Happiness, Peace, Solitude

Happiness,Peace, and Solitude

Such values have become increasingly rare in our society. We are constantly caught up in a race - encouraged to keep up, to hang in, and to be part of everything imaginable, whether we truly need it or not. We are surrounded by an endless stream of noise, much of it disguised as breaking news and we rarely stop to consider how deeply this constant stimulation affects us. Yet. when we are given the opportunity to escape-to a quiet lake, a distant corner of the desert, a remote mountain peak, or perhaps a peaceful and beautiful garden-we may begin to notice something changing within us.

A sense of calm slowly takes hold. Then, almost unexpectedly, we experience a sudden happiness brought on by the peace and solitude surrounding us. It can feel like an awakening—as though, for a brief moment, we become aware of how far we have drifted from something essential.

The feeling can be remarkably intense. It reaches beyond the moment and lingers long after we have returned to our ordinary lives. And once we have experienced that profound sense of peace, we may find ourselves longing to return to it—to seek out that quiet place, that stillness, and that feeling of being truly present, again and again.

When I went out to the Lightstation this morning, a fresh breeze had already sprung up. I was glad I had put on a warm, solid sweater. The sky, however, was magnificent—a deep blue that seems to appear only at this time of year, when the air is so clear and crisp that everything looks sharper and more vivid.

The tide was still out, so I made my usual hike across the ocean floor, climbing up and down the stairs that form part of the access to the Head Harbour Lightstation.

I had planned to stay through high tide and then return home after a full day of work, spending my time on carpentry and painting.

The buildings here are old—very old—and they require a great deal of care and TLC.

I have already established a small carpentry shop inside the old foghorn building. My project today was to complete something I had started a week earlier: rebuilding the small deck at the entrance to the foghorn building.

Several hours into the work, I took a short break. That was when I really noticed the peace surrounding me.

By then, the tide had risen to nearly twenty-five feet, completely cutting the Lightstation off from the mainland. Nobody could come out here. I was alone, and I would remain so until the tide receded again around 4:30 in the afternoon.

The silence was remarkable.

The only sounds were those of the sea—waves rolling, breaking, and splashing against the rocks below. Every now and then, I could hear the distant rumble of a boat somewhere out on the water, slowly making its way toward some faraway destination.

And then there was nothing again.

Just the sea, the wind, the old buildings, and the immense solitude of the place.

It was me, the Lighthouse and the sea

For a few hours, the outside world simply disappeared. And standing there, surrounded by nothing but nature and silence, I was reminded of how rare moments like this have become—and how deeply they can affect us when we finally experience them.

When The Cold Winds Start Blowing - It Won't Be Long

After a rather hot and dry summer we got a sudden reminder that we have reached September. And already the first week of the month is gone.

And while we have been talking about it all the previous month, it becomes much more of a topic in September. 

Of course, I am thinking of the coming winter and what to do. And I know many of you are having the same thoughts. It is about whether we will be able to enjoy another warm winter in the south, or whether we will be relegated to endure ice and snow back home. And this wouldn't even be a serious question if the American village idiot hadn't started the crazy war with Iran driving the price of gas through the roof.  

I am having a hard time to contain my anger about this, but Bea keeps me attached to the ground - sort-of!

It is clear that we won't drive our motorhome south again. I flatly refuse to pay 7Bucks/gal at 8mpg for Diesel.

But we are kind of lucky that we have a second RV - our trusty Flagstaff trailer and our 1t. van as a tow vehicle.

And then there is the question about where to go. It isn't much tempting to spend time among nutty supporters of the criminal regime.

So I rather would add extra miles scooting down the Baja. Mexicans are nice people, they value democracy and a friendly attitude to visiting Canadians. I have already scouted out a few really nice locations "south of the border". The alternative would really be a home-stay with ice and snow.

If the previous winter already deterred thousands of Canadians to travel south - this winter there will be even fewer Canadians in the US.

But how did we spend this summer?

Part of our summer was the realization that our tourist tours on the island experienced a big slump in business volume which also is part of the "achievements" of the known village idiot who ruined American's economy with a staggering 13% inflation rate. No wonder people try to save money on the vacation budget. On a positive note, we have seen a record-breaking number of bookings for our AirBnB and VRBO accommodations. 

The lack of booked Island Tours also has a positive side as I have been thinking of retiring from the business. After all, I have run these tours for 15 years. 

It also made it possible that I got elected as President to the board of directors for the Head Harbour Light Station. As such I have spent a lot of time out there working with maintenance of the buildings, which is a very rewarding job. 

The coming weeks will go with preparations for winter. Even though we should decide to stay home, we have tons of firewood set up - so no worries about that.

This morning I was walking Dixie in the cool northern wind, when I saw flocks of Canada Geese heading south. I could take this as an omen and follow their example.

It's June And The Fog Is Moving In

Almost the middle of June, I watch this grey wet mass moving in, covering the rocks, trees and open maritime meadows like a grey wash cloth. This is prime time for sea fog lingering around, preferably the early mornings and early evenings making summer temperatures drop like a rock. The air is at a 100% humidity and everything is dripping wet. Years ago Campobello Island got a FOG FEST. 5 days of celebrating fog as if trying to mocking it with music across the island. 

And yes, I was looking for an extra jacket when Dixie was bugging me to "go-for-a-walk" after supper, her subtle demands not to be misinterpreted. 

Before we got the fog, we had some clear and sunny days offering plenty opportunity to get busy outdoors. And oops, I got a new job. Joining the board of "The Friends of the Head Harbour Lightstation" I advanced to be their president. "President" means getting involved in planning and execution of very necessary repairs on the 5 buildings making, up the Lightstation. The maritime climate is fast to take a toll on wooden buildings, when maintenance is lacking for a few years. 

And you should understand that these buildings are accessible only under low tide when the ocean reveals a gravel bar across which we have to go. That leaves just 4hrs. max, before the water is speeding back, creating a strong tidal current powerful enough to whip anybody of their feet, which would be certain death in the freezing cold waters of the Bay of Fundy.

 

With April Gone.....It's About Time

The last night frost is barely a week ago and we are still wondering how much longer the cold weather will last.

This nasty type of weather is anything but normal and Bea is showing me pictures of previous years when flowers were out at this time of the year.

Ice cold northern winds are turning even sunny days into frosty experiences.

Finally yesterday, I saw the first forsythia starting to show their happy yellow flowers and today I saw a few daffodils near our front yard apple tree.

Finding something to do during cold days I have been trying to stick to indoors tasks.

Our motorhome had been sitting quietly, untouched, until the day I discovered something wasn’t right. The passenger-side rear inner tire had completely lost its pressure—and no matter how hard I tried, it refused to take on any air.

With no quick fix in sight, I booked an appointment at a repair shop just across the border, hoping for a straightforward solution. But things turned out to be anything but simple.

After dropping off the rig, the shop owner called with an update. They were struggling—big time. The wheel nuts wouldn’t budge. Even their air tools were no match for them. In the end, it took three mechanics, a very long breaker bar, and a good deal of determination to finally loosen them by hand.

As it turned out, this was the same troublesome tire that had caused us headaches throughout our trip, requiring assistance not once, but twice before. The culprit, yet again, was the valve stem.

This latest chapter in our tire saga set us back $150—an amount that, considering the effort involved, felt almost reasonable. Now, with the repair behind us, we’re crossing our fingers and hoping this will finally put an end to the issue for good.

As if the tire troubles weren’t enough, the list of little fixes around the motorhome kept growing. This time, our attention turned to the pleated window blinds. Over the course of the trip, they had taken a beating—some were crumpled beyond redemption, while another sagged helplessly, its strings long past their prime.

Instead of patching things up one by one, we decided it was time for a full upgrade. We ordered roller-style blinds for the entire coach, hoping for a cleaner look and a more durable solution on the road.

Of course, nothing in motorhome life is ever quite as simple as it sounds. What seemed like a straightforward swap quickly turned into a labour-intensive project, demanding patience, time, and more effort than we had bargained for. Still, step by step, we’re transforming the space—making it a little more comfortable and a lot more our own.

And while I had been spending time in the bus, Bea had been busy in the kitchen department baking delicious bread and buns. 

And speaking of baking, I can mention our dear  neighbour Deanna. Her cakes look just as amazing as her house.

If for once the weather turns out a little sun, we take Dixie out for a forest walk. The other week we had just returned to the van and were about to drive away when we discovered this little guy: Do you know what it is?

JUST IN:

Full winter in Nova Scotia and northern New Brunswick

The news of yet another return of winter is definitely a bit unsettling. Just when we thought we were finally past the season’s icy grip, here it comes again, reminding us that the weather has a mind of its own.

It’s a harsh reminder that no matter how many sunny days we might have ahead, the unpredictable nature of winter still has a few tricks up its sleeve. I’m sure many of us are hoping it’s just a brief cold snap, but either way, it adds a bit of a chill to the air—both literally and metaphorically.

Time to pull out the extra blankets, maybe huddle in for a few more cozy nights indoors. Here’s to hoping that spring shows up soon to stay!

So Dixie says Good-Bye and takes another nap waiting for better weather.