Cape of Light and Emptiness
"Perhaps it's a place that you have to find serendipitously, the road leading you there when you're ready to find it. You go when you feel the magnetic pull of the place."
Seek the light—good universal advice. We're heading to Cap-Lumiére, one of the most beautiful and empty beaches around. It's on the Acadian Coastal Drive which stays as close to coast as you can get and has good signage. To get there, we hug the coast from Cocagne to Bouctouche, go through the village, past La Dune up to Chockpish, then onto Route 505. This last leg is like driving on the edge of a cliff in spots.
We go past the dock, busy because it's the height of lobster season, until the road turns to a sandy beach road, we park and walk. From here you can walk for miles.
A high, white place
This is a high, white place to me even though it's sea level. It's a holy place, a place to go to be alone with my thoughts. It faces east, the direction of new beginnings.
When I'm here, I find it hard to believe that it is so beautiful, yet so undiscovered. There even isn't much on the Web about it, or about the lighthouse, built in 1864, which sits squarely on the roadside just before the beach.
It's baffling why so few find and venture out to the Cape of Light. Perhaps the information highway doesn't reach here. Perhaps it's a place that you have to find serendipitously, the road leading you there when you're ready to find it. You go when you feel the magnetic pull of the place.
Topograpahical art
To me, the beach at Cap-Lumiére is one of the most magnificent beaches along the Acadian Coast. It's actually called South Richibucto Beach on the topographical map I have up on my wall. It narrows and reaches to almost touch the other finger of beach reaching down from Kougibouguac National Park, North Richibucto Beach. It reminds me of the famous fresco Michelangelo painted on the dome of the Sistine Chapel. A white-bearded, windswept God reaches out a finger to a muscular, reclining Adam, giving the gift of life. In my mind, they're Finger of God Beach and Creation of Adam Beach and all this is Eden.
Behind the beach at Cap-Lumiére sits a large, boggy salt marsh. Maybe that's what keeps the beach from being over-developed and overrun. Bog makes bad real estate and mosquitoes keep away all but the most determined walkers and seekers of beauty. What's left is a strip of sandy shore and luckily the wind keeps the pesky insects away. But maybe there are bog fairies there that are the keepers and protectors of Cap-Lumiére. I wouldn't doubt it one bit. After all, I haven't seen too may four-wheelers there.