Lunch by the Riverbank

Just east of Liverpool, Nova Scotia, on the banks of the Medway River, lies the little community of Mill Village. An iron bridge crosses the river in the middle of the village, and next to it, the Riverbank General Store overlooks the fast-flowing water. The store now features a variety of grocery items including free-range and organic products, a gift shop with a variety of hand-crafted goods, a farm and garden section, and a café offering freshly prepared soups and

sandwiches. The café's atmosphere is light and pleasant, with soft green and white predominating, a charming painted wood floor, and local artwork on the walls. Large windows offer views of the river, the bridge, and a small garden area outside with comfortable Muskoka-
type chairs.

This business is a local success story: it opened in August of 2011 as a project of the Queens Association for Supported Living, a Queens County initiative to give people with disabilities an opportunity to participate more

fully in their community. A steady stream of visitors drop in, some from the Queens area and some from farther afield, to enjoy an ice cream cone on a hot summer's day, chat over a delicious lunch or visit the gift shop or grocery, supporting this very worthwhile endeavor. If you find yourself on the South Shore, the Riverbank General Store is well worth a short detour through scenic Mill Village.

Dipping Kiacks

Locally sourced food doesn't get much more authentic -- or more local -- than this. Each spring along the shores of New England, Canada's Maritime Provinces, and the Great Lakes, a member of the herring family best known as Alewives make their way into their spawning streams from open water. Birds like gulls, cormorants, ospreys and herons take advantage of the buffet, and locals line the banks of the streams with dipnets to catch

a share of Nature's bounty. The fish are bony like most herring, but when smoked to soften the bones they're a great local delicacy. In southwestern Nova Scotia they're known as "kiacks", pronounced like "kayak". Years ago, no small community grocery or general store was without a wooden box of smoked kiacks being sold for a few cents each.

The kiacks arrive in early May, and the word goes out up and down the shore. These days, fishing times in each river are regulated, for periods ranging from a few hours to full days. Times are posted near the stream and are strictly enforced, so when there's no fishing the kiacks make their way upstream unimpeded. During the open hours, fishers line the banks with nets at the ready, dipping in just upstream of the rock they stand on and move it downstream with the water's flow, catching the small silvery fish as they head up-river to their spawning grounds. They're placed in tubs or crates for transport, and the best of them are set aside for salting and smoking. The rest will be used immediately for lobster bait or frozen for future use. The

spring lobster season will be in effect until the end of May so they'll definitely be put to good use -- no waste here!

Kiack season is a social event, too; there's plenty of time between runs of fish to visit, catch up with old friends, or talk about a wealth of riveting topics like politics or the weather. All to soon, the run will come to and end and the dipnets will be put away for another year. Right now though, for young and old, the riverbank is the place to take part in a tradition that's been kept alive in these parts since the first natives caught sight of the silver flash of fish in the stream.

River Jewels

Cold winter days and nights might make staying indoors tempting, but they create some wonderful sculptures with flowing fresh water that are hard to resist. One of the most accessible spots for seeing these sparkling natural creations is the footbridge next to the Old Woolen Mill Museum in Barrington, Nova Scotia. The mill is a relic of the days when sheep were raised throughout southwestern Nova Scotia; it opened in 1884 and closed in the 1960s, carrying out all the necessary steps in the production of wool from washing and picking through carding, spinning and weaving. A

dam created a headpond for the vertical-shaft turbine that powered the mill, and the resulting diversion of water makes for some interesting currents and flow patterns. When the temperature drops well below freezing, ice forms on the rocks, concrete dam, and riverside grasses. With a little imagination, the shapes can take on a life of their own -- a ferocious beast with sparkling rows of teeth here, a glittering string of suspended beads there, or perhaps a fight to the death between a dragon and a stegosaurus. Hey, it could happen! I love how fleeting these sculptures are -- a few

hours of warm sunshine and they're gone forever, but the potential is always there for a new gallery with every cold snap.


There won't be any more ice sculptures in my future for this week anyway, since there's a stretch of several days of positively balmy weather (well, 5° C anyway) on its way. Could this mean that spring's on its way?