Still more photos from an oddly not sad day, but it easily could have been. I’m approaching the five year mark of widowhood and almost nothing about my life is the same these days. I have turned my life totally upside-down. Not something I planned to do, just a need that overtook me as I took the days one at a time. Life is good.
Whenever I think of Plymouth, MA I remember the view from a favorite waterfront restaurant of my mother’s. There were rock jetties, and boats bobbing in the water, and families walking along the shoreline. A totally picturesque scene, very photogenic, so I have wanted to head to Plymouth harbor every time I’ve been ‘up north’, and I finally made it. Sunday’s excursion was prompted by the realization that if I had any hope of getting off the Cape on the Sunday after the 4th of July I had better get up and go early. And with all the online chatter among the locals about traffic and how you’d better save your errands for the next day, it seemed like a good idea. Did I know that it would be low tide early in the morning? No, but these are details I never check out ahead of time. It’s fly by the seat of your pants for me. So there was no bobbing of boats. And there was a chilly breeze after extremely hot temperatures the day before. When I saw a parking spot near the marinaI decided it was my lucky day, low tide or not, it was a nice trip. And when I returned to the Cape I saw the endless line of traffic heading off the Cape while I sailed along in no traffic at all. I pretty much got what I wished for.
I caught a glimpse of the canal as I drove toward Cape Cod on the 3rd of July. I saw a sailboat, and I imagined a pleasant sail, and a lovely breeze on a bright sunny day. As I crawled along on that last leg of the journey the announcers on the radio informed all of us that the 3rd was the very worst day to be traveling for a 4th of July event. But it honestly wasn’t any worse than I had expected. Of course I had the camper in tow, and I almost dreaded getting to my destination for fear that I wouldn’t be able to get into the spot in my sister’s yard that I had imagined. But I did, and I’m here.
I drove back off the Cape on the morning of the 4th, and I stopped at the nice scenic overlook on the canal to take some photo. The pleasant sail I had imagined looked a little more hectic with the canal full of boats, all of which seemed to be going as fast as they could. And creating waves that were rolling up on shore. What was their hurry? All they seemed to want to do was turn around and go back the way they came. We used to call that cruising the drag back in the olden days when I was a girl.
There were people who appeared to be ready to spend the day, with their picnic baskets or bikes. And lots of fishing along the banks too. And the cutest little golden doodle puppy standing with her front paws up on the railing, enjoying the view just as I was. Of course when she saw me trying to take her picture she chose a different pose. She was a happy little thing. She is the least golden golden-doodle I’ve ever seen, I hope she doesn’t get a complex about that. I liked her just as she was.
Why do I stress so much over packing for a trip? Always, no matter where I’m going. And I take too much. Always, no matter where I’m going. But this time I am heading north to pick up my new trailer, and I suddenly realized that it will be 100% empty when I arrive to take it. So I started packing up all my extra spatulas, silverware, paper products, basic stuff that I have duplicates of anyhow. Seemed like a no brainer. A win-win. Oh wait, towels, packed some of those. And laundry supplies since I have extra. Cleaning supplies too, again, there is so much of that stuff in this place that I probably will never have to buy it again. Then I put the seats up in the Pacifica and found out that there is an incredible amount of storage space in that car. Lots more than it seemed with the stow away seats stowed away. I hadn’t had the seats up since I bought it, and all the bins that I had in the back were sliding around back there, and now they have now disappeared into the space behind the third row seat. They won’t be sliding now, and they stack, two side-by-side, and three high. Now I have empty bins and it’s tempting to fill them up, because I can.
This sort of thing makes me nuts, and I was stewing about it at 2:30 AM, which left me plenty of time to go out for the sunrise at Bayport this morning, just to give my brain a rest. But it seemed that everyone had that same idea. There was a traffic jam at the docks, a line up of cars with their boats behind them, all waiting to get on the water. And multiple fishermen on the pier where I usually have full reign to compose shots. I figured it out eventually. It’s Saturday! I’ll bet I worked just about every Saturday for 7 years. That explains it. The sunrise wasn’t much, but this heron decided it was time for a close up. Now I’m back to packing, those empty bins are calling me…
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.
I’m not sure why but my GPS took me on a route I’d never been on when I left Cape Cod last Wednesday. I was happy it did because I noticed a pretty little harbor and stopped for photos. The boats were all at anchor, it struck me as a sleepy little place. Only later did I notice that I was in the town of Weymouth, MA. Weymouth, where a policeman was killed recently during a routine traffic stop, along with an innocent woman killed in her home in the same incident. Sleepy and peaceful for days, and weeks, and years, but not immune to the craziness that we see on the news all the time. Even in the aftermath it’s hard to imagine that such horrific things can and do happen in such lovely places.