What's It All About, eh?

Cape Breton evokes deep memories and strong emotions for me as well as a deep appreciation for the beauty of my adopted island. My hopes are that you too might find the photos evocative - maybe a view you've not enjoyed before, or an 'Oh I've been there', or if from away that you may be encouraged to visit this fair isle so that you might come to love and breathe Cape Breton as I do. One word about place names that I use - some are completely local usage while others are from maps of Cape Breton that I've purchased over the years. I frequently post travel and other photos that are of interest to me - and hopefully you.

On the right hand side bar find my take on Single Malt whiskey - from how to best enjoy this noble drink to reviews (in a most non-professional manner) of ones that I have tried and liked - or not. Also musings, mine and others, on life in general.

Photographs are roughly 98%+ my own and copy-righted. For the occasional photo that is borrowed, credit is given where possible - recently I have started posting unusual net photographs that seem unique. Feel free to borrow any of my photos for non-commercial use, otherwise contact me. Starting late in 2013 I have tried to be consistent in identifying my photographs using ©smck on all out of camera photos I personally captured - (I often do minor computer changes such as 'crop' or 'shadow' etc but usually nothing major), and using
©norvellhimself on all photos that I have played around with in case it might not be obvious. Lately I have dropped the ©smck and have watermarked them with the blog name.

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Mointeach - Peat Field

© August '11     photo by smck







© August '11     photo by smck


The shore to the eastward of the mouth of Grand River, part of land originally allotted to the local fisherman for their piers, fishing abodes, and other related activities,  has long been called The Mointeach because of the peat underlying the heath above.  I have no idea how deep the peat goes but here in these photos you can see it as a layer of blackness.

Reflection on the D.T. s



Here's a poem I wrote for fun some years ago about the delirium tremours which I thought that I might post to go along with the Single Malt third of my blog trichotomy - even though in my experience the whiskey sippers - good bourbons, single malts, and such - seldom subject their self to over indulgence.






reflection on the d.t.’s

It isn’t their paws or their awesome claws
as they roll in there insolent ease.
that stands up my hair in a wild drunken scare
and slowly buckles my knees –
It’s the size of their yawn as they swallow my lawn
and half of my dogwood trees.

Though the smell of their breath is as fetid as death
exhaled in hurricane groans
it’s the metronome flail of their godawful tail
that chills me clear to my bones.

While the ichor that runs from the sores on their tongues
to fall hissing in pools at their feet
doesn’t bother me half as that olfactory draft
that issues in gusts from their seat.

To see lunch half digested in their teeth half arrested
writhing and screaming in pain
Gives me the tremors and shakes of anticipated aches
and I vow never to touch whiskey again!

In delirium I cry when a claw spears my eye,
“Oh my God!” and burst into tears.
Never again, I repent as I’m thrust in its’ vent
while it viciously rips at my ears.

Never again! Never Again! will I drunkenly sin
I plead as the delirium tremors hit me.
But my wild drunken half just gives a wild drunken laugh
as he downs some of the Hair-of-the-Dog that bit me.



69




well it took a while but it was a bit of fun
-writing it i mean
(and no I’ve never had them)

© smck