Archive for July, 2014

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One of the things I love about summer is a walk on the beach. One of the things I don’t love about summer is a walk on the beach when it is crowded!

So I set out early this morning to go for a quiet and FREE walk on the beach, before they start charging $10-$15 to park.

There were some clouds this morning, but it was quite pleasant. When I arrived and started my walk, I saw one woman all set up, enjoying the quiet time, along with a few joggers.


The Beach is Quiet if You Go Early

As three joggers passed me, the sun began to break through the clouds.

Three Joggers on the Beach

Three Joggers on the Beach


sun Breaking Through the Clouds on the Beach

The Sun Woke up and Powered Through the Clouds

There were some kayakers out on the water, and one lone kayak still on the beach…maybe someone didn’t show up?

kayak on the beach

A Lone Empty Kayak

Even the seagulls seemed to be enjoying their solitary time.

Beach with solitary seagull

A Solitary Gull Enjoys the Low Tide

By the time I finished my walk, there were more people staking out their spots for the day. It was low tide and experienced beach-goers know that when the tide comes in, there will be very little sand left, so they pick a spot by the sea wall. Maybe they went to get coffee or breakfast???

beach umbrellas and chairs

Umbrellas and Chairs Set Up for High Tide and the Day Ahead

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tree with knitting

Oops…I guess I’m overdressed

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old tree

Ancient Tree at Mount Auburn

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As someone who has WAY too much stuff, I’m always interested in containers. Not your average plastic containers, but “artsy” containers, though I don’t always put anything in them! This is a photo of one of my favorites.

wooden box

Wooden Turtle Box

This turtle box used to sit on my grandmother’s coffee table. It now sits on one of mine.

Every time I look at it, I see her living room in my mind: my grandfather’s green vinyl chair in the corner where he smoked his cigars and read the paper, and the floor lamp with three bulbs covered with plaid shades behind it. Across the room was the couch nobody sat on except a couple of dolls and the stuffed bunny with a dress that someone made for my grandmother. (I was sad that the bunny got thrown out…I definitely would have treasured that.) On the other wall, two armchairs people actually did sit on, most notably my grandmother who would be quietly crocheting in one while my grandfather sat reading his paper across from her. In front of the couch was the coffee table, the home of the turtle box. I don’t know who gave it to her or why. I would guess from the size and era of it, it was supposed to be a cigarette box, but of course we all know a container’s purpose is limited only by its size and its owner’s imagination.

This turtle has a very worthy purpose…don’t let it fool you. It may appear to be empty, but it is full of my memories.

wooden turtle box

Inside the Turtle Box


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soccer balls

Soccer Weary?

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I love to see the remnants or relics of the past still hanging around. As if these things have a spirit and won’t give up. They linger like ghosts. I have a certain admiration for that.

Recently I was surprised to stumble upon this old piece of farm equipment in a public park. Why didn’t those who created the park get rid of it? It was intriguing to me to see this trace of civilization in a beautiful natural setting.

Old Piece of Farm Equipment Left in a Park

Old Piece of Farm Equipment Left in a Park

I’m similarly drawn to the remnants of old docks. The leftover pilings remind me of grave markers in the water.

Pilings Left From an Old Dock

Pilings Left From an Old Dock

With salt water especially, it is hard to make things last. If maintenance is not done vigilantly, nature will reclaim what is hers. Leaving behind just the remnants of someone’s attempts to take something that didn’t belong to them, making me wonder about a past I can now only imagine.

Old Dock Pilings

Peeling Paint on a Railing, with Remnants of an Old Dock



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Book of Life

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The Cool Shade of a Birch Grove by the Sea

I feel like a fairy hiding in a basket of birches woven along the shoreline…

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