Welcome. Edgartown News was born from the simple fact that I have ink and Dektol in my veins and I need to write and photograph more than I need air or food, and from my love for this little town where I grew up and raised my family, the town I have left a few times but can't quite shake for good. Here you will find wanderings and musings, photographs and commentary; the people, places, and happenings - past and present - of a small island town: my home town.
After 24 hours of mayhem caused by power outages and fried circuitry and no heat - let's call it the Niko Effect - I made a break for it around 4:00 and took a drive up-island. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time when I realized the rising of the full moon was imminent - in clear skies with plenty of ambient light, conditions I've been on the lookout for - but I headed eastward, and home, just in case. This is the reward for my efforts. Better late than never.
By the time I walked down the stairs and grabbed my camera and tripod and walked back up the stairs and set it up in front of my kitchen window the actual fire had subsided, but the remnants were worth the effort. My morning view, give or take the ever-changing sky and seasons, 365 days/year.
With the holidays passed, all that can be said now is, "Welcome to January."
Bleak midwinter? January doldrums?
All is quiet here - a state I once dreaded but now savor.
Quiet, with an underlying pulse; life in the slow lane.
A lone quahogger forages the shore line of Sengekontacket.
Flocks of grackles dominate the January bird scene.
My son called and said, "Want to take a ride on the beach?" Being Sunday, a day that I set aside to do whatever I want, or nothing, and after having put in a fulfilling morning at Sunday school and the old folks home, and ready to throw in the towel for the day, I said, "Sure, pick me up." I was even smart enough to grab my camera - the long lens, just in case - maybe we'll see a snowy owl - the tripod, and a couple of other go-to lenses.
Footsteps of hand-holding lovers punctuate the sand.
It seemed we could see forever. We even saw Nantucket, a rare sight, only visible during super low tides and certain light, exactly like today's tide and long sideways light.
My chauffeur and tour guide
Adam saw it first, off to the left, perched next to the pond. It was patient enough to allow me to set up the tripod and get closer than I thought I might. I loved seeing its eyes fixed on me.
The landing on The Boulevard. Old stomping grounds from long ago. January thaw. Low tide at Anthiers with an abundance of clams to be had - "three or four to a hole." Too dark for the kind of moon shot I was after, should have been there the day before but this one works, in another way.
The moors and marshes of Anthiers with the barrier beach and a lone shellfisherman in the distance
A drive up-island with Becky yesterday afternoon yielded these gems (enhanced, of course, by the company of my dear friend as well as a spontaneous visit around the woodstove at Fran's house).
January woods
All that remains of the original Herring Creek Farm barn and out-buildings
Edgartown's Great Plains
Last year's sunflowers - tired and bent, but full of life; bearing seeds for next year's crop.
Menemsha shack, destined to be inherited by bittersweet vines
It's still Christmas until at least Epiphany, maybe longer in this outpost
Sunset reflection
Reds and blues stand out amidst the gray and white, with the red-white-and-blue flying nearby
Squibnocket, Chilmark from Edgartown's South Beach. Twenty miles as the seagull flies, compressed by the magic of my 600mm lens.
