Gasoline, Daffodils, and Surf

Today's meandering took me through Vineyard Haven, along North Road to Menemsha (where I was surprised, but not really, to find a parking lot half-full), then, with a vague idea of visiting Lobsterville Beach, found myself instead pulling in to Squibnocket (I can rarely drive past Squibnocket without turning in; old habits and loves die hard), where the surf was a delightful 3-4' and breaking beautifully off of the muscle bed - my old stomping grounds. Two surfers were out and getting good rides, and a few surfers were in the parking lot in various stages of either getting ready to go in, or finishing up a session. I was tickled by the smiles and waves I got as I drove in - prompted, I'm sure, by the fact that I was driving my van with the surf racks on top. Seeing the waves and the surfers - oh, and it was a beautiful sunny day, too, with very little wind - made me wish two things: one, that I had brought my big camera with my long lenses (I have dedicated myself for the past two months to using the Lumix only, partly to completely and deeply learn the thing, and partly because it's so light and handy and I'm sick of carrying all the heavy stuff); and my second wish was that I had a wet suit and could do a little spring surfing.



I've photographed this old gas pump on North Road I don't know how many times - with daffodils, covered with snow, and everything in between. I've never found out what the story is on this defunct side-of-the-road gas pump. Was it a gas station once upon a time? Was it a private pump for a farmer? You can't see the price anymore, but, as I remember, its last sale was at .49/gallon.

What is the word for this? Irony? Dichotomy? Incongruity? I'll settle for charming.



I couldn't resist telling this surfer that I was one of the original surfers here in 1968. I could imagine his thoughts: "Good for you Grandma, get back in your rocking chair."








(Below) South Road, Chilmark. Many Vineyarders make a point of up-island daffodil tours at this time of year to "see the yellow."

The Last Day of Winter 2017

A Sunday afternoon drive with the eldest of my progeny yielded these results (not shown: interesting conversation and lots of laughs).



Atlantic fury at Stonewall Beach, shot from Squibnocket


Moshup Trail with Philbin and Zack's in the distance


Edgartown Harbor; desolate, save for Munchkin 4.

Squibnocket, Chilmark from Edgartown's South Beach. Twenty miles as the seagull flies, compressed by the magic of my 600mm lens.