Right now, I am sitting in a little hotel on the shores of Buttermilk Bay, Taylor Point, Buzzards Bay, Massachusetts. The wind is howling and the surf is a little rough. As I look out over the many houses across the bay, I think of my own, sweet, little Blue Goose Cottage back in PEI, and I miss being there. Sure, without question, it is a beautiful place in the summer, but it is also wild and windy in the winter when the Strait freezes over and the snow coats the bank like icing on a cake. It is a powerful, surprising sight to one who has only experienced the "Gentle Island" in the summertime. Winter brings the full experience of living on an island. There is no ferry from Nova Scotia in the late winter and early spring because the ocean is frozen. High winds have closed the bridge when driving over two lanes high above the strait becomes too dangerous. The airport closes then, too. And we are left alone together on the island. Last year, in Greece, someone asked if I ever thought I'd like to live on an island. I told them I do live on an island. "No, but I mean a really, really beautiful island!!" "Yes," I answered, "a really, really beautiful island." Imagine preferring to live in PEI over Greece, over Hawaii, over anywhere else. I don't have to imagine it. I get to live it. Merry Christmas!
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