Random Bits o' Summer

My pal Wordgirl posted a lovely collection of thoughts about what summer means to her, and ended it with this question:  "What is summer to you?"

Herewith, a few random moments from the summer so far:

Summer is a time for barbeques, and Saturday night we had the kids all at home (rare enough) and I found some lovely slabs of cow to throw on the grill.

        At the dinner table, we discussed (as all families do) whether or not the baby in Erin's belly was a boy or a girl.  And if it were to come down the chute a boy, would they have him circumcised ...?  There was a spirited discussion of the pros and cons, and through it all, Allison was very quiet.  Finally, I asked what she thought.

She grimaced and said, "Personally, I don't even think guys look good in turtleneck sweaters."

I'm not sure anyone had an argument to follow that.

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Summer on my Island is tourist season, and although we're far from being tourists, we'll sometimes take part in the fun.

Last week we boarded a boat for a seal cruise.  This is one of the Island's real hidden gems - a lovely trip down one of the Island's great rivers and out into open water to watch seals in their natural environment.  On this particular cruise, there was some live entertainment.

It was what they call a Ceilidh Cruise (pronounced "Kay-Lee"), with my best friend, Gord Belsher, playing guitar and singing, and Allison adding some sweet Celtic fiddle music into the mix.  The guests on the boat had a wonderful time, drinking in the scenery and chowing down on some PEI Blue Mussels cooked right on the boat as the musicians played their hearts out.

Now, I'm not in any way hypercritical of musicians - I know my stuff when it comes to music, but I also know I can't play more than really bad drunken party guitar. So I generally keep my trap shut.  But early in the cruise, I could tell Allison was playing raggedly and with no real drive.  Since this was a night cruise and she'd worked a full day, I sidled up to the stage and asked if she wanted something - a soft drink, perhaps, or some crack cocaine - to sharpen her focus.

"It's not that," she said.  "Think about what is staring me in the face with every note I play."

Right.  She'd gotten engaged just two nights earlier, and the ring was still fascinating to her.

She kept on playing, and eventually settled into a groove, and the boat carried on down the river to the mouth.  At low tide, the harbour seals sun themselves on rocks.  But at high tide, they take advantage of a man-made raft.

These are Harbour Seals. great hulking brutes weighing up to 300 pounds each.  Still, there's a cuteness - not World Wildlife Federation anti-seal hunt poster cute, but cute nonetheless.

(Side note:  a friend of mine saw a bumper sticker on a car from Newfoundland, along the lines of "I ♥ German Shepherds".  Only this one said "I  ♣ Seals".  Even if it makes you cringe, you have to bow to the cleverness.)

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This past week, I debuted a stage adaptation of a new children's book.  The play, called "Maud and the Marco Polo", featured a sweet and talented 10-year old, Madeline Duffy, as a young Lucy Maud Montgomery, and told the story of the time the future author of "Anne of Green Gables" encountered the Captain of the Fastest Sailing Ship in the World.  The Marco Polo ran aground and ended her sailing days in 1883 in Cavendish, P.E.I., and Maud's family played host to the Captain of the ship, one Captain Bull.

Here Young Maud and Captain Bull share a quiet moment together.

For a play that went from conception to onstage in a period of less than a month, it was very well received.  Madeline was outstanding as Young Maud, and when I look at pics of me in costume, I wonder if i wasn't born in the wrong century.

Of course, every time I think that, one word leaps to mind:  "dentistry".  And I'm quite happy where I am, thanks.

Plus, I'm told there was no high-speed internet in those days.  So really - who could long for a simpler time?

This weekend, the performances were held up in Cavendish, not far from where the Marco Polo fetched up ashore.  To get there, I had to drive about a half hour north, through scenery like this:

This photo doesn't give you a real sense of how the fields cant and fall away and the terrain gently rolls, opening up wonderfully pastoral vistas with every twist and bend in the highway.

In 1998, I was interviewed by National Geographic for a pictorial essay on the Island (May 1998).  I said at the time "You'll be driving along and crest a hill, and there's this amazing postcard laid out ahead of you, and it gives you shivers.  We call it a 'viewgasm'".

I still feel that way.  And I'm not offput by the occasional summer traffic jam:

This was on the road to Cavendish, where on Saturday night, inside the National Park, they had a bonfire on the beach.  This doesn't sound unusual, I'm sure, but right now people from the Island are reading this and going "They had what WHERE????".

To say bonfires are unusual within PEI National Park is an understatement.  Normally, if you're caught with anything more volatile than a Bic lighter, you're looking at a hefty fine.  But in this case, the Parks Service itself had organized (and was tightly supervising), the bonfire as part of the Lucy Maud Montgomery Festival.

Madeline and I had been invited to tell the story of the Marco Polo on the cliffs overlooking her final resting place.  It's one of my favourite places on the Island. 

The red cliffs - like the red soil of the Island - are a signature look.  It's true sandstone - grab a chunk of rock from that cliff behind me and you can crush it with your hand and turn it into fine dust.

Just around sunset, a lone piper called everyone's attention to the start of the evening's program:

It was a gorgeous summer evening, and it felt right to tell the story of that adventure so close to where it actually happened.

So what does summer mean to me?  Well, winters can be harsh on this Island.  Not the kind of harsh you get on the prairies, where it's 40 below for weeks at a time and you have to go out and chip your dog off the hydrant.  But certainly harsh enough so that we all withdraw into our homes and wait for spring - which feels like it takes forever to come.

There are few tourists, so a lot of things close up for the winter.  The population of the Island is 135,000 or so, not enough to support a lot of fine dining and theatre and grand spectacles, so during the winter it's ... quiet.  Very quiet.

But in summer, the population swells - close to a million visitors some years, and that means restaurants and concerts and theatre and all sorts of events.  Two months to see and do everything you can't do for the rest of the year.

Oh ... and two months to get ready for the next time winter shows up:

The orderly stack represents about 2 1/2 hours of work in what for us is blazing heat.  It is probably about 3/4 of a cord.  Nine more to go.  Summer means work. 

But it's a nice kind of work.  And when I look at this picture, I think "There's one whole month of cozy warm ...".

Then I slap a mosquito on my arm, wipe a trickle of sweat away, and get back to stacking ...

Comments

[twisted uterus]

Oh how I want to come visit your island...still working on it...sadly not for the big Agriculture celebration.

nice cow jam picture!

[Bucky Four-Eyes]

I'm not much on going on boats, but to go watch seals, I think I'd brave it!

[Jean]

Amazing entry, Nils. Perhaps you should see Valerie about joining the Tourism department. This is the best promotion of PEI I have seen in a very long time. It makes me want to visit and I live here!

[William]

To live where you live must be awesome. I also like the look you have going there in your "costume?"

[wordgirl]

What a great post! I have a good friend who is an artist here in town. He's from Iowa and the hills and rolls of hay are some of his signature scenes on canvas. The day on the ferry sounds charming.

[Ern]

That WAS some fast work on that play! I'm glad it was so well-received. (And William's right, the hat is very jaunty.)

It looks beautiful there in the summer. And redrock! I thought the Southwest deserts had the corner on that commodity! Here, we are holed up in our houses, waiting for fall.

[sheryl]

Aren't you the image of dashing in that outfit!

I was too distracted by your handsomeness to read. Or maybe it's my ADD :)

[platypus]

Well, I don't know, we wait for ages for a post and then you turn out something like that. Beautiful pictures of the island, Seals, Allie's lovely engagement ring and you all done out in period costume.

I don't envy you the wood stacking but everything else looks and sounds idyllic.

[kalki]

All aboard, Captain.

[eclectic]

Sounds and looks dreamy. Congrats on the successful production! Now... get to work on that wood, eh?

[CircusKelli]

Wait... they have hydrants on the prairies?

(Oh, and you'll be happy to know I'm not commenting AT ALL on the "you were born in WHAT century" line)

And all feisty snarkiness aside... that is some really lovely, lovely homeland you have there, Mr. Ling. You do look rather dapper in your Captain Bull garb.

Thank you for your "word tour" of Summer in PEI! :)

[The Kept Woman]

Wait.

You really DO have cow traffic jams?

I'm totally jealous.

P.S. Summer is a time to stress out about winter being right around the corner for me...I'm telling you...I have issues.