Lunenburg, Nova Scotia, Canada
From Jewel's perspective
I've always loved the intimacy of this town, how I can stroll alongside the port, and see all the fishermen that have fed me my whole life. They wave at me furiously, gaps in their mouth but happiness in their eyes. I watch the sparkling fish emerge from the sapphire waters into nets and know I'll see them for dinner at Rose's cafe tonight. Past the pale sails of the fishing boats, the greenery of the land still takes my breath away. It's quiet, like Lunenburg often is, but buzzes with the presence of humans, living their lives quietly alongside the coast, as to not interrupt nature. It is so much the opposite of cities like Boston, where humans have taken over their habitat and all you hear is traffic and roaring. The shore that dips down to the shore a couple hundred feet away from me echoes the cries of seagulls. I spread out my blanket on the sand and put down the basket I've brought along. A small group of tourists have made camp not far from me and are sitting there quietly, in awe of the whaling tours taking place about three kilometers out in the water. At night, the water turns opal, but if it's quiet enough, you can hear the groans of the whales, reigning over their kingdoms.
But right now, the town behind me is alive with people running errands, shopping, and awakening to the bluest sky on the peninsula. We jut out just enough to dip our toes in water and be enclosed by the neighboring islands. The soft roar of the waves beginning to build cruise in motion to the boats taking off from shore, on another fishing expedition. I remind myself to stop by the market and pick up Rose's daily orders for the cafe. Her bistro is the most frequented restaurant in the town for its homey food and warm environment. Plus, Rose just feels like home, like the grandmother waiting for you with a hot meal. I smile at the thought, and my eyes catch the vibrant colors of all the cottages along the shore. I know every single family in them, and the history of their ancestry. But Lunenburg has never been a small town. We value the privacy of being on the edge of North America and keep to ourselves. There is no bad blood here, and no gossip to drive us against each other.
I realize the sun is quickly ascending back into the sky, a faint violet lining the horizon to announce its departure. I sink my toes into the moist sand one last time and stand up to stretch. My picnic will have to wait for lunch.