sunset at peggy's cove

The first time we saw Peggy's Cove it was late March. It was grey and you couldn't tell if it was rain or  icy spray being whipped off the water. The waves crashing into the rocks at the base of the lighthouse could be seen over the tops of the hills as you drove into the cove, even before you even saw the water swirling white and fierce. We couldn't actually get in to see it because it was barricaded off for Covid, but even at a distance, it was still something to behold.

Now that things have reopened (with precautions), we decided to drive the lighthouse route again and see it up close. We arrived just before the sun started setting, and unlike our first visit, the water was unusually calm. It isn't until you're standing on the rocks that you can fully grasp their scale. These giant boulders seem to have been hurled up from the ocean and thrown on top of one another like mere pebbles. The boys ran wildly all over, climbing and jumping around, laughing and trying to outdo each other until the sun disappeared and it was time to make our way home.

As we made one last loop around, the sky was brilliant orange and pink, the pools of calm water in the inlets reflecting the sunset perfectly.

It's a beautiful place.

Legend says that on a stormy October night, sometime in the mid-1800's, a schooner ran hard aground. With the powerful waves and the sleet and the fog, all aboard were lost, save one young woman who managed to swim ashore. Her name was Margaret, or "Peggy" to those who knew her. She never left the area, and eventually married a local man. Having quite the tale, she became well known, and over time, people began to refer to it as Peggy's Cove.