Mira River, Nova Scotia

Sunday, August 30, 2009

Even with noise canceling headphones on it was tough to sleep. Torrents of rain battered the Casita. Not quite as bad as a tin roof but loud nonetheless. The vent on the roof started leaking sometime in the wee hours. I had to get up and put a cooking pot on the floor to catch the drips that fell from the ceiling. Then there was the wind. Every so often a gust would hit us broadside and rock us pretty good. Carol, on the other hand, slept through the night like a baby. “Oh.” She exclaimed while rubbing the sleep from her eyes, “Did it rain last night?”
Fortunately, by morning the worst was over, only a light drizzle remained. There was not much to do but stay put, read, drink tea and wait it out. By early afternoon, all traces of the storm had passed and the sun broke through. It was still a bit chilly but we took advantage of the changing weather to get out and ride the bikes around. The campground is located on a promontory so it is surrounded on three sides by water, with numerous hiking and biking trails slicing through the wooded areas. Under better circumstances this might have been the best provincial park we had thus far encountered. Due to inclement weather, I never got a chance to get the boat out or do any swimming, however, I'm going to file this park away for possible future reference.
Anyway, we had a great ride through the woods. At one point we were escorted down the trail by a very friendly little bat. It seemed like he wanted us to follow him because he flew directly in front of us at eye level, then would fly ahead and wait for us to catch up. Once we closed the gap he would fly off again and wiggle his wings in a manner almost suggesting “Hey. Come on now. Follow me.”
Back in the Casita we had our afternoon tea and crackers. Later we took our customary stroll through the now completely deserted campground. It felt as if we were on a movie set playing the part of the witless couple oblivious to the surging tsunami or the imminent arrival of a gigantic meteorite that everyone else knows about and had wisely fled. However, that notion quickly passed as we walked down to the river and sat on the picnic bench to watch the sun drip through the vermilion clouds as it made its way down under.