|"our" beach in Seaforth NS|
(We live in the old parish rectory, next to the church, right across from the community hall cum old school house , on land that was once the oldest farm in the settlement: basically in the centre of the tiny village.)
Growing up, the place was totally obscure, even to Nova Scotians.
But one day in the late 1906, some guys in a beat-up VW with Colorado plates came up to me and my brother Bruce and asked the way to the surf.
We tried to point the way - back past Colorado - towards California and Hawaii.
But no, the boys pointed to the big waves in front of our house - how to get down to them.
Our omnipresent big waves - a perennial aspect of our Seaforth we could never stop hearing and seeing - turned out to be what others called "surf".
So for the last 40 years we are a place of pilgrimage for surfers from all over. And an nearby newspeg for lazy reporters seeking an easy sidebar on an upcoming hurricane threat : 'but won't the waves be totally, totally awesome ?!'
Then , more recently, Hope Swinimer came to our village and opened a volunteer-run place to save the lives of injured wildlife.
Cue even more reporters to report on cute (wild) animal alerts.
2000 people came out to Seaforth , to enjoy the Hope for Wildlife open house last week. (Star-of-the-show was a 3 legged skunk called Maxwell.)
We never had skunks in Seaforth till recently: credit global warming...
We got lots of surfers at "our" beach, right in front of the bench where I wrote this paragraph yesterday - thanks to a cover story in the day's local newspaper.
As for skunks -well a family of them lives in my field about 20 metres away from where I write.....