oceans, rivers, lakes and brooks. Perhaps, it is because we are made of water, for water and it replenishes us. In Nova Scotia we are never far from the sea. There is awe for its beauty and there should be respect for the power.

There are those who harvest it, fishers of all kinds who toil on the water as the sun rises from the sky, giving us a plentiful bounty. There are those who sail and navigate on sailboats, schooners, pleasure craft and large ships from the breaking of dawn into the sunbeams of mid day or until the magnificence of sunsets. There is the transfer of goods, both massive or small- luxury and basic. There is the maneuvering of waterways for thrills or relaxation that cause marinas and yacht clubs to be overflowing and coastal countryside to be dotted with docks, big and small. These endeavours bring the waters alive with laughter and comradery and life to a community. There are those who individually conquer waters such as strong swimmers and athletic surfers who shift, ride and slice through both the calm and the rough. Kayakers and canoeists are often old souls that traverse

across the waterways in tune with nature and their surroundings as did the first people of Canada; revelling in their calling and becoming one with the sea. There is a shared majesty among all vessels, whether a little dory, a tall ship or a cruise ship. And there is a mystery and creativity inherent in their makers and builders.

Those that can transform drawings and raw materials into vessels, simple or complex, are blessed with a kind of magic that pours out of them. This talent allows us to coast, glide, bounce and chop our way through water.

There are also the seekers, combers, and watchers. These water lovers explore, bask, reflect and seek. I consider myself among these sea lovers compelled to be near the water, especially the sea for the soothing of the soul it brings. Yes-there is a seeker, watcher, and comber in me. I come from multiple generations of sea captains, a ship’s builder and also multiple generations of Newfoundland lighthouse keepers yet there is little desire in me to conquer it.

But I have an insatiable urge to be nourished by it, at its side and to be calmly submerged.Saltwater breezes always take me back to my childhood where you could hear the roar of the Northumberland Strait as I fell asleep. Seaside winds both soft and strong rift through my hair giving such a comfort while the aroma of wild roses mesmerize.

When we visited the Antrim Coast in Ireland where my great-great-great- grandfather was a sea captain, I felt a deep connection to the people, the land, and the seacoast there.

Lighthouses also call to me. They are majestic beacons of hope, safe harbour in storms and unwavering guardians. They stand tall as testaments to another time, another era yet many seek them and are stirred by their glory. Mermaids are often the subject of my artistic endeavours and I identify with their connection to both land and sea- somehow a part of both worlds.

I grew up in a small northern Nova Scotia village which was home to an active wharf and fish factory. As a little girl I was shy around the big, strong fishers, swinging gear and traps on to boats. As I grew, I came to love the sight of brightly coloured boats with intriguing names nestled into wharves and harbour across Nova Scotia and the eastern seaboard and often preserve their loveliness with my camera.

As a child and youth, I also loved a freshwater brook where we swam, washed my waist length hair, and watched young adults wash their cars with radios blaring. It was a freeing place- filled with laughter and friendship. Melmerby Beach and Big Island, beaches, both of Pictou County, were also a source of socialization with friends or a place for family gatherings. Daytime meant picnics or some sunbathing and dips to cool off from the hot summer sun, evenings gave birth to bonfires and roasting of marshmallows. Big Island is where I learned to swim, and my parents would take me for evening swims just before the sun went down. The magnificence of ocean sunsets stay etched in your memories.

The lakes of Lochaber, Guysborough County fascinated yet scared me a little as we would drive by them every summer on the way to see the old farmhouse where my mother lived until she was 12. She would retell the story of falling out of a boat reaching for lily pads and being rescued by a farmer in a nearby field because she could not swim. The gorges, waterfalls and caves of New England charm and intrigue me with their mystery and grandeur.

The beach has become increasingly important to me as time goes by and we seek them across our province at every opportunity. As an adult I have the longing to be refreshed by walks along the seawater’s edge, am still compelled to dip my toes in, during chilly or warm temperatures, go for a full dive under the summer sun, a short swim parallel to the shoreline, or simply to float. Searching for sea glass with my husband and son brings a sense of treasure hunting and watching our Golden Retriever and Black Lab frolic and run free brings them and us such joy. Recently, on an unusually warm May Day in Nova Scotia my family and I spent the afternoon at a beautiful Pictou County beach where I spent time as a child and as a teenager as it was beneath the 13-acre property of what was once my family’s. Four years after the passing of my dad, the majority of the land was sold by my mom, all but one acre, which was given to me as a special gift from my parents and my three older brothers.

Being there with my family and our Golden Retriever and Black Lab puppy was a piece of heaven on earth. This beach is my favourite kind. Of course, there is the splendour and attraction of a tropical one with pristine white sand and turquoise water but to me this beach shines brighter as it is rich in character and texture. There are small cliffs chiseled and sharpened by the storm Fiona with red toned grains that drift down the banks that turn into lovely golden sand. There are shale rocks that jet out into the sea like a perfect mermaid’s perch and also groupings of large rocks that are smoother closer to the shoreline where you can sit, read or even sleep. Here there are beach glass finds and the view is expansive, yet the shoreline hugs you. The water is pristine and clear with the sounds of waves creating as the sun dances across it. The sky was a mystical mixture of blues, grays and mauves with sun rays that suggest the staircase to heaven is within reach.

I love the various rocks of our shorelines almost as much as the sea herself- Sculpted white and flat like those of Peggy’s Cove, brownish grey with jagged edges like Whitepoint on the South Shore, pile upon pile of speckled gray such as Lawrencetown, a kaleidoscope of colour among the water’s edge, fossilized with a billion years of geological history such as those of Parrsboro and Arisaig and many others with their own charm. These rocks are steady and grounded. They are nature’s bones, timeless and enduring as the sea herself.

Eyes are often said to be mirrors of the soul and the rocks along many of our Nova Scotia beaches are duplicates of the eye colours of many Nova Scotians- cobalt, emerald green, deep chocolate, sky gray, translucent blue or a slate brown or hazel tone that is the shade most often seen in the boulders and stones that anchor the shoreline along the Northumberland Strait.

Throughout the year, there are golden sunsets, stark dunes, luminous colours, deep blue skies, dancing swirls and intricate patterns in the sand and waves, there are dark green waters and soft blue ripples. There are the golds of all, the whites and blue grays of winter and the easy mauves and baby pinks of spring and summer. And through it all, the exquisite and sometimes haunting beauty of the ocean and the coast feeds our souls.