Insta-fair

The Edgartown girl ventured all the way up to West Tisbury this week, to the fair - who can resist? It was fun, but the problem is, I always go expecting to find the old gang just as we were when we were teenagers. Curiously, some of us are dead, some have moved away, some just don't bother to go anymore, and the rest of us are now white-haired, lined up at the kiddy rides photographing our grandchildren. I just can't wrap my brain around all this.

I lugged the big cameras, too, but I think I prefer the Instagrams from the phone, what with life sometimes looking better in black and white, slightly out of focus, and down-rezzed.

Quality, Not Quantity

Last night on the porch was fabulous. We were small, but mighty. It was one of those crystalline evenings - clear and dry, a welcome change from the dank and dreary June and July we suffered through - and there was August magic in the air. Several old friends randomly stopped by, and the buzz of the impending meteor shower, the Harley Ride to the Rock, the president's visit, along with the upcoming week that features Illumination Night, the annual fair, and the fireworks was palpable. Plus, everyone was just plain in a good mood because it was such a pleasant evening. Even strangers were smiling and stopping to talk. The best part of the night, though - hands down - was when, during some tune or other Jon and I were wailing away at, a dude runs up onto the porch, grabs the spare banjo out of its stand and plays along with us as if we've all known each other all our lives. Then, just as quickly, before the tune had even ended, he was gone, hopping into the car he had left idling on the street, abandoned so's he could play with us, albeit briefly. Oh yeah, a magical night. I never did see those meteor showers, though. Oh well, there's always next year.

Summer Sky - August 4, 2013

I heard it before I saw it: thunder in the distance that called me out into the summer evening with my camera. Just lucky this time, and very glad to live five-minutes-by-bike to the lighthouse.

Fourth of July 2013

From getting ready, to the parade, and music on the porch. As always, wishing I could clone myself so as to be able to simultaneously play music, cook, hostess, and photograph. A lovely day altogether, even managed to sneak in a swim. Thanks, Edgartown, for a great party, and many thanks to the friends who made the trip over and made the music on the porch great.






























This house on Morse Street was built when our country was only four years old.


Everyone's favorite summer officer: Neal Condlin.


Geno, Joe, and the colonel.


Margaret and April





Bill and Pat Black, over from Falmouth.


Mike











My favorite Yankee Doodle boy.


Ben





Lidia


Levi





Joan





Colonel Morgan, stepping lively at 92.


Skip


Our Sheriff
































Every good session eventually ends up in the kitchen.