AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH. A long weekend away was just what I needed to disconnect myself from all the silliness I was getting bogged down in. As in, Sarah who? We went to Martha's Vineyard on Thursday afternoon. We drove down without hitting a smidgen of traffic and were on the ferry drinking an iced cold beer a little before 4:00. Yesssssss.
We checked into our hotel and then decided to upgrade our room to a residence suite. Okay by me!
We were right in the center of Edgartown and it was perfect for primo people-watching, not to mention highly convenient as far as being able to walk around to get coffee, bagels, dinner or snooping on people's private property. Man, there is SOOOOOOO much money out there. Unfathomable.
On Saturday Peter had a haircut smack in the middle of the day. I was a little irritated, as he does this all the time -- and I wandered around Vineyard Haven waiting for him, at first with not such an open mind. The first picture above I took when I was like ... yeah, killing time. Then I went into the public bathroom at the Steamship Authority and took the next picture. And questioned my sanity.
I wandered over to a small beach and looked around. Two boats caught my eye, and I began to photograph them.
Suddenly it all came back to me. How much I enjoy taking pictures. How much fun it is to frame a subject just so. I spent a half an hour taking pictures of this boat from every angle I could think of.
Suddenly the world became one photo opportunity after another. Everywhere I looked I could see bold color or crazy beauty. I hadn't felt so full of inspiration in a long time (thanks to that wench Sarah!) Yes, I know that letting silly things bother you is ... silly. But it did. I've had to really question the future of mankind and the actual fact that people believe that just anyone can run this country ... you betchya :::::wink::::::
With my joy of photography restored, we eventually ended up here, on our balcony, to people watch, sip cocktails and enjoy the late afternoon sun.
But the light ... oh the light. I couldn't stop seeing everything as a potential photograph, and kept snapping.
The dark sky with the patches of blue, contrasted against the whiteness of the buildings, with a smattering of green trees thrown in. Beautiful.
And then I stood up. Wow.
Here we are going over on the little ferry between Edgartown and Chappaquiddick. As you can see, it is an absolutely beautiful day.
A little over a year ago, there was a breach in the beach. Between the islands of Martha's Vineyard and Chappaquiddick there was a strip of beach that connected the two islands, as well as creating a barrier for Edgartown Harbor. The bay you see to the right of the next picture used to be fairly stagnant -- only getting an infusion of fresh seawater during high tide. It was actually kind of gross.
But the breach in the beach has created a completely different place. (Not to mention that tranquil Edgartown Harbor now gets such crazy tides flooding through it, that during the summer it is not uncommon for boats to hit each other on a daily basis.)
You can see how the water is eroding the beach, creating these fabulous contours.
There was a feeling, as we walked along this stretch of deserted beach, of perhaps witnessing something that was on borrowed time. As the waves lapped at the edge and small particles of sand spilled, like sand through an hourglass, into the ocean, you had to wonder. Was this beach an endangered species? Or would the winds and tides pull sand from another source and create an even stronger beach? I don't think anyone knows, but these birds, I believe they are piping plovers, were not in the least bit disturbed by my presence. And I was somewhat drawn to them in terms of getting a decent picture.
Such accommodating little fellers.
As I drew closer and closer to the funny little birds, I kept wondering how close they would let me get. I knew it was just a matter of time before I would get this ... and I am so glad that I caught it.
The little guys flew a few yards away and settled down with the bigger birds for protection, I guess!
I worked hard at capturing the perfect curl of the wave and the splash against the beach. Peter, at this point, was halfway back to the car. He does not find the same peace and wonder that I do on a beach. This was the far end of the strip of beach -- an edge of the breach -- and I knew without any doubt that this very spot will be gone soon. So I stood there for a while and thought about life and its overall impermanence and evolution -- you know, garden-variety thoughts for a beautiful Saturday! And the birds looked at me, and I looked at them, and we were both perfectly happy to share this small piece of real estate for a short while.
The following day we drove up to Aquinnah, which I am starting to call it, as opposed to Gay Head, which it used to be called. I don't know why, but the wild thing about this beach, which is one of my favorite places on this planet, is that you never know what to expect. When we were here this summer -- really, only weeks ago -- the entire beach was sand with only a scattering of rocks. And this is what it looked like this weekend. There were so many rocks I had a hard time finding the ones I wanted to take home. Normally they "speak" to me, but this time all I could hear was a dull roar and I was, in a word, overwhelmed.
It was really windy on the beach, but I could have spent hours there communing with the rocks. Peter took a load to the car while I continued to search, and I watched as a couple walked toward me. The woman was on the hard sand, looking for shells, while her husband saw that he was near the path that would lead them back to the parking lot. I could see relief in his face, and I glanced down at the woman, who was completely absorbed in her search. Her husband called to her several times, but he was shouting into the wind and she couldn't hear him. Then he picked up a rock and threw it so it landed near her. She jumped and looked up at him. I could see that she had been torn from her meditative state, and I gave the man a most disgusted look. He squirmed a little at the energy I was throwing his way and he beckoned to his wife. She came toward him and asked him what his problem was. He said it was time to go.
She asked why.
Of course he had no answer, and probably no other destination. All he knew was that he was done. Was there any other reason to stay?
Peter returned and asked me if I was ready. I asked him where we were going to go, why did we need to leave, what was the big hurry to get somewhere else? Since the couple was gone, he didn't understand the depth of my response, and instead turned and walked away from me muttering that I didn't need to freak out, we could stay all day if we wanted.
I laughed and resumed my enjoyment of my two favorite pasttimes -- collecting rocks and taking pictures of them.
It was a perfect weekend.
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