How was your summer? A question we’re often asked. Usually harmless, but now, in Covid times, I feel guilty answering, it was good, I enjoyed the isolation while it lasted. One is not supposed to enjoy isolation. It’s different when you have a view, trails to walk, woods full of animals and birds. It’s hard to believe the world outside this retreat is full of fear, restrictions, suspicions, recriminations. During this period of limited contact, we received the sad news that Kathleen’s father died of Corona virus in a nursing home in Halifax. Kathleen wasn’t allowed to gather with her family for a service, though weeks later she and her siblings made a trip together to relive important memories.
I thought it might be a good time to start some projects. I took nature photographs and wrote about my photographs. I created nature identification cards. Worked outdoors, creating trails, building boxes for the garden, planted the garden. I read books and researched subjects related to natural history. Kathleen tried her hand at painting and surprised many with her playful, exuberant images.
Then the restrictions lifted a little. An artist-in-residence, Micha Edelstein, brightened our days at the centre. We heard daily reports of an innovative school Micha was redesigning, rebuilding, expanding. We were joined by a student apprentice, Ogen Newcomb. Ogen helped Micha with the school, and trained hours every day, running, stretching, biking, helping with the garden and exploring the local area. We had a volunteer managing the site, Jay Heffernan. He helped us in a hundred ways, made repairs, organized spaces and expanded our media efforts. Each of these–artist, student, volunteer–had special voices, unique gifts. I feel grateful for their contributions, though I feel I’m still digesting the lessons. We also had visitors, workmen and planners hired to help us move forward toward future goals.
We met our neighbour Shanna, a biologist who works for the environmental group, Coastal Action. Her group were hired by the town of Chester to test the water in the cove and around nearby islands for bacteria and other substances. We happily allowed Shanna to use our dock to launch her boat. The information gathered from her tests is shared with all the neighbours and local politicians, and it’s fascinating and heartening to see these folks work together to secure a clean and safe waterway in the area.
This summer wasn’t all work. Exercise and exploring are important to me and I often combine the two in bike rides. We’re fortunate to have the centre located beside one of the most varied and scenic bike trails in Nova Scotia, the trail from Chester to Mahone Bay and Lunenburg. Micha, Ogen and Jay, all joined in on these rides, as did Kathleen and other friends, and friends of friends. It’s more fun when there’s a gang. For one ride, we took the ferry to Big Tancock and toured the Island. The ferry ride takes an hour each way and offers a close-up view of many of the islands and points of interest in Mahone Bay.
We had a visit from our mentor Nigel Thornley and his wife Marlie, along with friends, Geoff and Faye Singleton. Kathleen asked them to describe a memory of nature when they were young. They were eager to share stories, growing up in England, sighting icebergs, saving puffins in Newfoundland and wild animal encounters in Ontario.
We enjoyed visits from Board members and artists, Alex Livingston and Heather Macleod, retired minister Curtis Macdonald and his wife Bev, and from Margaret Swain, a key member of our Foundation, retired principal, world traveller (on hold at the moment) and extraordinary community volunteer. We had a visit from a couple attending a college reunion. They brought deer meat from one of their children and vegetables from their garden. A neighbour dropped by, an athlete, I thought he might not fit in. Turns out, his parents and the parents of the university couple had been refugees in Europe, escaping communism, coming to Canada for a fresh start. They understood each other immediately. We served dinner. A woman with two precocious pre-teens was there. I worried we’d never be able to entertain these energetic children. They were happy to run outside, to be on their own in such a wide open space. But within minutes they were back, urging us to come look at the sky. Something unusual was happening. Flashes of light. Darkness. More flashes illuminating the tops of trees and low hanging clouds. Lightning. Distant rumbles. We brought out chairs and watched the sky. Then the rain poured down and we all ran for cover.