Springtime in Grand-Pré

The day before my most recent junket to Newfoundland was spent exploring Nova Scotia's South Shore and Annapolis Valley regions; it was a relaxing and interesting way to make the trip to Halifax for my flight. The South Shore was a natural since it lies between Shag Harbour and the airport, but the jaunt to the valley was prompted by the need for a plate of Santa Fe Haddock at Lisa's Cafe in Windsor, NS. Lightly breaded and seasoned with southwestern spices, the flaky white fish is

served with a delightful cranberry salsa and it's definitely worth the drive. Getting there, though, was a pleasure as well; it was a perfect day for seeing the sights of the eastern Annapolis Valley around Grand-Pré National Historic Site and Evangeline Beach. One of the prettiest views of Grand-Pré is from the Post Road as it travels along a ridge above the community (top). Apple orchards were in full bloom, and the gracefully arching umbrella-shaped trees in the older orchards

were especially striking. Before the widespread use of dwarf varieties of fruit trees, standard trees were pruned in this pattern to allow the sun to reach the fruit more evenly and to keep the apples closer to the ground for picking. Although it's fallen out of favour in more recent years, this pruning style can still be seen in a few locations. The most striking sight of all, though, was a remarkable sculpture along the road to Evangeline Beach. Three doors, one standing on a base at ground level and the others arranged above it, created an intriguing and traffic-stopping attraction -- there weren't many cars on the road that afternoon, but I wasn't the only traveller who stopped for a closer look. I've done a bit of research since, but to no avail; I'd love to know more about this piece of roadside art and the artist who created it. A short drive from here lie the broad, red tidal flats of the Bay of Fundy, stretching out from shore at low tide. There'll be more about them, and their crucial role in shorebird migration, in a future post.

Of Peeps and Beaches

Beachwalking has its rewards. The broad, white stretches of sand in southwestern Nova Scotia seem to go on forever -- and the beach is a living thing, constantly changing its configuration. In winter, the sand moves offshore exposing fields of rounded rocks sculpted by scouring sand and seawater. In summer it drifts back in again to create smooth expanses where once the rocks showed through. Shells, bits of seaweed, the occasional lobster trap or float -- even a fish-splitting table -- might appear one day only to be gone the next. In spring, summer, and late into fall, though, there's another attraction: the peeps. Sanderlings (Calidris alba) stop in on their spring and fall migrations. They're here briefly to feed before continuing on the long journey between their wintering grounds in South America and the Caribbean and their breeding grounds in the High Arctic. They can be seen chasing the receding waves then running away from them in what looks like a highly animated game of tag.

Dunlin (Calidris alpina) have long, drooping bills that make them easy to identify even in their dull non-breeding plumage. These medium-sized sandpipers probe the sand at the water's edge; they too are migrating, but their journey is a shorter one, between the eastern seaboard of the United States and the shores of Hudson Bay. They are sometimes seen in mixed flocks with sanderlings and semi-palmated plovers, performing an aerial ballet as they swoop low over the waves. The star of the show here on these Nova Scotia beaches, though is a sparrow-sized shorebird that nests near the edge of the dunes -- the piping plover (Charadrius melodus).

These little birds forage on the beach, running along then stopping suddenly to feed in an abrupt stop-and-go pattern. They must be treated with respect and care since they're endangered here in Canada, due to destruction of habitat, changes in water levels, and harassment -- often unintentional -- by people, vehicles and dogs. To protect their fragile nesting sites, it's best to beachwalk away from the dunes, to keep dogs on a leash and keep them out of the dry sand at the upper reaches of the beach, and to confine any use of recreational vehicles to the wet, compact sand avoiding known nesting areas. Efforts to protect the piping plover in Southwestern Nova Scotia have been more successful than those in the rest of Atlantic Canada; the photos that accompany this post were taken at a respectful distance with a long lens, then cropped for detail. Being on the beach in the company of shorebirds is a delightful experience, but by showing them some consideration it's a treat that can be shared with future generations, both of people and of birds.