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."

Polly Hill Divertissement

Let's face it, everything is a diversion at this point; a distraction from the grim reality that has plagued our world at this time. A walk around Polly Hill Arboretum was my second such distraction and time-filler for today. I really can't complain because some people are being held captive in far less beautiful environments. Since this is the third blog post for today I'll let the photos speak for themselves. Tomorrow we will be one day closer to normal.















This flower is called Lenten Rose - perfect, since it blooms during Lent and it's the same color as the priest's vestments on Laetare Sunday (fourth Sunday in Lent).

West Chop Wanderings

I took advantage of a trip to pick up contact lenses at my eye doctor's office today - actually from a cooler on his porch - to take a quick stroll on the beach at the West Chop Beach Club, with one eye open for beach glass (to no avail). The wind was whipping off the water from the northeast, causing me to not linger, but it was a pleasant sojourn. I was surprised to discover that the little Lumix handled seagulls a-flight with aplomb.

The State of Things

We are now in full-blown stay-at-home mode. Yes, we can go out for a walk - thank God. We do expect the streets to be quiet this time of year, but this is beyond the beyond - eerie, surreal. God save us all.


Main Street, looking west, late afternoon.

Main Street, downtown.

Court house parking lot.

Downtown - a new way of interacting: six feet apart.

Winter Street



Plantingfield Way

                                             Main Street, downtown Edgartown.

Photo-therapy

These strange times continue, approximately one week in. My consolation continues to be my walks - in and around town and beyond - and employing my Lumix to capture the world around me; the walking and creative efforts serving as distractions to an otherwise depressing situation, occasionally running into other humans out and about, walking the streets, all of us grateful to share a smile and a "hello" (from a distance, of course).



A splash of color is very welcome on a gray day.

This bench along the yellow trail at the Caroline Tuthill Preserve has no takers today. 

From a distance, I thought the swans were swimming among white buoys.



Anthier's Pond lies just over this hill.

A South Beach Sunset never disappoints. 

Sometimes we hope for empty streets and no traffic, but after a week's worth, it's getting old. 

Fishermen's Pier - different every day. 

Herring Creek Farm

The late afternoon light at Herring Creek Farm is always a good bet. One of the Highland cattle in particular was very friendly and came up close for a good sniff of me. At least the animals are safe to be near.