Sunday, August 29, 2010
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Friday, August 20, 2010
|Waxing gibbous moon over Edgartown Harbor|
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Many are wistful for the good old days, I'm hearing lately - for the people, the town, and times gone by.
Monday, August 16, 2010
Our own Father Michael Nagle, with the parish's summer priests, Oratorian Paul Pearson, and Jesuit Bentley Anderson, out for an evening stroll, with Fr. Anderson still wearing the satisfied glow of having run in that day's Chilmark Road Race (nice t-shirt, too).
Sunday, August 15, 2010
|Capt. Porky aboard his White Water|
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Our Bend in the Road Beach (home of the best swimming on the planet, I dare say) is slightly improved this summer - the steep hill that was created by last year's renovations has been smoothed out, a few picnic tables and benches have been added, and the beach is, over-all, more usable.
There is one major problem, however: the spoils that were most recently dumped onto the beach (from the dredging of Sengekontacket) contained a preponderance of stones. Yes, what was once a lovely sandy beach is now unfit for walking on with bare feet. Ouch! I wonder what advanced-degreed engineer master-minded this fiasco? (Probably the same engineer who designed the man-made dune that blocks the view of the water from the parking lot, the lot where many locals, some elderly and unable to get down to the beach, once loved to come and sit at the end of the day and watch the water and the activities on the beach. This same dune also blocks the refreshing afternoon wind - it's an oven on that beach on a hot day.)
I can't imagine that those stones are going anywhere, sorry to say.
The swimming is still good, but you'll have to go up farther towards the bridge to find the soft, uncorrupted sand.
See you there.
|This year's spoils, awaiting dispersal|
|Beach renewal, spring 2009|
|The new beach - spacious but painful to walk on with bare feet|
|Sand and water always guarantee hours of happiness|
|Watch it - this guy is looking for your lunch|
|Treasures to take home in a blue pail|
Steve and his three brothers, Doug, Colin, and Scott, grew up across Main Street and up a few houses from me, and Steve's father, Harvey, who wrote for the New Bedford Standard Times (I can see Harvey now, zipping in and out of town hall, on the trail of a hot story most likely, and I can hear his voice as if it were yesterday) was a fixture in town in my growing up years, as well as a good friend of my mother's (who also wrote for that paper for a while).
Steve's been building and repairing docks for years now, owns Aquamarine dock-building company, based down at Collins' Beach where I often run into him when I'm out and about. In addition to being an all-around good citizen, husband, father, hard-worker, and salt-of-the-earth, Steve's apparently got ink in his veins, too - inherited from Harvey, no doubt - as he is an accomplished poet (Doug's son, Ray, has taken up the mantle as well and is on his way to becoming a fine photojournalist).
The following poem, penned by Steve, was published in the Vineyard Gazette in December 2009 (I just love that he mentions Hinky Pease) and is used by permission here.
To a Shucker
Green side up
Knife goes in
Cut it clean
Top shell off
Thumb on guts
One smooth swipe
Next the meat
Eye in air
Beans all night
The endless fight
Beers are drunk
Shells mound up
On and on
Eye in air
Hinky, Mark, Tommy too
The best of them
The best of you
Cut em clean
It all adds up
In every cup
And gallon too
The more you make
The more you do
— Steve Ewing
Steve, at work, captured on Tri-X, late '90s, after a hurricane, as I recall.
I think that's Dougie Benefit in the water.
Below: Collins' Beach
|Ellsworth and Evelyn Simpson|
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
For another thing, walking, simply by virtue of its being exercise - albeit low-impact - increases blood flow to the brain, which improves thinking, and specifically, memory.
I love riding my bike, when I'm in a hurry, say, but there's something grounding - literally - about walking. If I walk one mile - 5,280' - at the rate of 1.5' per step, that is many, many times that my feet touch the ground in that mile (I'm not in the mood for math today; actually, I never am), with each step adding immediately and directly to my feeling of well-being and strength and ability to face the world (gosh, if I owned this idea and could market it, I'd be rich).
Today I took a walk out the West Tisbury Road, to gather my thoughts, as well as a few images, some of which I share here:
This field has been used for growing hay for as long as I know of, and one of my favorite memories is of seeing Phillip Jeffery Norton - well into his elder years - raking this field by hand with his long, wide, wooden hay rake.
Now, that would be a picture.
|Queen Anne's lace and coreopsis|
|Queen Anne's lace|
|Our golden jewel of the fields, butterfly weed|
Sometimes on my walks, I might hop up and walk on top of a stone wall I find along the way, such as this 3'-high wall on the edge of Floyd and Janet Norton's property.
Why? One, because it's there; two, because I still can; three, it's the way I keep the balance mechanism in my inner ear working properly; and four, because it's a way of seeing the world from a different perspective - remember? like we did when we were kids. I don't ever want to lose that ability. Yesterday I was lying on my back in the grass, looking through the sun-haloed leaves of a big old oak, watching the sky and the clouds (oh - be sure to look in the northern sky tonight, right after dark, for the aurora borealis, a result of a big - big? try cosmic-proportioned - storm that erupted on the sun yesterday). At one point, I turned onto my side. All the trees and houses were sideways - a little dizzifying to have the horizon at a 90-degree angle, but interesting - important, also, to keep our brains young according to latest research, to see the world that we take for granted in new ways, from many different angles. Yes, that's how we stay young, folks, by acting young and thinking young (oh, I wish I owned this idea, too).
|Another sign of summer's waning: goldenrod at Sweetened Water Pond.|
So, when you see me walking, remember, I'm not doing nothing - I'm thinking.