Sabbatical Journal, Day Twenty-Four

DAY TWENTY-FOUR

            One of our favorite episodes of the British comedy Keeping Up Appearances was when Hyacinth decided that she wanted to host a “riparian picnic”.  When she invited her guests to join her and Richard on the picnic, they all had to look up the word “riparian” to find out its meaning.  They found out that the picnic would happen by a river since the word means “by or near a river”.   The result of the picnic near the river was that Hyacinth and Richard ended up getting drenched in the river while the guests laughed about the ending. 

            We decided to have a riparian picnic of our own today.  We packed a lunch of smoked fish (haddock), potato salad, bread, mayonnaise, and cookies with some iced tea and drove to a little roadside park we had seen when we were driving in the area last weekend.  It is a place called Hebb’s Landing and it is by the side of the Annapolis River.  There is a boat launch there and several places for picnics to happen.  We chose a covered one by the side of the river.  The wind was blowing briskly but the sun was shining brightly so we anchored down our paper plates with heavier objects and began the picnic, putting mayonnaise on bread and scooping up potato salad and munching happily as we looked up the beautiful blue water of the river running nearby. 

            One could not have asked for a more beautiful and tranquil scene for having a picnic or for any other reason.  Birds swam in the water.  Wildflowers grew in the grasses in our view.  We were thankful to be there enjoying this special moment together. 

            God gives us special moments in life to enjoy.  Sometimes they are planned, as was this picnic and there are other times when the moments just happen and we can bask in the beauty, serenity, and love of the place and the people we may share the moments with. 

            Our days in Nova Scotia are winding down.  Soon we will leave the cool breezes of the Bay of Fundy to return home to the hot winds of our Texas summer as they give way to the hint of autumn in the air that we hope will come quickly.  Even as we enjoy each of the remaining days here with the natural beauty and the pleasant feeling air, we will give thanks for the blessings of being able to share this together with one another.  We will also give thanks to God for allowing us to enjoy these blessings and for the moments in which we live. 

            “The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make his face to shine upon you, and be gracious to you; the Lord lift up his countenance upon you, and give you peace. “  (Numbers 6:24-26)

Sabbatical Journal, Day Twenty-Three

DAY TWENTY-THREE

            Monday of our last week in Nova Scotia---chore day, the need to wash clothes has come again so we are preparing for a trip to Digby to go to the Laundromat.  While we are there we plan to browse their lineup of gift shops and see what they may have that we have not seen while here.  We seem to have a need to find some reminders of our time here, maybe something nautical in nature since that is the theme of this area.  I am finding boats of all kinds to be of interest and would like to find something to bring home that would remind me of Parker’s Cove and the fishing industry that is of great importance here.

            I have almost finished reading my fifth book, Strange Glory: A Life of Dietrich Bonhoeffer by Charles Marsh.  It is a new biography of the German theologian that has just come out in print.  I have known a small amount about Bonhoeffer dating back to my days in seminary but have not known a great deal about him so I wanted to read more and this new biography has been receiving good reviews. 

            Bonhoeffer is a complex person.  Reared in an affluent German family, his father a successful psychiatrist and his mother a socialite, with servants to care for the needs of all family members, he enjoyed an upbringing with all the advantages of the upper echelon of German society of the early part of the 20^th century.  Neither of his parents was extremely religious and church attendance was rare for him but he somehow developed an interest in spirituality at an early age and declared at the age of 15 that he wanted to become a theologian.  His parents neither encouraged or discouraged his decision and sent him to an excellent school in preparation for this career decision.

            He completed his advanced educational training with high marks and moved on to seminary, which was a very complex and complicated undertaking in his time.  Before he had finished his seminary education, he had written two doctoral dissertations and had received his PhD in theology and had set his sights on a professorship at the University of Berlin. 

            In order to fulfill the requirements for being licensed as a pastor in addition to receiving his degree, he had to work in a church setting for a year.  He chose to work in a lower socioeconomic neighborhood in Berlin with youth who had little religious training.  At first he found this difficult but then he began to teach them Bible stories that they had never heard and to incorporate music and drama into his work and won them over to wanting to know more about the Christian life. 

            This experience opened the door to the desire in his life to be a pastor and, instead of immediately pursuing a professorship at the university, Bonhoeffer served as assistant to a pastor at a German Lutheran Church in Barcelona, Spain where many expatriates lived.  He enjoyed being in Spain and found the time to travel to Italy and the Middle East while there.  He had a great love for travel and took every opportunity to go places about which he had read as a youth. 

            The time he spent in Barcelona sparked his interest in the Roman Catholic faith especially after his trip to Rome and his worship experiences at some of the great cathedrals in Rome, including St. Peter’s Basilica in Vatican City.  Bonhoeffer developed a great love for the monastic way of life which would become the basis for the way the Confessing Movement would be structured later in his life. 

            As Germany began to change with the imposition of Nazi rule under Adolph Hitler, Bonhoeffer became aware that he could no longer function as a pastor in the German Lutheran Church and he began a dissident church called the Confessing Church.  At first it was tolerated by the Nazis but soon they began to order more and more restrictions on religious freedoms for Germans and all they ruled in the Third Reich.  Bonhoeffer’s Confessing Church was outlawed and anyone who participated in it could be charged with treason and arrested.  Hitler declared himself the new Messiah and demanded worship for him and his rule. 

            Friends that Bonhoeffer had made in the United States during a visit to Union Theological Seminary in New York in the early 1930s encouraged him to move to America to avoid being arrested and he did make a visit to New York in 1939 but felt so homesick that he could not stay so he returned to Germany to face whatever would happen there alongside his German friends who were being forced to serve in the military. 

            Bonhoeffer joined the underground movement and became a double spy, working for an agency where he was supposed to report on what was going on in England and the United States but at the same time he was reporting to the underground what he would learn about the Nazi plans during the war.  Soon, he was caught up in a plan to assassinate Hitler and that would eventually lead to his arrest and execution just before the war ended. 

            Bonhoeffer is widely known as the author of the book The Cost of Discipleship which came about as a result of his experiences and suffering.  He examined the biblical texts with Jesus’ words to “take up your cross, and follow me” and tried to explain what that means in our daily lives.  He was very critical of Americans when he visited the US twice and declared that they had never experienced a Reformation such as Germany had with Luther.  He thought of Americans as enjoying an individualism in religious thought and life that did not connect with his idea of community which he had written about in his doctoral dissertation.  As life became harder and harder for him in his native Germany, he made the decision to know the sufferings of his fellow Germans in a personal way rather than to run away to the US and avoid it all.  That decision cost him his life but his years in prison before his death left a legacy of writings that ask the modern reader to reflect upon what the cost of discipleship is for us in our world.  Is our religious or Christian experience one that is very individualistic or do we feel connected to the worldwide Christian community and its sufferings?  What does it mean to consider a “cost” to Christian discipleship today or is there a cost at all to modern American Christians?  What do Jesus’ words from Mark mean to us today as we consider them? 

            “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.  For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel will save it.”

 (Mark 7:34-35)      

Sabbatical Journal, Day Twenty-Two

DAY TWENTY-TWO

            Lately there has been a blue heron staying around the harbor area in Parker’s Cove.  It was here this morning early and it is back this evening near dusk.  It has been seen in the vicinity on several days.  It is a tall graceful bird with a long neck, and gray in color.  It is mainly looking around through the seaweed that covers the rocks after the tide goes out.  One time I saw it with a fish in its mouth so it has found some success in its search for food here. 

            This is Sunday so we went to the same United Church of Canada congregation with whom we had worshiped two weeks ago, the one in Annapolis Royal.  The Canadians as a whole are a bit more reserved than Americans and Nova Scotians are even more so.  So, it is difficult to judge them as to being friendly or not friendly to visitors in worship.  We had a few people talk to us and several come to us during the passing of the peace to greet us. 

            The pastor does not greet people at the door after worship as we do in our church.  She retreats to the parlor where coffee and cakes were being served, giving an invitation to join her in there at the end of the worship service.  That may be their custom rather than the one we are accustomed to in our congregation.  We did not stay for the coffee time afterwards though, making an exit through the rear doors instead. 

            The service as a whole was very good and meaningful.  Doris and I knew all the hymns sung today although they sung some responses and the Lord’s Prayer to a tune we did not know.  The pastor read her text for her sermon, which was one of the parables of Jesus, and then did not preach on it.  Instead, she talked about looking at works of art as examples of parables.  She had two pictures of paintings projected on the wall in the sanctuary and used them as examples of art work that teach a lesson.  I was a bit disappointed that she did not preach on the scripture she read since I have preached on it and would have enjoyed hearing her interpretation of it.  Anyway, we enjoyed going to worship and felt uplifted by the experience as a whole. 

            As I said on an earlier Sunday, it is valuable for me to be a visitor in worship now and then so I can understand how someone who is new to a congregation feels.  I think it helps all of us to be the “new person” now and then in a social setting so we can understand the feelings of others and try to reach out to them when they are visiting in our church. 

            We had a rather quiet and restful day the remainder of our day.  The area around the wharf and the campground across from it was very quiet with no one visiting either area.  We sat on the porch a while and had coffee and cookies and finally went inside to prepare dinner.  It has been a very good Sabbath day. 

            “In returning and rest you shall be saved; in quietness and trust shall be your strength.”  (Isaiah 30:15b,c)

Sabbatical Journal, Days Twenty and Twenty-One

DAYS TWENTY AND TWENTY-ONE

            We took an excursion to Cape Breton Island which required spending a night away from the cottage.  Cape Breton Island is the northernmost part of Nova Scotia and since we are staying almost at the southern end of it then we had to drive about six hours to reach the area where we would spend the night.   Cape Breton Island is the Celtic center of Nova Scotia where the Scots and Irish settled when they came to Nova Scotia in the 1700s.  It is an island so there is a causeway that connects it to the rest of Nova Scotia. 

            So, on Friday morning we had breakfast and got ready and packed a few things for an overnight stay and began our drive.  Nova Scotia has a series of major roads that we Americans may think of as “freeways” but they are not freeways in the same sense as the roads for which we use this term.  There are stretches where the roads are four lane roads with higher speeds of 60-70 mph but suddenly those lanes will end and you will be driving on a two lane road with a top speed of 55 mph or less.  In addition, these major roads do not go everywhere around the province so to get across the mid-section of Nova Scotia one either has to get off on two lane slower traveled roads that are generally not in top condition or one has to stay on the freeway roads and go south nearly to Halifax and then double back and go north again ending up straight across from where the road went south that one just left.  We did both things on this trip and neither were satisfying, travel wise. 

            Anyway, we drove from about 9:30 a.m. to 3:00 p.m., taking times for gas stops, lunch, and other necessary stops and reached our motel in Whycocomagh (which is a First Nation word- people that we call Native Americans are called First Nation in Canada) to check in.  The clerk at the motel was very friendly and when she heard we planned on going to the Red Shoe Pub in Mabou that night to hear Celtic Music, she guided us into going instead to the town of Baddeck, just north of there to attend a Ceilidh (pronounced “kay-lee) that would begin at 7:30 instead of driving to Mabou in the rain around curvy roads for the music that would begin at 9 pm.  We thought that sounded better as we do not like to be up to midnight when the 9 pm show ended and we did not want to drive over the curvy road s in the rain and in the dark. 

            So, we changed our plans and had dinner at a local café called Charlene’s which could have the best seafood chowder anywhere, at least that is what we thought.  Then, we drove to Baddeck and found the parish hall of St. Michael’s Church where the ceilidh would take place.  The hall was beginning to fill up already so we found our seats inside and waited for it to begin. 

            Just prior to beginning time, a younger petite woman came in carrying a case that contained a fiddle and took it out to begin warming up.  Another woman about the same age came in and began to open up the top and front of an upright piano and sat down on a swivel stool and began to warm up also.  At the time to start, the woman who had seated us came forward and introduced the musicians and they began the program that would last for two hours. 

            A “Ceilidh” is a traditional Celtic musical party that features fiddle and piano playing tunes that have been created, shared, and handed down from one generation to the next for at least two centuries.  The tunes, many of which came from the British Isles, have been preserved by musicians and taught to one another.  The fiddler named Jennifer has been studying this type of music for at least 20 years.  The pianist named Susan began playing when she was a youth and has continued learning throughout her life.

            Much of the music was lively—reels and jigs---to which volunteers danced.  The musicians and the audience tapped their feet to the music to keep time.  Some of the music was slow and soulful, achingly beautiful, with a haunting melody.  Susan played a tune she made up in honor of her grandmother named Rose and it was very beautiful but it has never been recorded or written down for publication.  When we heard it, she was playing it from memory as her hands moved across the piano. 

            The concert was educational as well as beautiful to hear.  The pair explained much about the Celtic Music of Cape Breton Island and how it has been preserved free from many of the outside influences that shaped similar music that originates in the Appalachian Mountains in the USA.  There the music received additions from others living in their area that made the music what it is today while the Cape Breton Celtic Music is much more similar to music that originated in Scotland and Ireland, some of which is still played in those countries today. 

            The presenters answered questions from the audience and performed some step dancing, each dancing while the other played their instrument.  Both were very adept at dancing in the manner that we have seen in programs such as Riverdance.  They were very entertaining as well as informative. 

            The evening was very meaningful to Doris and me because we each have family connections to the British Isles.  My Carpenters and Cogswells (my grandmother’s maiden name) have their roots in England.  The Conways (another line) have connections to Ireland.  Doris has at least one line of her genealogy that has roots in the British Isles also.  I connect with the music on a level that speaks to me when I hear the slow melancholy tunes such as were performed last night.  It is as if I can hear the ancestors calling to me through the notes that compose the tunes. 

            We returned to our motel and had a good night’s sleep and then drove to Mabou over those curvy, hilly roads that we did not drive the night before.  The countryside is beautiful with hills looking over lakes and rivers.  At one point we spotted two bald eagles near a river we passed.  One was flying down toward the water with his claws extended as if he was going to catch something that was in or near the water.  The green hills rose up from the roadside to form the mountains around us and I told Doris that the pioneers who came here from Ireland and Scotland probably felt at home as it must resemble some place there. 

            We had breakfast at the Shining Waters Eatery in Mabou, delicious food that included porridge bread, a specialty of the house.  Sipping some great coffee as we waited for our food, I looked around the room at all of the people who bore some resemblance to the Irish and Scottish people who settled this area.  I observed a few people with red hair, many with light colored hair, facial features that remind me of people I have seen while traveling in the UK, having conversations about modern things but with a lilt or intonation in the voice that made me think that their ancestry is still alive in this generation. 

            As I looked around and listened to them talk, I felt a connection in this place too.  In this ordinary moment in life, something spoke to me that was spiritual in nature as well as sentimental in consideration of the past.  I felt as if I belonged, even though I live in a different country.  A connection existed that extends beyond time and place. 

            St. Paul sensed that there is a spiritual connection between many of us and that the Spirit unites us in ways that are mysterious and not fully understood.  We share something in common in the same way that we share genetics with others with whom we have an ancestral connection.  He wrote to Timothy and reminded him of the connection he had through his familial line. 

            “I am reminded of your sincere faith, a faith that lived first in your grandmother Lois and your mother Eunice and now, I am sure, lives in you.  For this reason I remind you to rekindle the gift of God that is within you through the laying on of my hands; for God did not give us a spirit of cowardice, but rather a spirit of power and of love and of self-discipline.”  (II Timothy 1:5-7)

Sabbatical Journal, Day Nineteen

DAY NINETEEN

            We are staying pretty close to the cottage today, spending a relatively quiet day.  We went into Annapolis Royal to use the internet at the public library.  I can bring my laptop computer and sit at one of their tables and use their internet without charge so I checked email and wrote a post for my blog. 

            Afterwards we drove up the road that leads to Granville Ferry.  It is a road that parallels the road that goes into Annapolis Royal for a while and then it bends away and follows the course of the Annapolis River which also runs through Annapolis Ferry.  Both communities are across the river from one another.  The historical guide for the tour we took recently told us that there was a ferry between the two places for many years and that is why it has the name.  Back in the 1800s a person could cross the river on a ferry for a penny.  If a person brought livestock with them on the ferry it cost an additional penny. 

            The road took us through the village of Granville Ferry which is a very nice community, with large houses lining the road.  It is interesting to note that there are two large white churches in the community and neither is being used as churches any longer.  One has been converted into a home and the other is being remodeled to become a museum or community center.   There is an Anglican Church still in use just beyond the community on that road but no others.  It may be that since the community is so near the larger town of Annapolis Ferry that the church goers drive the short distance and the churches there could not survive. 

            The road continued to a historic site called the Melanson Settlement which is where Acadian pioneers had built a village back in the 1600s and remained there until they were sent away by the British during the Expulsion in 1755.  The pioneers had reclaimed land near the river using dykes built to drain the land and rid it of the salt that was deposited by the Bay of Fundy.  The land had been given to New England Planters after the Expulsion and it remained in their families until the country of Canada had an archaeological dig on this land and found many historic relics that could be connected to the Acadians.  Today, there are information boards that give information about the Acadians who had lived there and trails to walk to see where the digs that happened in the 1980s took place. 

            Past the Melanson Settlement is Port Royal which is a historical re-enactment village that has been erected to demonstrate what life was like for the first persons who for France when he visited in 1605 and established a fort called Port Royal.  It is located where the Annapolis River pours into the Bay of Fundy.  The town of Annapolis Royal was the capital of Nova Scotia for many years until Halifax was given that honor.  Port Royal buildings are built to resemble the original ones that stood there and persons are in costume portraying persons who lived and worked at Port Royal at the time.  This area was always in dispute between the French and British until the British finally won out and Port Royal was renamed Fort Anne to honor Queen Anne of England.  We visited Port Royal in 2011 when we were here so we did not stop there today. 

            We continued driving on the road through several small communities until we reached the end of the road at Victoria Beach.  The name sounds as if it would be a nice place to walk around but actually it is just a beach covered with rocks that are exposed at low tide and covered with water otherwise.  We stopped and looked and then drove back to Annapolis Royal to find some lunch. 

            The afternoon was spent around our cottage reading and resting and visiting with our neighbor, who is a retired professor from Montreal.  She is an accomplished artist and took us into her studio to see some of her artwork, some of which is still being completed.  She is a widow and a bit of a recluse but she has taken a liking to Bo and she loves to pet him and talk to him.  She showed us through her garden which is the source for some of her inspiration for her artwork.  She paints many flowers and trees and includes wildlife found around Parker’s Cove in her paintings.  She gave us some lettuce and chives from her garden today for our evening meal.   She is a widow and since her husband died in the last two years she has not been as outgoing since she cared for him during the last years of his life and has been trying to be on her own since then.  She is a German by birth but has been a Canadian citizen for over forty years.  She is very educated and intelligent. 

            A few years ago I read the biography of Vincent van Gogh entitled, Lust for Life.  I was impressed with the language that was quoted that van Gogh used to describe the French countryside that he painted especially the land and sea in Provence.  He talked about how bright and brilliant the colors were, how they seemed alive and sometimes they were so brilliant that it was hard to contain how beautiful they appeared to him. 

            I have had that same experience several times this week when I have looked at the countryside in this area of Nova Scotia.  Driving on country roads or standing on a rocky beach looking out at the ocean, suddenly the color of the grass and the sky and the sea has been powerful to me.  I was standing with Doris talking to the neighbor at our nearest cottage and looked out over the bay just past the porch of our cottage.  The sun was shining brightly and the water looked especially blue to me.  The grass in my view between me and the sea looked a brilliant green and all at once I felt this powerful feeling of joy in simply being here and seeing this peaceful scene. 

            I felt the same feelings last Saturday as we drove down the Shore Road and saw the fields growing crops between the road and the bay.  The colors of sea, sky, and field were tremendous, rich in depth and stunning to look at.  It is difficult to describe just how it felt to see this rich beauty and to give thanks all at once for what I was seeing.  A great serenity seemed to fill my spirit at that time-- A deep peace for being in this place at this time with this gift of nature before me. 

            “It is good to give thanks to the Lord, to sing praises to your name, O Most High; to declare your steadfast love in the morning, and your faithfulness by night…How great are your works, O Lord! Your thoughts are very deep!” (Psalm 92:1-2, 5)

           

Sabbatical Journal, Day Eighteen

DAY EIGHTEEN

            When I awoke this morning and started the coffee maker to brew, I looked out the window facing the east to see the sky aglow with the most beautiful copper color hanging over Parker Mountain.  The sun had not risen above the mountain but the sky was beginning to brighten making the color of the sky copper and the bay blue.  We had coffee inside but then sat on the porch watching the sun rise in the sky until finally it was directly in front of us and too bright to keep in view. 

            Today was a day to do chores.  Washing needed to be done so we washed clothes here and took them to Digby to dry in the Laundromat there.  Before going to Digby, though, we stopped at the Wednesday Farmer’s Market in Annapolis Royal and bought some vegetables from a local farmer—green beans, Swiss chard, a butternut squash, and some fresh basil.  The market was alive with booths selling crafts, bread, and vegetables.  A man was playing the guitar and singing oldies that most people were singing along with.  Our dog Bo made a big impression once again and we made many friends who wanted to come up and pet him and talk to us about him. 

            Soon we were off to Digby to do the laundry but first we stopped at a roadside stand and bought fish and chips to have in the city park in Digby that is near the docks overlooking the bay.  There once was a seafood market with a restaurant that sold seafood dinners at the docks but it has closed.  The park is very pretty with hanging baskets containing flowers here and there.  A gazebo with a picnic table is in the park as well as other tables.  We took our lunch to the gazebo to eat and a stray yellow cat joined us.  I threw him a bite or fish now and then to get him to wander away from us so that Bo would not want to bark at him. 

            Using the dryers at the laundry is a fairly familiar chore and can be boring but we usually meet interesting people to talk with while we are drying the clothes.  Last week we met a German family that had immigrated to Nova Scotia a few years ago.  They spoke English well and we had a great conversation learning much about each other.  We also met a retired couple who lived in Nova Scotia in the summer but spent winters in South Carolina.  They were living in their camper while a new condo development was being built where they would soon spend their summers.  Today, there was a family from Ontario in the Laundromat while we were there but they did not seem to be in a talkative mood so we just dried and left soon. 

            Returning to our cottage we put away the clothes we had dried and sat on the porch with coffee and cookies looking at the bay.  It seems we never get tired of that view.  One never knows what one will see when you watch the birds flying back and forth.  This morning we saw a bald eagle sitting on the pier when we first went out after coffee time.  He sat there proudly for a while and then just flew away to a nearby tree and then vanished.  As we were looking for him in a tree using our binoculars, we saw a large brown bird in a neighboring tree and watched it closely until finally it flew into the harbor and began chasing other birds.  It was an osprey or hawk of some kind and was trying to catch a seagull or cormorant for breakfast.  Luckily for them, they all joined forces and began flying around in circles trying to distract him and he was never fast enough to catch one of them.  Two cormorants in the water ducked down just as he was swooping toward them in the water, avoiding being catch in his sharp claws.  He finally gave up and flew away to parts unknown.  Our afternoon bird watching was very mild with birds just lined up on the rocks having their siesta it seemed. 

            We decided to drive down Shore Road to a cove we had visited last Saturday named Hampden Cove.  Since it was low tide we thought we may find some rocks or shells that we could collect.  The beach on the cove was covered with rocks of every size but no shells.  It is not very good to walk on as there is no sand, only rocks everywhere, so walking on it takes some concentration if you do not want to fall.  We collected some rocks that looked different to take home with us.  We visited with a few others who were there doing the same things. 

            After we had dinner we sat on the porch and watched the sun go down.  The sunset tonight was really beautiful once again as it was yesterday.  The sky was aglow with orange and blue colors and the sun seemed to sink slowly into the bay.  It has been a very relaxing and satisfying day.  Even in the chores of everyday existence, meaning can be found in doing them as we seek it in those with whom we interact and the beauty of nature that is always present. 

            “Let them praise the name of the Lord, for his name is exalted; is glory above earth and heaven.” (Psalm 148:13)

           

Sabbatical Journal, Day Seventeen

DAY SEVENTEEN

            A day out and about today---traveling to what they call the South Shore in Nova Scotia.  That is the shore opposite the one where we are staying so we drove east on the main highway to the town of Middleton and then went south toward Bridgewater.  The road that bisects this portion of the Province between the two towns is wooded and it is becoming clearer daily that an early autumn is beginning here.  Hints of red and yellow are appearing in trees and we could see color in leaves of trees here and there as we drove along. 

            It was a pleasant drive south to Bridgewater.  We passed through many small communities, most of them with no businesses at all in them, only a sign to indicate that one was entering the community and then some houses and then on to the next one.  We drove to the community of New Germany, which is almost to Bridgewater, and found it interesting because it was in this area that 300 German immigrants came to Nova Scotia in 1750.  They actually landed in Lunenburg which is on the coast of the South Shore but they made their way inland and settled in the forest area where they could make their living in ways other than fishing.  Today, New Germany is a small community but there is one of the few Lutheran Churches outside of Halifax there with a cemetery containing the graves of German pioneers who arrived in Nova Scotia long ago. 

            There is a very nice and long lake surrounding New Germany also.  We stopped for a bit beside it as we entered the community and then rode along beside it for a good distance beyond the little town. 

            We soon entered Bridgewater, which is one of the larger towns in Nova Scotia.  It has many areas for shopping and a river running through the town that divides it into two sections.  There are two roads that run on either side of the river and one can choose one to drive beside the river.  We chose the river on the western side which runs beside the river and then the river empties into the Atlantic Ocean so one can drive beside water for many miles. 

            The road soon led us to the small community of La Have which famous for the La Have Bakery where we stopped and bought sandwiches, tea, and cookies to have for lunch.  We drove just a short distance down the road and found the Point Park Lighthouse and picnic area and enjoyed our lunch on land that had been claimed by the French in 1632 and they had established a fort there to protect their interests alongside the river that joins the ocean at that point.  We soon realized that we had been to this same place when we were in Nova Scotia in 2008.  There is a cannon by which I had my picture taken then so we took another one to compare it to when we get home. 

            Driving just down the road a bit more we found Crescent Beach and stopped off there to walk on the beach and get our feet into the Atlantic Ocean briefly.  This was the first time since we had owned Bo that he had been to a beach.  He walked down the beach with us as the waves came in getting his feet wet.  He stopped to smell various things in the sand and acted like he thoroughly enjoyed being there.  We collected some shells and driftwood and enjoyed the bright sunshine and the blue sky with white puffy clouds. 

            We continued down the road to Brooklyn and Liverpool, both quaint towns that resemble British ones in many ways, with well kept homes and decorative gardens.  Some of the streets bear British names and the Mersey River runs through them.   This same river begins north in the national park and is a slow, lazy small river but when it reaches the ocean at Liverpool it is wide and faster moving and is used by a power company to produce electricity. 

            Leaving Liverpool, we began the drive home again through largely forested areas that lead to small communities, some of which have only signs to let the visitor know it exists.  The road back to Annapolis Royal is long and not very exciting but it was a pleasant drive through the tree covered hilly landscape. 

            We always are glad to arrive back at our cottage in Parker’s Cove after exploring some of the area.  It is great to get comfortable and sit on the porch with some coffee and just stare at the bay in front of us, watching the seabirds doing their antics and the fishing boats bobbing up and down in the water at high tide. 

            I am thankful for the time to relax in such a beautiful place and reflect upon the goodness of God and the bounty of the earth displayed here.  Abundance is seen in the crops grown in the Annapolis Valley and the variety of fish and wildlife in this area, the work it provides for the local persons, and the food it supplies to those who want to enjoy it.  One can drive north and west and see farms growing crops of many kinds.  One can drive south and east and see the fishing industry at work in many ways.  Boats are constantly coming and going on the Bay of Fundy bringing in their catch to please locals and visitors and to be packaged for sale on the market. 

            The beauty of the earth is on display here and the result of human care and industry can be seen in so many ways.  It is truly a place that can soothe the soul and spirit. 

            “You make springs gush forth in the valleys; they flow between the hills…By the streams the birds of the air have their habitation; they sing among the branches, From your lofty abode you water the mountains; the earth is satisfied with the fruit of your work…O Lord, how manifold are our works!  In wisdom you have made them all.”

(Psalm 104:10, 12-13, 24a)