Impressions of Nova Scotia
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Friday night, 9:30 P.M., lounging in our pajamas, parties going on in Grafton Street, which our hotel room overlooks. Our window is open to let in the fresh night air.
In the distance, the sound of pipes: they become louder with each moment, with clapping and laughter, too. We look out the window to see a piper – one solitary man in a kilt – walking up Grafton piping away on his bagpipes, as a crowd follows him clapping and dancing in the street.
And then the stirring music recedes as quickly and surprisingly as it had arrived.
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