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.

day trip - chester, nova scotia

This past week, following an announcement from our Premier declaring all parks and outdoor spaces open for the good of our mental well-being (to be enjoyed at a safe distance, of course), we packed a thermos of tea, piled into the car, and promptly headed to the coast.

The Chester Basin has been on our list of places to drive to for a while now, and it would take more than some grey skies and threatening rain to keep us home.

While I did expect a pretty town sort of set in a bay, and a lot of nicer newer cottages, I didn't expect to find so many charming older homes. I was delighted. As we rounded the inlet and the roads narrowed, the homes with their low roof lines and groomed hedges encroached on the lane ways. They were tucked around the basin and sat proudly on the hill on the other side overlooking the water. So many beautiful homes. I just wanted to get out and wander. Those are my favourite kinds of places - the ones that make you pull over, grab your camera and start walking, not minding if it starts raining, always saying to yourself, "Just one block further, then I'll turn back."

I'm looking forward to returning when the leaves are out and the vines are climbing the picket fences and I can sit on the patio and have a lobster roll.

They had the sweetest library and reading garden.

I absolutely loved the choice of colours for this museum.

I even spotted my first bulbs poking through.

And the first Magnolia blooms!

I think this one is my favourite so far. It reminded me so much of the low cottages in 'Sconset.

I just loved the lower room with all the windows (I imagined it as a cozy sitting room), and the little area above with the bump-out (which also in my imagination, was off the master bedroom).

It had the best view.

Others reminded me of Long Island.

And of course the town had the most charming building for their flower shop. I would take it in a heartbeat.

From there, it wasn't much further down the Lighthouse Route to Peggy's Cove, and with a whole day to waste and a little tea still warm in the thermos, we carried on. We couldn't actually visit the lighthouse as it was still closed off, but just driving around the cove was breathtaking. It was the perfect day to enjoy the waves.

It was grey and wildly harsh, rugged and yet so beautiful all at once.

All the while we just kept looking at each other saying "I can't believe this is where we live now. That we can just head out for a drive and find ourselves in places like this."