Tall Ship, (sort-of), Mac Millan Wharf, Provincetown
This line from John Masefield has always been resonant to me, since long before this Michigander ever encountered an ocean. It continues, “…the lonely sea, and the sky… and all I ask is a tall ship… and a star to steer her by”
Walking the Plank, Brewster Marsh, Wing Trail at Low Tide
I’m just back from a place of seas, bays, sounds, creeks where ‘herrings’ (alewives) ‘run’ (swim in forceful schools) in the spring, limitless marshlands crossed on planks. Yes, I even encountered a tall ship or two, matters piratical, and wild Provincetown and other Cape interpretations of Hallowe’en, as you know from the previous post.
“Down to the Sea”, Harbormaster’s Life Preserver and Antique Salvaged Anchor, Provincetown Wharf
Those among my NJWILDBEAUTY readers who know me personally, know that my major haven, when I had a family, was Chatham, Massachusetts. West Chatham, Harding’s Beach, to be exact. A tiny grey-shingled single-floored house on Nantucket Sound, from which I could walk the beach from morning til night, down to Stage Harbor Light. Sometimes, we’d even do it by moonlight. Once, the girls and I even swam it, just to see if we could. We could.
From Harding’s Beach to Stage Harbor Light, Chatham, Mass.
Some of you also know that I lost both my beloved, beautiful, and yes, brilliant (they always want the best and the brightest) daughters to an aggressive cult during the 1980’s. Brainwashing appears to be permanent.
Cults are worse than any Hallowe’en drama — turning all treats for the remainder of life to tricks and/or tragedy.
But beautiful places, strong fellowship, and determined creating of new memories can serve as antidote.
‘Our’ Home for Seven Weeks Each Late Summer in the 1970’s and 80’s, but tripled in size now…
I know because I braved Chatham return with two of The Intrepids last week.
‘Our’ Road, Heading toward South Chatham and Harwich, unchanged…
That idyllic place was everything I needed, and THEN some.
First View, Evening Arrival, Taylor Pond Cottage, South Chatham
First Sunset, Taylor Pond Cottage, South Chatham
You’ll be traveling Chatham and Brewster and Provincetown shores and streets with me in the weeks of this difficult month of the girls’ birthdays.
Fellowship is EVERYTHING!
Carolyn Yoder beachcombing at Hardint’s Beach at High Tide
Jeanette Hooban following brant flock at Brewster Beach of Paine’s Lane, at High Tide
It’s funny — seems like it was always high tide when we arrived at destinations. True friends can re-think, rearrange, re-plan, and relish every nuance, no matter where, because we’re together.
Ur-Lobster Roll, Quintessential Cole Slaw, The Lobster Pot, Provincetown
Haven at Land’s End
Lobster, Avocado and Mango with Sauteed Baguette, The Lobster Pot, Provincetown
You could call our meals “Early Thanksgivings” — especially the Wellfleet Oysters!
Rainy-Day Haven, Chatham
Early for Lunch
Memorable Oysters, Impudent Oyster, Chatham Bars Ave., Chatham
The above was a meal as predicted drizzle began to sift from oyster skies, after a morning of seeing seals beyond counting upon ‘Chatham bars’, — a major sandbar below the main Chatham lighthouse.
Chatham Light, Storm Appropriately Brewing
I hope some of the scintillation of my Cape Cod return flashes all around you as you view upcoming mages and read scant words.
Last Fire, Taylor Pond Cottage, South Chatham
I hope that having gone “down to the sea again” with us reminds NJWILDBEAUTY readers of their own major reasons to be thankful that such luminous places persist in our 21st Century.
There may be no more important concept in our time than PRESERVATION.