POINT PRIM

There is nothing like a walk along water's edge to settle the mind. 

Despite the 7 km from Digby, out along Lighthouse Road,

  it still remains sentimentally wild out at that point of land where North Mountain dips into the Bay of Fundy.  There is always a cobweb-clearing breeze at Point Prim. Yesterday was no exception.

I planned to buy a fish and chip supper and take it for a picnic where there are cliffs and a lighthouse to walk around. The view from there is rather extensive – on a clear day, I can look across the Bay of Fundy to see  New Brunswick, but that province did not hove into view. It happens. It's all due to light refraction. On this summer evening, it was just the wind,  the rocks,  the sky,and the big, blue sea. 

 

I was afforded a magnificent view up the Bay of Fundy. It was so clear and bright, I was sure I could see almost as far as Truro. I know I couldn't.  I know that is impossible. The power of long views is that our minds can imagine the places at the other end. And that's what I like to do – imagine the distance. 

Point Prim gently slopes into the Bay of Fundy. Tidal pools form in the eroded bowls in the rock platform. They are home to small sea creatures and plants that seem to enjoy dunking in cold, salty water twice a day.  

Typical of this area, Point Prim has a rocky beach. It is basically inaccessible except for those who like to scamper down steep inclines. This view, looking towards Digby Gut, lets you see the steepness of the cliff edge at the beach. It also shows Victoria Beach, the village on the eastern side of Digby Gut, where the houses clamber and clamp onto the steep, rocky side of the east side of the North Mountain.

The North Mountain, off which Point Prim is located, is mainly basalt rock, probably the most common rock in the world. Because it has volcanic origins, at Point Prim amygdules, rings of sparkling minerals, mark the spots at which gas bubbles were trapped in the lava flows. This rusty post seems to emphasise the copper-coloured rings at this spot.

.It seems that lighthouses are built on chunks of rock, usually complimented by steep cliffs. Here are those cliffs at  Point Prim  (approximately at Latitude: 44.69 N, Longitude: 65.79W) marking the entrance to Digby Gut. 

The lighthouse is the first close view of any Nova Scotia building for travellers on the ferry from Saint John.

 Information boards have been posted by the Digby Area Tourism Board, and an entrance path has been cleared by the “Friends of Point Prim”. These are helpful modifications, and certainly make the place more welcoming to visitors.  

 There is a web cam at Point Prim. Sometimes, for amusement, I check it, to see what the sea is doing. Our sheltered Annapolis Basin does not necessarily reflect the site specific weather in the Bay of Fundy. Here is the website for the Point Prim web cam:

http://www.novascotiawebcams.com/bay-of-fundy/point-prim-lighthouse.html

For some reason, iron stakes are frequently pounded into the rocks around lighthouses. Presumably they are for guide ropes, to keep people away from the cliff edge, or to thread ropes for rescue operations. Over a couple of centuries, there have been a few sea rescues from Point Prim, and occasionally items from those ships float to shore. I didn't spot anything significant on this trip.

One of the intriguing pleasures of the many micro-climates of the Annapolis Basin is that flowers which have gone to seed in our village are still blooming at Point Prim. These roses, for example, added a bright, and sweetly scented, aspect to this day trip.

The predominant flora,  creating an undulating carpet as they waved and swayed in the breeze, were the grasses. 

I think they were wild rye, but there might have been some switchgrass and definitely some sweet grass in the mix. Delicate flowers peeked out from the thick grasses, adding a delightful smerch of colour to the visual-scape. 

I know that the Bluebells were garden escapees long ago, but they were pretty to see in a landscape of green, beige, brown and grey.  

The dogs had a marvellous time, scrambling around the rocks, and among the grasses. I had a more sedate walk, and didn't dare go too close to the cliff because the unpredictable dogs were gallavanting. There is no way I wanted Toti to bump into me when I was standing at the edge of the cliffs.

For a couple of hours of diversion, the outing to Point Prim was perfect. Located close to home, it felt like another world. The dogs had space to run, and I had a bench on which to sit, contemplate, and watch them run a bit wild.

The fish and chip supper? The chip shop en route has closed.  I shall have to make a different plan for the next time I plan a fish and chip supper and some quiet time with the dogs at the edge of the land, like at Point Prim.