I used to be under the impression that Dartmouth was full of shadowy characters and Halifax was where the golden children lived, but lately I've gotten to know Dartmouth much better and my harbour hopping head is being drawn to the eastern shore. Amazingly, there's more to Dartmouth than just the MicMac Mall and the Trailer Park Idiots.
Yesterday I was introduced to one of Dartmouth's legendary walking/biking paths. It was called the Lake Charles trail, part of Shubie Park. Shubie Park is a small, yet impressive part of the much larger Shubenacadie Canal waterway, about which I was being schooled.
It was a spectacular day for a field trip. A brilliant blue blanket overhead was punctuated by the occasional wispy loon feather cloud. It was warm and windless...a perfect Indian summer day, though the calendar said November 9. November is the time of year when long underwear starts to become appealing again, though its luster never really fades for some of us. It had snowed just three days prior, so this was an afternoon to be bewitched by the weather.
As we passed through the wooded trail the odd leaf would fall, though the vast majority had already gravitated to the chaotic tapestry of the forest floor. On our right was Lake Charles; clean, clear, with a fringe of jagged glacial fragments. It was one of those days that made you think 'city life isn't so bad...I could do this'.
Later in the day, after the sun went down, I drove past one of Dartmouth's finer restaurants. It went by the curious name of Hooters. Then I drove past a sign that offered 'pole dancing' lessons. Hmmm.
Could I live in Dartmouth?
All I can say is "this place is wicked!"
My reaction is open to interpretation. Some restrictions apply. See Ian for details.
It is time for you to come home to Cambridge- Narrows Ian. In the opera "The Rake's Progress"( see Nov 5) Tom Rakewell is lured away to the big city to a life of debauchery only to die in an insane asylum. Take note and stay away from poles and pubs.
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