That rocky coast of…

It’s the coast of Maine that is referred to as the rocky coast, but my childhood favorite beaches of Duxbury, Green Harbor, and Brant Rock are nothing if not rocky. I took Charley to Duxbury on a day when the beach was especially rocky and he was singularly unimpressed. But the two of us Brockton kids share a love of the same places, even if we didn’t ever know each other until 70+ years later. So we roamed, got lost, and roamed some more. And had lunch at Friiendly’s which we didn’t realize still existed. They did, in fact, have Fribbles on the menu, but I resisted, this time anyhow. The feature photo is the Scituate light, a place I never saw until this visit. Just up the coast. We have a wedding to go to this afternoon. Imagine the excitement of this morning for the bride and groom. Then tomorrow we will head up the coast to the actual rocky coast of Maine, where we will explore, and probably get lost, some more.

This stone depicts the grounding of the ship Etrusco on March 16, 1956. My friend remembers this happening, but he is, ahem, older than I am so I don’t remember this at all. The ship ran aground during a ‘devastating St. Patrick’s Day blizzard’, and the gallant members of the Civil Defense communications staff in Scituate managed to keep the lines of communication going which allowed all 30 members of the crew to be rescued.

I hoped to get another view of the lighthouse, and it’s there, in the center, dwarfed by the ships masts. Kind of a Where’s Waldo thing.

The Fairview Inn, where my parents and their friends would go to get away from us kids when we all stayed in cottages at Duxbury Beach for the same couple of magical weeks each summer.

I hadn’t realized I had captured an image of one of the watch towers along the coast. Dating from WW2, and in the process of being restored.

And two Brockton kids wouldn’t head back to Brockton to meet up with old friends at the Cape Cod Cafe without a cruise through Fields Park. I said I hoped I’d see the swans. That you will see Canada Geese is a given.

Just one of the families of swans that we saw.

Tower Hill, where many Brockton kids tobogganed down the hill into the golf course in the winter.

At first we didn’t think we had people in common, even though we grew up in the same home town. But my cousin’s husband proved to be the link between my friend and his long-lost best friend from childhood, so our little reunion at the Cape Cod Cafe last night was worthy of a Hallmark movie. It’s so good to be ‘home’…