'scene' along the way, gardens, history, home, learning, live and learn, perseverance, photography, road trip, travel

Shaking it up…

Canterbury Shaker Village was the destination yesterday.  I was so distracted by the dramatic sky that I didn’t spend a lot of time wishing for a prettier day.  Well, when it was raining on us and we were taking shelter under a crab apple tree I may have wished for a better day.  But the porcupine in the tree was kind of fun, but he just plain wouldn’t say cheese so I don’t have his picture.  And we munched on huckleberries that were growing on the apple tree like a trellis, so it wasn’t all bad.  A sprinkle here and there was as bad as it got.

We took the guided tour of the village and that was well worth it.  The volunteer guide was terrific, and it was quite amazing to hear of the accomplishments and work ethic of the Shakers.  I was lamenting that I had been so distracted by the dramatic sky, which doesn’t always translate into great pictures, that I didn’t think I had taken any interior pictures.  Thankfully there were a few.

Shakerorgan
The organ was purchsed for use during their raucous prayer meetings, but it was too tall and they debated whether to raise the roof or drop the floor.  As you see they dropped the floor, because raising the roof would have cost them dormitory space above the meeting home. 
Shakerouthouse
This is a three hole outhouse.  Using an outhouse seems bad enough, but using it three at a time really boggles the mind.

The rest of these are just the grounds of the village.  The members lived in dormitories.  They were issued 120 garments each upon their arrival in the village.  These were their only possessions.  Their laundry facility was amazing.  The Shakers invented the first washing machines and sold them to hotels and hospitals around the world.  The garments were washed, dried, folded, and returned to the proper person by a system of baskets.  They were delivered by the children of the village, to the proper building, identified by letter, room number, closet or drawer number, and the initials of the owner.  Very efficient.

And if you are paying attention you may be wondering how a religious community that practiced celibacy managed to have children on the premises.  Shakers took in orphans and educated them as well as trained them in trades.  They were not automatically considered Shakers, because the belief was that you couldn’t make a decision as important as that one until the age of reason, age 17 – 21.  The more I learned about this group the more I admired their practices.  Each person worked at a job to benefit the whole, in 30 day shifts, and everyone rotated through every job required.  In that way no one was stuck in the less pleasant jobs and these rules applied to everyone, including the elders of the village.  The guide didn’t elaborate on the perceived benefits of celibacy, we’ll all have to ponder that one…Shakerouthouse2Shakerouthouse3ShakerredbuildingShakerredbuilding2shakersculptureShakersistersshopShakerskyShakersky2ShakerfeatureShakerdoorShaker1

'scene' along the way, Camping, finding my way, friends, live and learn, nature, perseverance, photography, road trip, sky, sunset, travel

Southern sky…

Far be it for me to argue with a life-long hiker/backpacker guy, but we had a disagreement on which way was east and which way was west.  The only color in the sky at sunset seemed to me to be in the east, which he insisted was the west.  I will always doubt myself, especially when it comes to talking with someone who did all that camping and always found his way back to the car.  Eventually.  But last night the controversy was decided.  The sun sets in the south!  And I can prove it!lastsunsetlastsunset2

'scene' along the way, adventure, finding my way, friends, Just do it, live and learn, perseverance, photography, road trip, strangers become friends

Buzzards Bay…

Why wouldn’t someone want to go to a place called Buzzards Bay?  I knew that I wanted to head there eventually, so as I left the scenic stopping point along the Cape Cod Canal I headed a little further down the road and found Buzzards Bay Park.  I didn’t expect to find the boat that I had been taking pictures of near the Sagamore Bridge to be approaching me again, but past the Bourne Bridge heading for the railroad bridge.  Either I drove really fast or he wasn’t going quite as fast as I thought he was.BBbournebridgeBBsameboatBBsameboat2BBrrbridgeI was down the canal and on the other side last winter when I was attempting to take a sunset picture with the railroad bridge standing behind the Bourne Bridge.  Now I had found the railroad bridge itself.  Not only that, I was hearing a train whistle and I got excited to think that the bridge would come down and we’d see a train come over it.  I had missed it by just a little a few weeks ago when I was sitting outside having dinner with a friend not far from that location, and here came a train right behind the restaurant.  Hardly worth taking a picture, but I tried.dinnertrainI had several nice conversations with other observers over the idea of whether a train was heading our way or not.  Turns out it wasn’t.  One gentleman was from the Pacific Northwest and he said he’d been on the east coast for a year and he loved it.  Wasn’t sure he wanted to leave.  Another man was able to identify the mystery critter that ran across the path, from the rocks at the edge of the water and into the brush.  It was a mink, he said.  I’ll take his word for it.  No picture, sorry.  And lastly there was a woman who was from the area and had experience with riding the trains that used to travel in the area in the summer.  But, as usual, the conversation took this twist and that twist and we wound up talking about quilting, and living alone, and making do with tiny houses.  Every now and then I would look up and see a sailboat, or a tug boat, or I’d think about the scenery beyond the railroad bridge, and take a few pictures.  Eventually it was time for her to get back to her bike ride, and I headed back to the pop up, quite pleased with the day’s events.  Nice talking with you Charlene…BBsailboatBuzzard'sBayfeatureBBrrsailboatBBrrtugBBrrtug2

'scene' along the way, finding my way, learning, live and learn, moments, natural wonders, old dogs new tricks, on closer examination, perseverance, photography, road trip, sky, sunset, technology

Millway Beach sunset…

The trouble with finding that the sunset is going to be especially nice is that you are there with your camera, so you keep clicking away.  Look away for a second and when you look again you would swear that the colors are up a notch and it’s even more beautiful than you thought.  Though later on when you look at your photos in the computer that doesn’t seem to be the case.  Which one is the best?  Our fearless camera club leader says that if you really want to know how to choose between essentially equal photos then look at the metadata and choose the biggest file.  Bigger file means more detail.  Did I do that?  Of course not.

Sunday night I went out to Kalmus beach expecting to take the pictures I got last night.  Nope, I was way off.  And I wasn’t going to be able to find another vantage point in the amount of time available.Sundaysunset

Ah, but last night was a different story.  I should get a compass ap for my phone so I can find west when I need to.MillwaybeachboatMillwaysunset2Millwaysunset3Millwaysunset4Millwaysunset7MillwaysunsetphotographersMillwaysunsetclams

And just when you’ve already taken a million pictures and you think you’ll be heading home soon this happens.Millwaysunsetrings

adventure, Camping, connections, finding my way, learning, live and learn, perseverance, photography, road trip, unintended consequences

Life lessons…

Route 6A on Cape Cod is a Sunday drive sort of road.  It meanders, and if you are in a hurry it’s probably not your road of choice.  And when your GPS in your phone stops talking with the GPS in the car it’s not such a bad road to be on either.  Eventually you’ll see something familiar and find your way again.

I was running errands and wanting to take some pictures, but the reality of the Cape in summer is that you have to pay for parking wherever you go during the day.  Getting out early for the sunrise or after 5 for the sunset is fine, no fees for a quick stop.  But when I saw a sign for Sandy Neck Beach I took the turn, even though it was approaching noon.  The fee for the day was $20, but at the little gatehouse I explained that I just wanted to take some pictures, so the gal let me park next to her car and said that she had no problem if I wanted to walk in on the trail.  I thought that sounded like a great idea, and I headed down the path with dunes to my left and marshes to my right.sandynecktrailsandyneck1It was a half mile trail, according to the sign, and I anticipated being on the beach in no time flat.  The trail was covered in beach rocks, always so silky smooth but big enough to make walking a bit uncomfortable.  At least for a person in flip-flops.  Yes, my choice of footwear was an issue yet again.  And then the rocks were done and the trail was easy, until I came to the sand.  Now I was sinking into soft sand and I decided the rocks weren’t that bad, and with every twist of the trail I expected to see the ocean.  But all I saw was more sandy trail, and the sand was burning hot.  That’s when it dawned on me that I probably should have thought this through more.  I hadn’t thought of that beach ritual of a short dash through the hot sand to get to the water, it had been a long time since I’d been to the beach.  And now I was faced with nothing but a trail of hot sand and the promise of the ocean around the next bend.   I stepped on the clumps of grass next to the path when they were there, and stopped in the shade of a shrub when I could, but that hot sand was all I saw.  The ocean could be just ahead, I thought, and I knew that turning around meant more burning sand.  And then a guy came up behind me carrying his dog.  I had just taken the left fork in the path and asked if the beach was ahead, and he said yes.  He got to the top of an incline and put the dog down, telling him, “Almost there, buddy.”  I got to that incline and saw nothing but more trail, and more sand.  I wondered if I was really doing damage to the skin on the bottoms of my feet, and was quite mad at myself by the time I did see the ocean.  I don’t know which was the more welcome sight, the ocean or the port-a-potties right there as the trail met the beach.sandyneckbeachThe RVs on the beach were a surprise, and you can barely see the little truck in the center.  It was rigged with an awning, and I asked the very nice mother and son if I could stop in their shade for a second.  Maybe I looked worse than I actually felt, aside from my feet, because they leaped into action and gave me a water bottle and wanted me to sit, but I was dying to put my feet in the water.  My plan was to walk up the beach to where I could access the parking lot and walk back on the pavement, and they pointed out the flag on the concession stand and said to head there.sandyneck2sandyneckbeach2I’m glad that I did take a couple of pictures because I hadn’t walked far at all when the young man caught up with me and told me that he had flagged down a natural resources truck and they were stopping to pick me up.  Of course part of me wanted to object, I didn’t need help, I thought, but a ride all the way back to the car was just too tempting.  So I swallowed my pride and accepted the ride.  As hot as that sand was it didn’t do actual damage, I’m happy to say.  But my pride at blundering into that situation, that has taken a bit of a beating.  My faith in the people you meet along the way is still in tact though…

a second look, adventure, Camping, friends, live and learn, moments, perseverance, photography, road trip, sunset

Sunset Hill…

Have I only been here a week today?  It seems longer.  But on the other hand I haven’t been ‘out for pictures’ yet.  It’s the fact that we had the 4th, and the influx of people to make getting around an issue.  That I am one of those people doesn’t keep me from resenting my fellow invaders who are making life more complicated here on the Cape.  And camping itself is a distraction.  I’m not sure I should be congratulating myself over how much I am enjoying living in this little pop up, or ‘pup’ as they are called on the online group I found on Facebook.  Not when I can head into my sister’s house to do laundry or cook a meal.  It’s the best of all worlds at this moment.  I will just enjoy it.  But I did manage a trip to Sunset Hill last night.  I know I’ve been there before but it wasn’t sunset and I had vowed to go back.  I’m glad I did.sunsethill1sunsethill2sunsethill4sunsethill