A Night in Summerside, P.E.I.
Sunsets, ice cream and becoming part of the living tapestry.
Look closely and you’ll see that the underlying fabric of any community, big or small, is something of a living tapestry.
From one-off visitors to long-time residents, each will add something of their own. A small piece of themselves that, in time, will become part of a shared collective experience.
Fall fairs, to entire festivals centred around local industry, no two tapestries will be the same - similar sure but wholly unique.
And spending a Friday evening in Summerside, P.E.I, basking in the late August sun?
It is have one of those tapestries burst forward, with colour and character so striking, you could put them on a postcard.
Passing through downtown is to see the harbour, picturesque yes, but in motion.
But to make a left?
It is to step back in time.
Every Friday night this summer, Summerside has been hosting a classic car show: from late-1920s Model As, to Mustangs of varying personality, from the 1970s all the way to the mid-2000s.
Conformity, after all, has never been an automotive-industry strong suit. Consider: Volkswagens and their interiors, decked out with psychedelic carpeting that would have even the most perfectly-groomed of handlebar moustaches, standing on edge.
No guideline, no rulebook.
After all though, that is part of the fun.
Around eight o’clock, as the sun disappears, its slow descent into tomorrow, the band of the evening, Fall Back, begins to play. Hitting, with gusto, those opening iconic notes to Roy Orbison’s Pretty Woman, as they waft over the assembled crowd of a couple hundred-plus (and good timing too - the song, the jukebox hit of any classic rock outing worth its salt, first released sixty years ago this month).
Unlike a tightly scripted rock-set, however, there is a looser, improvisational feel to the whole affair, as one moves through it.
The road may be closed but the stoplights, still changing, from red, yellow, green and back again, provide a touch of ambience that even the most accomplished of club DJs would be hard pressed to match.
It is a sock hop, almost out of time but immediately present.
Where anybody who is anyone knows everybody who passes by… and even if they don’t, if they hear you’re just visiting from Toronto (kind-sorta)?
That’s okay. They’re just as happy to see you, too.
Later on, the sun, gone completely now, is replaced with the faint dim of streetlights. Lacking the energy of their traffic-conducting cousins but presenting instead, an impressive durability.
They’re lighting the path to Holman’s.
The long-time home of a prominent Summerside family for over a century, in 2016, after local intervention to save it from demolition, the property was converted into an ice cream parlour.
One that is already known, far and mostly-wide from Tignish to Basin Head (and for my money, has the best peanut butter milkshake you’ll find this side of Montréal but that’s another story).
The night though, isn’t over.
From Summerside, we make our way to Abram-Village, to the Acadian Festival Barn, where, with a night of good music and better company, that sense of community only grows stronger, the tapestry, richer.
My Mum grew up on Prince Edward Island. And naturally, from coast-to-Island-coast, you’ll find extended family, close family and friends like family.
A home away from home.
Eventually, all seas will part and those that travelled together, well, we’ll go our separate ways, until we meet again.
Time zones will change, routine will return, the dairy bars will become chip trucks. The red sand will fade away, further and further. From New Brunswick to Quebec, until you find yourself back in Ontario, “rippin’ the tar off the 401.”
But the memories?
They’ll stay close.
They always do.
Love the pic of you and your Mom in the same place as her aunt 🥰
My heart! ❤️ Perfection