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(note – I wrote this entry on day 15 but just realized I had left it unpublished on my laptop…sorry for the delay in sharing)

I posed the question on facebook to my friends – “When is it okay to complain about the weather?” I know that there is no “bad weather” in photography, but day after day of rain, fog and the accompanying gloomy skies over the stunning landscape of Canada can get old. My intention was to capture some of those gorgeous sunrises – after all, I am hugging the Atlantic coastline. But I awoke each morning to that wall of fog out my window, dashing my plans.  This photo of the beautiful Mahone Bay is so typical of the entire week so far (hint – there is a boat out there):

On Saturday after breakfast the workshop ended and participants hugged and promised to stay in touch, then scattered to further trips (Lise to PEI, Marjan to NYC) or home. I loaded my car and checked out quickly, but lingered a bit in Lunenburg to capture a few shots of the town.  I hadn’t spent as much time as I would have liked to explore Lunenburg, always hoping for that miraculous sunny day to appear to lend a happy mood, but I was departing and this was my last chance.

Soon I was on my way to Cape Breton Island. I took the highway and enjoyed seeing the color patterns created by the darker spruce trees mixed with the bright spring green of newly opened deciduous tree leaves. With only the forests to entertain me until crossing the causeway over to the island, I pressed on to get to my B&B on the Cabot Trail at a decent time. I did “have to” stop to photograph this brightly painted home on the Bras d’Or Lake and the Kidston Island Lighthouse in Baddeck where I stopped for a rushed dinner. I’ve seen some stunning photographs of this lighthouse but the light was not in my favor on this evening. Pamela’s B&B was everything I expected, with the hostess (um… Pamela) casually chatting with me about my trip, welcoming me to sit in the sitting room or dining area to get better wi-fi service, and a lovely breakfast of eggs the way I like them after a comfortable night sleeping in a daughter’s former bedroom.

I actually enjoyed the soft fog of Sunday. I stopped numerous times to take photos on my short drive to the Keltic Lodge in Ingonish. I arrived at the lodge relatively early, took photos, checked in, and decided to continue further along the Cabot Trail to Neil’s Harbor since the next day I had a longer drive. I am so glad that I did! Because it was Sunday, all the fishing vessels were moored at the dock and easy subjects for photographs. And then a “miraculous” thing happened – after spending a good few hours enjoying the harbor and taking photos, the fog lifted, and in an instant the sky was blue. I rushed around trying to remember my favorite shots and tried to take the same photos with sunshine! Basking in my luck I went a little further along the coastal road to New Haven, but soon had to turn back to the Lodge for dinner and the promise of live entertainment in the lounge. I enjoyed the live performance of Buddy MacDonald. Of course that was his name – I can’t tell you how many “MacDonald” trails, roads, drives, stores, mailboxes, and more that I saw on Cape Breton Island.

Bright and early Monday morning I headed back to Neil’s Harbour but what a change – EVERY fishing vessel was gone!   As I pushed onward past beautiful (but overcast) coastal views I spotted those fishing vessels tending to their lobster pots. In one little cove I saw four boats and then I noticed just how many different colored buoys marking the pots were bobbing up and down with the gentle waves. I took back roads to enjoy those coast views, and half regretted it – Nova Scotia’s roads in spring are laced with potholes, a tribute to a long hard winter. The potholes plus patterns of repairs were mesmerizing, as well as constantly distracting from the views. While I stopped frequently to enjoy views and take photos, the photos just do not do the area justice – how I wished for a little light on the gloomy yet beautiful landscape.

I left the Cabot Trail to continue out to Bay Saint Lawrence Road and made many stops to enjoy the fishing horbors. My timing was great – the fishing vessels were arriving from a busy morning and lobsters were being passed to transport agents on shore who would then deliver them to restaurants or the lobster pound. I continued onto Meat Cove Road, rounding the northern and eastern-most peninsula of Nova Scotia. I got out of my car to scout a photo opportunity in an area called Capstick, and debated whether I should continue onto a dirt road that lead to the end point of Meat Cove. The tourist literature stated it was “interesting”, but no more, and the 5 kilometer drive on the dirt road was making me rethink my plans. I put my camera back in the camera bag and closed the car door….on my right thumb! OUCH! When I regained my wits I turned around, making my way back to the Cabot Trail, wholly aware of the handicap this damaged throbbing thumb placed on things like turning the ignition, pulling closed zippers, lifting and gripping my camera tightly, getting credit cards out of my wallet….

Then the thrill arrived – steep climbs up tall mountains of spruce trees, every twist and turn evoking an exclamation of wonder. These were the Highlands for which Cape Breton is known, and still spectacular even when shrouded in dismal damp overcast skies. The road offered many views onto the gorgeous curving coastline. Just a little peak of sun please to light up the scenery? Not going to happen.

My destination this evening was Cheticamp, a small fishing village known as one of the Acadian capitals of the world. From my earlier research I was expecting lively musical entertainment at multiple venues, but soon discovered I was about a week too early. Seems the wet cold winter had moved things back this year and I didn’t find a single musician practicing his craft. I did sample some Acadian cuisine at Le Gabriel: Fricot (soup made with pieces chicken which had been fried before adding them to diced potatoes, onions, etc) and Poutine (fries smothered in cheese and gravy) along with fresh fish. I was safely checked into my B&B room and relaxing when I looked outside and saw the slightest hint of color in the sky. I quickly rushed to the car with my gear and headed to the waterfront, determined to get a sunset photo. I took the first photo and had put my camera and tripod back into my car to rush to another location when deja – vu – I closed the car door on the exact same thumb! Now this brought tears to my eyes, and the pain soared from my thumb to my elbow to my shoulder as I wanted to scream. The pain of this second slam in the same day (about 6 hours apart) was about 10x the first. This time my the thumb was crushed at a 90 degree angle to the first slam, and so the whole of the thumb, not just the nail, was turning black. I knew to be careful from that point – I feared the fingers were next if I didn’t change this new pattern for closing car doors!

The next morning I left Cheticamp very early and drove out of Nova Scotia into New Brunswick.