Cape Breton Welcomes

Little Lorraine: "Proud in Spirit & Strong of Heart"

First it was Brenda, our mail lady."You must be Mr. Finch!"

"Oh, yeah, how did you know that?" "Well, I've not seen you before."

She was putting mail into the Little Lorraine community mailbox, and she was right, of course.

Next up came Darlene as we entered the Louisbourg Library and opened our mouths. "You must be Peter & Gundi!" "Yes, how did you know?" "I was told to listen out for your accents." Wayne and Lorlee, who we had bought our house from, had told her that we were coming from Ontario but hailed from further afield. It's a fair cop.

Sun going down over the fireweed

And then, the other evening, as I was loping languidly down the gravel road towards the wharf, looking for another of those dusk vistas to photograph, I heard a car crunching slowly towards me. I stepped aside and the driver rolled down his window. "You must be Peter!" "Yes, but how did you know?" "I've seen you on the Facebook." Guilty, as charged. Jackie MacDonald was heading down "to go mackereling" from his brother Burt's dock. A bumper lobster season now behind them, fishermen around here are turning to halibut and mackerel for their catch, sometimes just for supper.

These curious welcomes come on the heel of several acts of kindness from neighbours. Wayne and Lorlee left us the ultimate manual for the house. A mathematical engineer with attention to the minutest detail in unison with a hostess with a flair for writing combined to make moving into our new surroundings smooth and effortless. To an un-handyman like myself, this has been a true boon. Just consult 'Gundi and Peter's Guide Book.' At the tail-end of winter, as we faced a long wait for our furniture to arrive via movers from Ontario, Lisa and Derek drove around from across the cove with a table, two chairs, two glasses, and a bottle of wine. Sweet! When I delivered them back a few weeks later (minus the wine, of course), Derek joked that he would be able to drink again. Our close neighbours Terry and Natasha wouldn't take any money for our first feed of six lobsters and have been reliable suppliers ever since. On the last day of lobster season, Fraser, who, we are pleased, has just bought the 44-acre plot of land beside us, gifted us six lobsters, thanking us for putting up with the sound of the boats leaving the cove daily at 4 am.  (We actually loved this reassuring routine and miss it now that it has gone quiet).

A House with a View (not ours)

Four months into our new life adventure, summer is here, and it is the ocean that gets our mornings rolling by welcoming us into her fullsome fresh salty embrace.

The Oceanside Sward

The lawn we adopted has bloomed rapidly into a wildflower sward. Various shades of grasses have been joined by oranges and lemons, pinks and purples, whites and reds - asters, bedstraw, buttercups, campions, chamomile, clovers, columbines, dandelions,daisies, devil's paintbrush, eyebright, forget-me-nots, irises, lady's thumbs, strawberries, violets, vipers bygloss, yarrow, to name but a few.... and that is just in the grass. Unmown, left to be, they are growing out in profusion, waiting for the sun to provide the spark for a riot of colour and texture. They have all blown in here on the wind, on their own terms; none were planted on a human whim from a packet or introduced from away. They have chosen this place in order to germinate; this place has chosen to birth them.

A new occupation here will be observing, cataloguing, and selectively harvesting, wildcrafting the abundantly diverse vegetation that only Nature curates. There is, after all, endless choice in the sea greens, berries, herbs, flowers, leaves, roots, barks, fungi that have taken up home all around us here. In their wildness lies the essence of strength and resilience; herein lies concentrated energy, flavour, and nutrition. Theirs is true essential living. Immersed in this vibrant environment, swept clean by the elemental rain and fog, sun and wind, I too find my true home, in a similar climate to that of my island forebears.

An Open Sea

An Open Sea

We look out on an open sea,

a sea of charm, a sea of scorn,

a sea of life, a sea of death,

a sea that rises above the judgements of men.

We live facing an open sea,

a sea that lives in days, as it lives in nights,

a sea that lives in seasons, as it lives in years,

a sea that lives beyond time, in all eternities.

We die facing an open sea,

a sea that rages, a sea that roars,

a sea that is placid, a sea that is playful,

a sea that swirls, and ebbs, and flows, forever.

We are reborn by an open sea,

a sea that turns us mineral, as it turns us vegetable,

a sea that turns us animal, as it turns us green,

a sea that creates, a sea that destroys all that it touches.

There is an open sea, beyond you and me,

a sea that sculpts, a sea that paints,

a sea that fogs, a sea that blinds,

an open sea, at home with the sun, the moon, and the stars.

We Live Here - Cape Breton, Nova Scotia!

We, Peter and Gundi, have moved to Cape Breton Island, Nova Scotia, on about the easternmost coast of mainland Canada. Our house is perched 30 feet above sea level and 150 feet from the sea, in the picturesque maritime cove of Little Lorraine. 

"Now why exactly would we make this move", (as one person pondered)? Exactly because we fell in love with this property and location as soon as we laid eyes on it. We have long wanted to live beside an ocean that is wild, scenic, pristine, and wondrous. We cannot afford to do this on the west coast of Canada and we are not ready to trade this country for another as home. When we visited last October, we were immediately enchanted by the varied land- and sea-scapes, the friendly welcome from locals, the rich choice of seafoods, and, yes, the 'out there' nature of living detached from the busy world of people, yet belonging to a community of way less than a hundred people. "Won't you be isolated?" No, not really. We are eight kilometres from the nearest large village (as we were before), and half an hour's drive to the nearest large town (again, as we were before). We are within 45 minutes of an airport, right on the ocean, with a thriving local food and farming market easily accessible (online or by weekly pick-up). Family and friends have been overwhelmingly supportive of our move, expressing admiration for our boldness, sense of adventure, and wishing us the best. An element of envy exists, but most show their better nature by being genuinely happy for us.

This move came about very fast as we sounded out the saleability of our farm property in the Northumberland Hills of southern Ontario. We began by advertising Rolling Hills Organics as a farm and business. Seeing strong interest at the advertised price, from two parties in particular, we made a four-day visit to Cape Breton, touring the Cabot Trail in all its Fall colour and glory, and visiting our chosen property. We returned home and made an offer conditional on selling the farm. This offer was accepted! With no firm buyer, we opted to put the farm on the open market, through a real estate agent specializing in selling farm properties to Toronto buyers. Within three weeks, the farm was sold, firm, just before we departed for twelve weeks of winter break on Lake Atitlan in Guatemala. All this happened at breakneck speed. With constant developments, it was hard to keep up with apprising family, friends, colleagues, and customers. Some were miffed not to be the first to hear, or to hear second-hand, or, worse, through the grapevine. We left for Guatemala before Christmas as arranged well in advance of planning to move. We did so with a firm closing date of mid-April for both sale and purchase. We returned home at the beginning of March with six weeks to pack up the household, farm, and glass art studio, and to organize financing, moving, transfer of accounts.

We sounded out the move because we are at the stage of life where we need to downsize and plan for the next chapter while we are still active, mobile, energized, adventurous, and in good health. If I am no longer farming, I do not need a farm property with all its physical demands and upkeep. Importantly, with a strong market demand from Toronto and vicinity, the time is right to sell at a good price. And the time is right to buy at way less than half the sales price in Nova Scotia. Plus, we are following good friends who have made this move ahead of us, and they are all loving their new lease of life on the east coast.

So, Rolling Hills Organics is no more. I will miss the camaraderie of farmers market customers, vendors, and staff. It remains my fervent hope that the pure land that I farmed organically for twenty years will continue to be chemical- free, as it always has been. The new owners seem to be very conscientious in willing it so. They plan on having a pony, chickens, and an apple orchard. A neighbour surfaced over the winter wanting to take on the organic farming, either at our farm or by converting his own family conventional (chemicalized) farm. Jason took on all my seeds, catalogues, and a lot of farm and market tools and equipment. I am flattered that he wants to grow the same salad green blends as I did, marketing them as "Peter's Greens". It may take him a while to get up and running as there is a lot to learn, but I wish Jason, and the farm's new owners, all the best.

Here in Little Lorraine, we are pinching ourselves at our good fortune in finding our dream home on the ocean. The land and sea scapes are constantly changing with the weather and light. I look forward to many years of looking out over the cove, out to the open Atlantic Ocean. We want to explore this wild, rugged coastline, the rocky shores, and the manifold beauty of Cape Breton. This afternoon on this glorious sunny day, we went off on a walk to explore the heralded Gooseberry Cove, brimming with anticipation. And the views exceeded expectations. This is classic, open, wild Atlantic coastline with bold headlands, rocky shore, sheltered coves, and clear waters. The sun danced on a sea pulsing with sound, energy and light.