Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Mornings in Blue Rocks
There's not much road to cover here, but every turn reveals a new and striking scene. Low tide reveals rockweed on the bluish rocks that give the village its name; the light catches the seaweed turning it to deep gold. There's more gold in the weathered wood of fishing stages, the tidy shingles of sheds and barns, and the worn timbers of wharves. Continued exploration along the coastal road will bring still more scenes that are begging to be photographed or painted by someone with an appreciative eye. There are working fishing boats, abandoned boats, punts and skiffs and dories powered by outboards or by main strength on the oars. There are lobster traps of wood or wire stacked by sheds in the off season, their brightly coloured buoys and coiled ropes neatly tucked inside.
In the stillness of early morning, deer wander down to the water's edge and coyotes' howls can be heard in the distance. Perfect reflections shimmer in the smooth surface of the coves, intensifying the colours of the sky and shore. As in many small communities in Atlantic Canada, many of the houses here belong to "summer people" from Halifax or farther afield. There are still plenty of year-round dwellers, though, so lights are on in their kitchens, where the first of the day's cups of tea are being brewed and sipped.
There's certainly no shortage of interest in this little spot, even without venturing farther down the road to Stonehurst, although it's certainly well worth the trip with its Maritime vernacular architecture and expanses of glacial paving, evidence of the times when this whole region was covered with ice during the Wisconsinan Glaciation 10,000 years ago.
When it's time to head back to Lunenburg, it's essential to make the trip at mealtime since it would be a shame to leave town without a visit to the Knot Pub for fish and chips or a Knot burger, made from locally produced Lunenburg sausage.