Take it from me, you probably don’t want to go on a Sunday drive with me. Even on a Monday. Or not if you have an agenda of your own. Because if I have my cameras with me I’m going to find something to photograph. It might be a charming town square with a very New England sounding name. And a cemetery that could have kept me busy for a long while, or until I couldn’t take the cold any more. Or the shortest, fattest cows you’ve ever seen might catch your eye when you pass by a pretty little farm. On a nicer day my friend might have gotten out and enjoyed the scenery instead of sitting in the car enjoying the heat. I hope there will be many more Sunday drives on pretty days, and warmer weather, and even on Mondays.
I spotted Veteran’s Park beach the other day, but my goal that day was to find a west facing spot for the sunset so I continued on to Kalmus beach. And was treated to a really colorful sunset. But Veteran’s Park beach had been on my mind ever since, and yesterday I finally got there just in time to see a ferry leaving, all lit up in the pitch black dark. I hadn’t gotten the cameras out yet, but I was excited about what I’d see. And then I waited. The light got pretty, no red color, but that blue hour light is nice all on it’s own. Then another car pulled into the parking area and the driver never got out, but he rolled down his window and said that he comes there every day to take pictures of the sunrise. I asked where the sunrise was that day and he said not to worry, it will show up. But it didn’t. He gave up on it before I did. But there is always tomorrow. Except tomorrow is today and I think I’m going to pour another cup of coffee and sit here in the dark and quiet a little longer…
Did I say how gray and gloomy January is? Well, it is, until it isn’t. The sun was out and the sky was blue yesterday, and I found myself at the Cape Cod Canal searching for the vantage point for a picture I saw online the other day. It was a sunset sky, with the Bourne Bridge in the foreground, and the uprights of the bridge framing a view of the old railroad bridge beyond it. It was beautiful, but I believe I turned out to be on the wrong side of the canal for that shot. I was using Google maps and had chosen a parking spot, but they had that access blocked, so I continued to the next place to park. Then I had to climb down a steep trail, in the wrong shoes for a hike, and I was in woods that quickly made it seem that I was in the middle of no where. I will have to ask my hiking friend about the wisdom of hiking alone.
There was another set of steps to get down to the canal access road, which I had to myself. Well, except for the sea gulls. And I couldn’t see either bridge once I got down there. But I was looking for the Bourne Bridge, and I knew it was somewhere to my right, so I started walking.And walking some more until I finally saw the bridge. And still I walked. And the closer I got the more I realized that the railroad bridge was probably a lot further away than the photo I’d seen had made it seem, and I began to worry about the fact that I had lost track of how many of the sets of steps I had passed (I had been counting but had lost track), and how would I know which set of steps would lead me to that climb through the woods to find the car?So I turned around to go back. Hardly a hike by some people’s standards, but I think it turned out to be about 6 miles all together. I will try again on another sunny January day. I have flip-flops in the car in case of a pedicure emergency, so I will also leave a pair for hiking in the car so any and all photo emergencies will be covered. And once I remembered that I could ask Siri where the car was I wasn’t as worried about finding my way through the woods.
Turns out I wasn’t alone after all…
Kalmus beach was where I was headed for the sunset last night. On the map it appeared to be facing west, and it was in range of the restaurant where I was meeting an old friend last night. Re-meeting since it had been about 50 years since we’d seen each other. Both the sunset and the meeting didn’t disappoint. I walk around with a constant buzz in my chest these days. I like to think that my heart is literally warmed to be here after pining for home for a very long time. I could lament about the time I missed with these special people, in this place that I have always treasured as home, but I’m here now. And it’s the only place I want to be. In my younger years there were too many distractions, too many demands on my attention. This time of life is when you can savor just what you have, and how lucky you really are.
This last photo was taken after the tripod and camera had taken a nose dive into the wet sand. Face first, which was unfortunate for the camera with a lovely tulip shaped lens cover that stays in place and just folds and unfolds to allow the lens to zoom and retract. Sand was caked into all the nooks and crannies. I worked to get the sand out quickly since the camera would go to sleep on it’s own in a minute, and the lens cap would attempt to close. I took the picture in an effort to keep the cover open and buy some time. But it couldn’t close and I went to visit with my friend. When I got the camera out later it was closed. I will investigate further today, but first I need more coffee.
I’m not sure that anyone in my life has ever astounded me as consistently as my Aunt Millie did. As a very young girl I lived upstairs from my aunt’s ever expanding family. At that time I was aware of my aunt as a shadowy figure in the background, always tending a baby. In fairness to her I remember no parents at all from those days, I only remember the fun we kids were having. We moved away from that neighborhood, and then I got married and left my hometown, never to live in New England again. Time passed and the 70s and 80s happened, and I heard that my Aunt Millie had gone back to college and was now a teacher. Astounding. I heard about their family summers spent camping, or on ski trips, plus cross-country RV trips, and I found myself amazed again and again. By now I lived in MD and was happy to have my aunt and uncle as visitors as they traveled here and there. That’s when Aunt Millie really came out of the shadows to me. It was then that I really saw her, strong and opinionated (as the Nelsons tend to be), and it seemed as if I met her for the first time. I was lucky to have had a chance to spend time with her and Uncle Bob in the last 15 or so years. If circumstances had been different I might never have really gotten to know her at all. I’m glad I did. She died yesterday at 93, and she will be missed.
I read a blog post this morning and the blogger described her lifelong friend as having relocated from her failing body into much better accommodations. That just says it all…
I talked myself out of going out for the sunrise this morning because it was 27 degrees out. I told myself it would be so much warmer if I went out for the sunset. And it was warmer, 28 degrees is what the car told me. And a LOT of wind. This is Rock Harbor Beach in Orleans, MA. It wasn’t until I was heading home that I spotted the wharf, which made for a few more nice pictures, even without bobbing boats. It’s winter on Cape Cod. I will look forward to revisiting these spots in the summer, in flip flops.