Nova Scotia

				So off I go to Nova Scotia, my home whilst being of the tenderest of
				ages, sort of. Eleven to Fourteen, actually. Early '70s, before
				hippies knew that Nova Scotia existed, if they ever did, and during
				the time of the solar eclipse mentioned in Carlie Simon's song. A
				simpler time, possibly a stupider time.
	

Ahhh, the seashore at low tide


lobster traps


Lobster boats


Pretty boy boats


Boats leaving the harbour


Stylin', Fishermen like


Pylon


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