A couple of years ago, my friend Darby and I took a trip to the village of Saint Andrews, Canada. Darby had done a solo trip up there a year or two before, and wanted to return for some R&R. We spent a long fall weekend at a cottage right on the water within the village. The cottage had two bedrooms, a kitchen and common room and a big deck that hung out over the water. The village of Saint Andrews is touristy, but it was the off season and the rates were good. I found it and the people delightful.
The weather was spectacular - warm and sunny, but cool at night. We walked, talked, went sightseeing, hung out at the beaches, wrote, read, dined - everything two old farts might dream of doing during a respite from the daily chores and work of life at home, albeit it a beautiful home.
From our deck we witnessed the goings on in a working harbor of fishing boats. At low tide we could walk down below on the rocks, sand and seaweed. At high, it lapped underneath us. I had never seen a tide so severe - it move uncomfortably fast in and out. I found myself on constant watch - one eye was always glued to the tide.
We took a side trip to Campobello before re-entering the US. I'd never been to Campobello. It was like being transported to another time. But that's another story. On this hazy morning ferry ride between Saint Andrews and Campobello over the Bay of Fundy, we passed Cherry Island. In that light I thought it was beautiful.
Cherry Island • 8" X 8" acrylic framed to 12" X 12" • $200
