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…

'scene' along the way, a second look, adventure, Camping, finding my way, friends, fun, growing old, Just do it, life goes on, perseverance, photography, road trip, second chances, unintended consequences

Second chances…

I hit the road again yesterday.  Being in New England has allowed me to decide to attend the big graduation party for my friend’s graduates yesterday, and just get in the car and go.  Since 1969, the year we both got married and I moved away, spending time with my closest friend has required much preparation.  Vacation time, airline tickets, juggling husbands and children, and so for many years the closeness remained in tact, in spirit anyhow, but it wasn’t possible to actually be together.  Time has been our friend as we have gotten older, except for the wrinkles and gray hair.  But we have managed to visit more and more often as time has gone on, daily on facebook, and also in person.  And these years going forward are probably the time we’ll need each other the most.  I’m so glad to be here.  I think this snowbird thing is going to work out just fine…

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a second look, live and learn, losing it, nature, neighbors, perseverance, photography, reality check, sky, unintended consequences

Clouds on the horizon…

The clouds were gorgeous just as the sun came up this morning.  But attempting to get the palm trees to be in silhouette against the prettiest clouds proved to be harder than it looked.  Plus I was distracted by the knowledge that being out front with my camera was possibly going to cause repercussions with a problem neighbor.  I guess the wonderful neighbors in my old neighborhood had not prepared me for the possibilities in a new neighborhood.  It remains to be seen if the ideal of blissful life in an over-55 community is a pipe dream or a reality.

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a second look, finding my way, healing, history, memories, moments, perseverance, photography, unintended consequences

Hokey Pokey…

“You put your right foot in, you take your right foot out”…  The song came to mind this morning as I sat in the dark and quiet with my coffee.  At about a month since I actually moved myself into my new place, as opposed to just moving my stuff into my new place, I think I’ve got it settled.  Maybe.  But all this arranging and rearranging in here started because of how dark it was out in the Florida room.  And the fact that I realized that the windows would take tension rods so I wasn’t going to have to actually install anything.  That’s what got me started.  I made a cat quilt wall hanging for my mother years ago, and it found a home hanging over the ugly, metal trimmed window out there,  It looked cute, I thought.  But the unintended consequence was that it made the kitchen work space darker.  So take it down or figure out how to ‘dress’ that kitchen window? 04-08-19catquilt04-08-19HLshelvesI wasn’t sure I’d stick with this peg board until I came across two of my all time favorite pictures, one of Charley with a 4 pound lobster he ordered in Provincetown years ago, and the one of me making a very rude, and might I add out-of-character, gesture.  I believe they both were taken on the same trip home years ago.  I didn’t realize that I had copies of those pictures, and the bird photo holder that’s never held a photo must have been waiting for this moment.  We look so young.  So it’s still a little dark in that kitchen corner, but for now I’ll just turn the light on and enjoy the memory.  Charley in the kitchen is so appropriate, he was a great cook.  The puzzle pieces are still falling into place.  It may not be time to do the Hokey Pokey and turn myself around quite yet, but it’s getting there…04-08-19Docandme

home, home improvements, live and learn, losing it, perseverance, photography, technology, unintended consequences

April Fool’s…

This isn’t a post about Sandhill Crane chicks, and yes, there are two now.  Nope.  At this exact moment I have taken a lot of photos in the last few days, some of which are nice (I hope).  And they are in this computer, well, I downloaded them to the external hard drive, and I have figured out how to find them, and I think I have figured out how to get them to open in Lightroom from here on in.  At least I hope so.  But this picture took over an hour for me to find, and editing has been torture because every step brings up the dreaded twirly-whirly thing as the computer thinks about it and decides whether to cooperate with me or not.  So I get sick of it and get back to sewing, which then has me wandering the house looking for the scissors/screwdriver (I’m hanging curtains), etc. Whatever I had in my hands a second ago is now lost.  Always.  And the house is a wreck because I cannot do a home improvement project without making a mess.  Usually all this would send me out the door for more pictures but that hardly seems useful at this point.  There is an upside to all of this though.  You may remember me complaining over and over about losing the TV remote, or not, but it’s a theme of mine.  Well, I found them, six of them, and I took a picture, but that’s lost in this computer also.

So it’s April Fool’s Day… and the joke is on me…

Chinsegut Conservation Center, Florida landmarks, Florida wildlife, history, learning, live and learn, nature, perseverance, photography, technology, unintended consequences

History come to life…

I wasn’t expecting a history lesson when I went to join my photographer friends yesterday.  It was to be a hike, and I was welcome to join them.  They hike a LOT, and volunteer at the Chinsegut Conservation Center, and are currently editing/updating a history of the Chinsegut Hill property itself.  So our hike was on property that is not open to the public, but of course we were conscientious and didn’t leave anything behind us, or remove a thing, unless it was ticks.  After a hike they usually remark about how many ticks they have found on themselves afterwards, which is a big reason that I don’t join them often.  “Stay on the paths and you should be all right,” they said, and then the paths disappeared, and on we trudged.

The history lesson concerned the CCC, Civilian Conservation Corps, which I’d heard of but honestly knew nothing about, but I looked it up this morning.  This turned out to be the most popular New Deal program of the time, 1933-1942, and it provided unskilled manual labor for unmarried young men ages 17-28 during those difficult depression years.  They were provided with shelter, clothing, and food, plus a wage of $30/month, $25 of which was required to be sent back to their families.  They labored on lands owned by local, state, and federal governments, and this program was not only a boon to the men and their families, but also led to an appreciation of the outdoors, and the need to protect our national resources.  Chinsegut Hill benefitted from the labors of these men, who built the buildings on the property plus improved the wonderful acres of natural environment, preserving it to this day.  When Betty and Linda first saw this property it was old and worn, but in pristine condition, buildings intact, dishes on the table, a bible beside the toilet, and equipment in the fields.  As if people had just walked away.  But it was recently vandalized, windows broken, and the buildings are now locked.  As Betty said, nature is reclaiming what was hers in the beginning.

So now you know what you are looking at, if you have stuck with me this long.  And as I have written this it has occurred to me that I forgot to check myself for ticks.  Excuse me…03-26=2019CHINSEGUTHILLBROKENWINDOW03-26=2019ChinsegutHill503-26=2019ChinsegutHill403-26=2019CHINSEGUTHILL303-26=2019CHINSEGUTHILL203-26=2019CHINSEGUTHILL03-26=2019ChinsegutHilltruck

There were a lot more photos I still needed to go through, but I’ve just started saving them to my external hard drive.  It’s getting back to them that’s the problem.  But you get the point.