Peter's Cove

I grew up just up the hill from this cove. My dad would coax us into kayak trips for picnics out at the "Three Sisters" island(s) - technically they were rocks, but my sisters and I were egocentric and felt like they belonged to us. Although these outings often ended up in exhausting treks through knee-deep mud, I did enjoy (most of) them.

Now, as you can see, there is no mud. Just ice. Maybe I will take a photo in the summer if I'm up here to compare.