If you are ever in Venice, Venice Florida that is, and it’s this time of year, then do yourself a favor and stop by the rookery to see the birds. I wonder if a lot of people are like me and have no particular desire to photograph birds, but this time of year there are birds everywhere here, and to want to photograph them is irresistible. Which explains why I bought my most powerful lens. Because the photos I saw other people getting were so amazing that I had to try to get photos like that also. And seeing those birds in their natural habitat, and learning about them, just spurs you on. There were mostly Great Blue herons and Great White Egrets there, with a few Anhingas tossed in. And a pair of hawks being chased off by a few grackles. Friends went exploring and found a few alligators also, but not me. After striking out weather-wise the last couple of days we couldn’t have had a nicer day to be out. It was a good day.
Perhaps I should have been paying more attention to the Severe Weather Alert notices that kept taking over the navigation screen in the car. The ones that I kept dismissing so that I could keep following the route. As I drive I don’t look at the scenery anymore, just the road and the navigation screen. That’s not a complaint though, I’ve had a lot more fun in this last year or so by following the GPS directions to photo ops, and to epic adventures.
The plan for today was to meet a cousin for breakfast this morning. But when I flung the curtains open I discovered that I’d have to clean the snow off the car before I could go. Wait, that meant I had to shovel my way out of there too! I remember coming home for a visit once and encountering snow, and being horrified to see my 55 year old father heading out with the shovel. He was too OLD to shovel, I said to myself, so I took over for him, and felt as if he’d barely escaped certain death. Funny how your perspective changes as you age, at least chronologically, but mentally you are just the same person as ever. My father was fond of saying that he was 18 years old, trapped in a 55 year old body. I thought it was cute when he said it, it was only later that I ‘got’ it. But I do wonder if I’d have done all the things that I have done in the last year when I was younger. I would have told myself that I couldn’t do what I wanted to do because I had other obligations that came first. It’s only lately that I’ve developed this ‘what the hell’ attitude and head out the door.
But I got there, to breakfast I mean. And since we were chatting I hadn’t read the menu at all. But the waitress was standing there, and I’d seen something about a Cape Cod Benedict, so I ordered it. The waitress came back and told me that something that was supposed to be on that dish wasn’t available, so I’d have to have double lobster instead. If I didn’t mind she said. I said no, that would be fine.
As we were leaving my cousin suggested I head to Lewis Bay for photos, so I did that too. Then I had a little trouble getting the car off the parking lot, but it’s like riding a bike, I remembered what to do. But that was enough to send me home to pack. I’ll be leaving the Cape tomorrow. Many thanks to my sister and her dog Shadow, who let me and Ozzie invade their peace and quiet. It’s been very nice, but it’s time to head for home and get settled into my new place. And to warm up…
I’ve been reading a story in serial form, a new chapter waiting for me online every morning. It’s written by another blogger with a lot more experience (and followers) than me. Which isn’t hard since I’m here in the dark and quiet, in the recliner, with my laptop, and I’m just thinking out loud. Well, accompanied by the sound of the typing, and the clock ticking. That other people may find it and read it is nice, but it’s not the point exactly.
In the serial the main character has come upon an old typewriter and he has discovered that whatever he types on it the night before is the reality that he wakes up to in the morning. What an interesting premise that is. I sit and write at night, what if I could just write my way into whatever fantasy I’ve been thinking about? It boggles the mind a bit, but me being me what comes to mind are my musings about life in an RV. Not unlike this author’s premise, in my fantasy my little trailer is magically parked in a spot with a fabulous view. Something with either a sunrise or sunset right outside the door. And I explore to my heart’s content, taking pictures. Period. I’ve been enjoying this particular daydream for years, without ever trying to imagine how the trailer has gotten to that lovely spot. It’s the imaginary destinations that I crave, not the gritty day-to-day work of getting from point A to point B. Soon I’ll be forced to figure all of that out, daunting as that may be. If only it could be as easy as “If I write it it will come.”
But there are places to go and people to meet. They are really out there, they aren’t just in my head. Like this place, Bass River, which caught my eye as I drove across the bridge. Who could resist that little green tugboat off in the distance? Certainly not me.
The blogger that I’ve been enjoying can be found at beetleypete.com.
I’m talking about the color in these photos. The temps in the 50s, be still my heart, and the beautiful blue skies were what got me out for photos yesterday. I didn’t realize that the water would be even more blue, and that it would look almost unnatural, it was that intense. When I left the house I had a plan, but first I asked Siri to direct me to the nearest gas station before my day took a wrong turn altogether. I was annoyed that she had me backtracking, I’m pretty sure that the gas station I intended to go to was only a smidge further than where she took me. And the gas would have been a lot cheaper where I had intended to go, but I digress. Her route took me to 6A, and I passed a sign directing me left for the Sandwich Marina, and there went my plan for the day. Photography is fun in a group, but really, for me it’s mostly a solitary pursuit, and that makes me happy when I fail to stick to a plan. No messing up someone else’s plan. For the most part I kind of like the no witnesses thing…It took a while for me to realize that there weren’t going to be a lot of boats around in the winter, so boats bobbing in the harbor wasn’t going to happen. But there were a few at the Sandwich Marina. And a Coast Guard boat sounded a horn before zooming out into the canal to do something important I’m sure. But I just couldn’t get over the intensity of the blue color of the water. And just one day later everything was a gray as it could be with the clouds and the fog. I should be happy, it’s always new and different photo ops to get you out there day after day.
The phrase “Pee or get off the pot” comes to mind, one of my mother’s favorite sayings. So I did, metaphorically speaking. Restructured my life with the goal to have nothing to do but have fun for the rest of my days, however many of them there may be. But in thinking about all the things I’ve longed to do in my life I needed to take it a step further. I’ve said that I want to travel, to be footloose and fancy free. And at this moment in time I feel that I’m physically able enough to tackle that lifestyle. But there can be no more procrastinating, no more ‘somedays’ to look forward to. It’s pretty much a ‘put up or shut up’ sort of thing. ‘Do or die’?
So I did. Yesterday. At the RV show. Bought a tiny little travel trailer so I can take my show on the road, knitting and all. I hope the learning curve isn’t too steep for me because I’m a total novice at camping of any sort. I’d let myself get discouraged and overwhelmed at the thought, but then I think of the photo ops and I’m ready for this. If I hadn’t done it yesterday I’d have wanted to go back today to sign on the dotted line. Instead of traveling in the weather I’ll be googling places to go.
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…