MEMORY OF A NORTH BAY SUNSET

Ok so maybe I'm procrastinating. Dragging my feet a little. Eking out the summertime memories here. I don't think anyone would blame me, but just in case, I did have some excuses planned for you (last weekend I was in Connecticut, the weekend before I was in Istanbul. Truly strange but truly true!)

But forget all that. Because honestly, in my mind's eye, I hope I will always be right here on this beach, on this gentle August evening, ginger beers that would become dark and stormies gently rolling in surf, with this on the tapedeck and sand up to my ankles and nothing left to do but build a bonfire and watch the sun going down, over the ocean, as it should be, for ever and always.

UP THE MOUNTAIN

No island summer is complete without at least one trip up to Pt. Disney, the top of our rock. Time after time I walk down that same dirt road and along the curves of that same well-worn footpath, and time after time, coming 'round that final bend, the view never fails to catch me off guard. You can't help but get a little still, a little stupefied. There's just so damn much of it. 

Bumping back down the mountain, blasting the tape deck and eating handfuls of sun-melted trail mix like no tomorrow, we stopped by the airstrip on the way home and came across an old airplane waiting patiently for her owner.

PEEP SHOW

My family's land is beautiful, and being only about half a mile inland, on a quiet night you can hear the surf crashing down on the beach in North Bay. Even so, I remain more than a little jealous of those folks who have managed to snap up a piece of waterfront property. To wake up and see the sea in your front yard, to watch the sun set over the other dusky blue humps and take a moonlit stroll on the shore at a minute's notice? That would be a bit of all right, all right.

Every winter, I tend to get a bit restless at some point and take off from home for a walk that usually ends in a bit of light trespassing. Our sweet but short warmer months tend to attract a lot of vacationers in the summer whose houses then stand empty for the better part of the year, and it's pretty irresistible to go peeping at the windows of some of these places now and then. They run the gamut from multi-story, sterile monstrosities to cozy little cabins--the one pictured above being my very favorite and of the latter variety. Built decades ago by relatives of one of the oldest families on the island, it has everything you could ever need to live a comfortable, quiet life: a bedroom, a loft, a modern gas range and hand-operated water pump in the kitchen, a wood stove for heating, a beach-combed collection of delicately salted shells and other pale detritus, and a piano. And, a huge set of windows facing a wild, watery, ever-changing amphitheatre. I fantasize that some day I will have the means and the opportunity to buy, or even just rent it for a week...but until then, it's the art of the snoop for me.

WINTER VACATION 2012

I finally got three rolls of film developed last week, and suddenly I feel like I have more photos than I know what to do with! Some of them have been sent off on secret missions, a few are waiting in reserve for a special announcement, but until then I will get on with sharing the rest.

We may not have a had white Christmas, but I did have a white winter vacation this year. It was the first time most of those ducks had ever seen ice or snow, and hi-jinks ensued. Ducks are so dang cute, I think these guys may have put me off chickens forever. I spent a lot of time lurking around the house, taking pictures of my Mom's weaving studio, my growing stack of National Geographics. We also did a good bit of bushwhacking and trail building in the woods around our place, and I still have the blackberry vine marks around my ankles where they got in above my socks and worked their mischief. The water was snow-blue and everything was still crusted in white the morning I left. By the time I see my homeland again, winter will have miraculously turned to mid-summer and the garden will be blooming.

the sun machine is coming down

Here it is, the last round of photos from my sweet, sweet summer vacation. Well, I do still have three rolls of Super8 film waiting to be developed and processed...but given the current state of my finances, it could be an awful long time until that stuff sees the light of day (especially since once you go hi-def, you really can't go back!)

These are mostly from our boating and camping trip to a smaller outlying island called Patos, as well as some shots of Dag's beautiful home. The last roll, the one that never caught, was filled with more shots of her cabin and her magical witchy cat Zowie. Too bad, so sad.

The first set of photos can be found here, as well as a few more on my flickr :n )

a pink canary

Round one of photos from my trip home in July and August, taken with a Canon AE-1 Program on Western Family brand film (heh!) There's a few more on my flickr as well :n )

I had forgotten, as I always do, how much the start of autumn in New York feels like summertime in the islands--simultaneously making me happy and (even more) homesick.