We'll always have Halifax

Lotta driving today. We left Wolfville around 10 and ended up in Port Hood at about 6:30. I'm not making anybody get out an atlas (as if), so just accept that it was a long drive, and we made plenty of stops along the way to see what there was to see.

What we didn't bother to see at all was Halifax, as we were advised more than once that a) there isn't very much of interest there and b) if you drive into Halifax you will get lost going in and lost coming out. So we're leaving Halifax to your and our imaginations. In my version, it is full of one-way streets, all going the wrong way.

At the end of our day we find ourselves at country inn on Cape Breton Island run by a German couple, where we were served a delicious dinner, the dessert of which is depicted below.

Apple streudel and a salute to the USA in cinnamon.

Here is the little porch attached to our cottage, overlooking. . . uh . . . that body of water, which now that you mention it I don't know what it is. According to my "atlas" it might be the Gulf of St. Lawrence. Everything here is surrounded by water and it if you ask me, it's all the Atlantic Ocean.

At any rate, it's a pretty setting, and the air is cool, and there is a fine mist that occasionally becomes a drizzle. And it was on this spot that I had a quiet little meditative sit before dinner. When you travel –– OK, I can't speak for you -–– when I travel, by the end of the day my head is filled with the zillion new things I encountered during the day, and it's especially challenging to quiet the mind. So what I did was follow the very simplest of meditation instructions, which is to sit very still and see what comes up.

And what came up was the empty road, and the wide sky, and the sea, and a lobster roll and fries at a already-nameless roadside joint in an already-nameless town (luckily, they didn't literally 'come up'), and numerous rustic facilities at gas stations and trailheads (it always comes back to toilets with me, and I don't see that changing, unfortunately for my readers), and more road and more sky and most of all the beach at Lawrencetown, NS, which is apparently "known for some of the best surfing in North America." 

Because the beach is completely covered with stones. Hundreds and thousands of beautiful, smooth, perfect stones.

Dipping my toes in

I feel a connection to these stones, and I can't say exactly why. Maybe everybody does. I wanted to take them all home. I will have to be satisfied with a variation on Steven Wright's one-liner:
I have a magnificent collection of beautiful stones. I keep them on the beach at Lawrencetown, NS.

But look again. Aren't they something? Screen-saver of the gods.