As we crossed over from New Brunswick into Nova Scotia, it occurred to me that my grandfather would have taken the same route 95 years earlier, in 1917. Ingram Jonas worked the railroads, and was travelling to Halifax when a munitions ship exploded accidentally.
Also I think of Laurie and Clare Gass, especially as we move under the bridge at Upper Stewiake.
I look at this and think that Old Glooscap has turned the tide backwards in the bay, but it return with the evening boar.
Once we arrived at the station in Halifax, it was a bit of a mish-mash. Harry and I caught the shuttle out to the airport to rent a car (no I don’t want a Chrysler 300, thank you very much) and then had to drive back into town to pick up the girls.
A very winding but pretty road out to Peggy’s Cove brought us to this:
And just now…
…let’s have that beer.
more later – joel