Maybe it's because I spent the past ten years commuting every week between Edgartown and Brookline, or maybe it's because I woke up one day and realized that I have every single thing I need or want at home, but these days, I hardly care if I leave Edgartown ever again. I've never loved driving - much preferring walking or biking; seeing people face to face, taking in my surroundings while at the same time staying fit - and my aversion is even stronger now. Thankfully, living on Main Street, I can walk to just about everything. If it's not in Edgartown, I probably don't need it. And yes, I'm a throw-back to the days when Edgartown was Edgartown and Vineyard Haven was Vineyard Haven and rarely did the 'twain meet (except when it was time to head up to Brickman's for new school shoes). The one reality that I cannot change, however, is that the daily mass that is conducted one block from my house during July and August at St. Elizabeth's - which is so close that I can practically walk out my front door as the town clock begins ringing the nine o'clock hour and be in the pew before the last gong - switches over to the parish center in Oak Bluffs after Labor Day.
Oh well, I can't imagine there being a prettier fifteen-minute drive on one's way to pray anywhere in the universe than Beach Road between 7:30 and 8am - let's just call it preparation.
My beloved Bend-in-the-Road Beach.
The marshes and moors of Anthier's.
Sarson's Island with Felix Neck beyond.
The Derby is on.
I have photographed this little boat, Cassandra, from many angles and in various lighting conditions. I'm not sure what attracts me to her. Maybe because she seems abandoned and alone and somewhat neglected; some days she seems on the verge of sinking; all of the above describing the way I feel sometimes.
Wooly beach heather.