The fog lifts in Peggy’s Cove

The fog lifts in Peggy’s Cove

We arose before the sun because we wanted to catch the first rays of sunlight on the Peggy’s Cove lighthouse and rocks. We threw on clothes, grabbed the camera gear, headed out and we arrived at Peggy’s Cove before sunrise! But…Mother Nature is something to be prepared for and never counted upon. This morning she had decided to throw us a curve: the fog was so thick that we couldn’t see more that a few feet in front of us. This was low beams-only driving, trying to get enough light to see far enough ahead to stay on the road, but not throwing too much that would merely be reflected uselessly back at us.

We cautiously drove the narrow road through the village up to the lighthouse. There were wisps of clarity as the morning breeze pushed waves of whiteness around us, but when we got to the top of the hill, nothing. Complete whiteout. Staring where we knew the lighthouse to stand, we could occasionally make out a hint of a silhouette.

We were alone. All was still. No one in the village was yet stirring and none of the summer hordes of tourists had yet descended. Faint cries of seagulls, sounds of waves lapping against rocks, all muffled by the dense air. We knew where the ocean was, yet couldn’t see it.

We parked the car and headed down to the harbour to see if the fog would lend itself to any interesting shots of fishing boats and buildings — while Peggy’s Cove is a popular tourist attraction, it is also a working fishing village. By the time we reached the harbour, we could see hints of the scenic little village as the fog began to slowly lift.

We didn’t get the golden light of magic hour, but we did get light that was magical in its own way. As the invisible sun continued to rise, the day got brighter and brighter and more continued to emerge from the whiteness. An hour and a half later, a few other photographers joined us, but they had missed the best of the fog. About an hour after that, the first tour bus arrived. An hour later, our single car in the parking lot was lonely no more — the lot was full. At this point, the fog had long since completely lifted to reveal a rather plain and grey morning, if any time along the ocean can ever be considered plain.

As we left, we drove by a constant stream of cars driving into the village.


 
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