I've lived in some magical places around the world. Communities that immediately and genuinely invited newcomers in - all the way in.  Communities that feel like the Cheers bar, were they're always glad you came.  In Monteverde, the response to the endless stream of visitors and new short-term residents was an enthusiastic, "What new blessing are you bringing to our community?"  In Duncan, we felt at home on my very first visit to the Sunrise Waldorf parking lot and Community Farm Store notice board.  Annual Quaker gatherings (FGC, NYM, Western Half) have the same Instant Family magic.

Now add to that special list the tiny village of Annapolis Royal on the coast of Nova Scotia.  We randomly chose it because of the availability of a gorgeous 1890's home needing a dog-sitter, not knowing it claims to be the oldest European settlement in Canada (the Queen's husband quite enjoyed visiting here and sowing his royal oats - more than one of the 516 residents proudly boasted of having royal blood in their lineage).  Not knowing it has a huge network of bicycling trails through magnificent farmlands and gentle rolling hills.  Not knowing we'd be enchanted enough to put it on the If/When-We-Someday-Somewhat-Settle-Down-It-Could-Be-Here list.

The very first person we met, on the very first day, was the Town Crier - an Atlantic tradition that continues strong in this region.  In the entrance to the community gym where the annual library book sale was starting, she sang the praises of her community and was soon joined by several other locals strongly urging us to stay, visit the Chocolate Shoppe (only Wed-Sat, 10-2), join the tennis club.  This set the tone for the whole visit - people genuinely wanting us strangers to move here and be part of their lives, rather than hoarding their secret paradise for themselves.

While dog-walking, people would stop and talk for 5 minutes (or sometimes join me for the whole walk) rather than the usual friendly "cute dog and isn't it cold today" greeting.  I would learn when and why they moved here, when their husbands' pacemakers were put in (average age here is 61), their love stories - layers that take years to reach in other places.

We were invited by a neighbour for tea!  Inside their house!  The guitar player we chatted with at  the Farmers Market invited me to pickleball, and when I arrived he was happy to see me (like, he really meant it when we said I should come). Several people from the film festival short film screening greeted us by name a few nights later at the feature film in the historic Empire Theatre. That shouldn't be a big thing, shouldn't be an unusual thing.  Here it felt like a normal, natural thing

We walked the ocean boardwalk and the windswept grounds of historic Fort Anne.  Attended the Christmas light-up parade with Santa on his sleigh (pulled by his pick-up truck), gingerbread competition, and historical re-enactment actors.  Ate Thanksgiving scallops (and danced, and photo-bombed a painting with Mozart) in a seaside restaurant all to ourselves.  Had long chats with local artists in their galleries and the community Artists House, where Sarah could join a fabric arts collective or afternoons of painting in the courtyard.  Walked and cycled miles of country, city, and rail-trail paths past farms, orchards, and gorgeous and well-preserved old homes (including over 135 heritage buildings, one of the highest concentrations in Canada).

I spent my senior year of college striving to not fall in love and settle down, so that I'd be free to roam the world and fall in love many many times with many  many people and places and wonderments.  Now only two months into this new adventure we must  do the same.  Thank you, Annapolis Royal, for a magical affair, and please keep allow those window candle lights burning for perhaps when we're ready for a long-term relationship...