9.12.26 ~ Eastern Point Beach ring-billed gull with schooner on the horizon
Continuing with my gull photographs, and a few other things seen that amazing evening…
herring gull having fresh crab for dinner
gulp!
one of the Cross Sound ferries
red buoy and schooner
ring-billed gull and another Cross Sound ferry
I didn’t want this day to end
the one with a broken wing returned and followed me around while I was taking pictures of other things
delighted to find the rabbit-foot clover I discovered back in 2020, during the pandemic, is still clinging to the rocks
still following me
New London Harbor Light, across the Thames
strictly enforced in the summer
mouth of the Thames River
caught the light flashing on New London Harbor Light time to say good night and goodbye
I have my doubts that I will ever make it to this beloved beach again, so leaving was very sad. I follow the Eastern Point Beach’s Facebook group and see pictures others have taken often, but I have to say, nobody takes pictures of the gulls the way I have! I miss them and their different personalities so much.
Those of you who have been reading this blog for longer than three or four years know well my penchant for photographing gulls. I could never get enough of them, so when I got a chance on the quick trip to Connecticut I spent an evening with Beverly & John on Eastern Point Beach and took pictures to my heart’s content. This is where Tim & I used to spend our summer evenings, watching the sea birds and the boat traffic.
herring gull
an interesting pose
immature herring gull
schooner
this ring-billed had a broken wing
he must have flown off with the broken wing when we weren’t looking
They were all very cooperative about posing for me, even for close-ups. Another gallery to follow…
Here are the pictures from my delightful afternoon in Connecticut by the sea. Beverly, John and I took a long walk through the marsh and onto the beach, wandering along a side path first. Sadly, invasive phragmites have taken over and spoiled much of the view Tim & I enjoyed when we came here five years ago. See that post here: sunlight by the sea. And it wasn’t long before we found another invasive species landing on our clothing, the newly arrived spotted lanternfly. Sigh.
lichen covered glacial erratic
I have not included pictures of either of them, and have no pictures of the beach itself because it was covered with people! But we made the best of it and found many little treasures to appreciate.
on the John A. Scillieri, Jr. Overlook Wetlands path
On the trip up to Connecticut we came the “inland” route to avoid the city traffic, through the Blue Ridge and Poconos mountains. Lovely goldenrod was blooming in abundance along the highway.
goldenrod
John is a botanist so we learned a bit about the different kinds of marsh and dune grasses and how they occupy different zones, depending on if the marsh is receding away from the sea or staying in place for a while. It will be interesting to see how this marsh deals with climate change.
my first glimpse of a beach rose
beach rose
rose hips
I miss my beach roses and was so grateful to see a few on this walk. Lots of berries for migrating birds.
bittersweet
bayberry
rose hips
To avoid staring at people we walked the wrack line and found a few interesting items.
beads from a strand of seaweed
AI thinks this might be a cluster of translucent squid eggs attached to bits of seaweed
And of course, Beverly is a geologist so we found ourselves spending a lot of time at the glacial moraine at the end of the beach. In our younger years we might have been found climbing all over these boulders but decided to play it safe and not risk slipping and breaking any bones.
glacial moraine
Listening to the waves was soothing, and the more we looked around the more there was to observe.
algae on rock
algae on rock
beach pebbles and stones
On the way back we found more beach roses and a cute laughing gull standing on the sand far enough away from any person, making possible my only gull picture of the afternoon. There were some gulls flying overhead, but too fast for me to capture.
laughing gull
woodland sunflower
white wood aster
But, not to worry, we were headed for another beach after a couple of errands and refreshments. There were more than enough gulls there, with no people around, to keep me happy for a couple of hours.
Death leaves Us homesick, who behind, Except that it is gone Are ignorant of it’s Concern As if it were not born.
Through all their former Places, we Like Individuals go Who something lost, the seeking for Is all that’s left them, now —
~ Emily Dickinson (The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #1066)
It is often said that grief comes in waves, and I would add that some of those surges are more intense than others. On September 12th I finally made it up to Connecticut to the cemetery to see installed the flat granite grave marker I designed and ordered for Tim and me. Traveling with chronic radiation proctitis isn’t a pleasant experience, to say the least, but I felt compelled to make an effort to see for myself our final resting place.
Elm Grove Cemetery is an exceptionally beautiful cemetery running along the Mystic River, and the view from our ancestral plot is lovely. It was established in 1853, and my 2nd-great-grandfather, William Martin White (1836-1925), purchased a large plot for his family. He had buried there his former father-in-law and mother-in-law, Robinson & Lydia Hill; his own parents, Austin & Lucy Ann (Thompson) White; his grandparents, Oliver & Lydia White; and his 16-year-old son, James Courtland White, who died from a gunshot wound. William lies buried there with his second wife, Martha Bennett. We don’t know where his first wife, Ellen Hill, my 2nd-great-grandmother, is buried, or whatever happened to her after they were divorced in 1876. When Larisa inquired she learned there was still space enough to bury our ashes there, too, since I am a direct descendant, and could prove it. Tim & I spent most of our married life nearby and so this seemed like the perfect place for us to end up.
Part of the rural cemetery movement, of the mid-nineteenth century, Elm Grove represents the Victorian approach to eternal rest in a park setting of rolling hills, brooks, and trees, showcasing ornate sepulchers decorated with flowers, willow trees, crowns, and trumpeting figures. ~ Elm Grove Cemetery Association webpage
It was a bittersweet day, as so many wonderful things happened but of course, I deeply missed having Tim to share them with. My son and daughter-in-law, Nate & Shea, had driven me up and after we visited the cemetery we met my sister and brother-in-law, Beverly & John, at an old favorite family seafood shack, Dad’s Restaurant, in Niantic. To our surprise, it had been beautifully renovated in our absence! The new deck for eating outside was higher than the old one, so we could see over the elevated railroad tracks out over Long Island Sound. Did I mention the weather was perfect that day? And they have the best fish and chips in the world, in my opinion, and I enjoyed every morsel.
After our lunch Nate took Shea to visit her relatives while Beverly, John, and I took a long nature walk through a marsh and up and down the beach it led to. Later, we wound up at Eastern Point Beach, “our beach,” and sat for a couple of hours on the bench where Tim & I used to spend our summer evenings. I went wild taking pictures of the gulls. (450 pictures on the camera for the one day!) The day already feels like a distant sweet dream now. I hope to write two more posts with pictures of these two adventures soon.
I chose the Dickinson poem above because I think she used the word homesick aptly to describe what grief can feel like. But the home we yearn for, our person, is gone, missing as if he never existed. And I could identify with the second stanza, feeling lost, as I visited some of the former places we so often used to be at together. I think I will never stop seeking Tim. Last night in line at the grocery store I was overcome with a strong urge to turn to him and rest my head on his shoulder, as I often did, and to receive a comforting hug. (Grocery shopping has ever been exhausting for me.) I never know when another wave will sweep over me. But I’m glad I went and have found some peace from being there.
5.14.26 ~ Elm Grove Cemetery, Mystic, Connecticut photo by Larisa
It rained all day on May 14th. I didn’t take a single picture for the entire day. But I’m glad Larisa captured this last moment Finn had with his Grandpa, checking to see how heavy his ashes were. The two of them shared a birthday and were two peas in a pod. I will never forget how much fun it was to watch them playing together.
I chose to bury Tim’s ashes in Elm Grove Cemetery because it is located in the county where we lived for 47 years of our marriage, and because the plot was purchased by my 2nd-great-grandfather, who lies buried there with his own parents and great-grandparents and other relations. They all also lived in southeastern Connecticut, and there is still room there to bury ashes, so it seemed like a good choice. Tim & I took many walks in this beautiful cemetery, which sits on the banks of the Mystic River, just north of Mystic Seaport.
We may fear change or we may embrace it, but the planets turn, life goes on, the Great Cycles continue. These cycles move Nature and our lives through death and rebirth, through containment and release, through holding and letting go. The seed pod tightens and hardens around its precious cargo, then it breaks and releases the new life into the waiting earth. ~ Philip Carr-Gomm (Inspiration for Life, May 25, 2026)
image credit: Wolf Rock Nature Preserve website
Later in the day we all drove up to Wolf Rock in Mansfield, our northeastern Connecticut hometown, to scatter some of Tim’s ashes along with the remaining ashes he had kept of his brother, Toby. Still raining, it was a quarter-mile hike up very rocky and very muddy terrain through the woods to the glacial erratic where Tim and his brothers used to hang out as teens. Tim and Josh scattered some of Toby’s ashes here in December 2013, but now Dan, Matt and Jed had a chance to be here to scatter the rest of them.
The next day, on May 15th, we held an afternoon celebration of life at the Zbierski House at “our” little city beach. Besides the family, we were now joined by old friends and neighbors and lots of Tim’s buddies from the ham radio clubs he belonged to. It was wonderful. I had spent weeks working on a slide show of Tim’s life which was playing on a TV continuously and started many pleasant conversations and quite a few trips down memory lane…
photo by Jenn
Below is one of my favorite pictures, taken before the first heart attack and the battle with heart disease began. The fun, empty nest, middle-aged period of our lives. He was 51 and only just beginning to go gray…
Tim in our kitchen, 2004
Zbierski House at Eastern Point Beach ~ photo by Jenn
I feel more settled now that Tim’s ashes have been returned to the earth and that his family got to be together to say good-bye. The trip was grueling for me physically but somehow I made it and the emotional healing was worth the effort. I’m still incredibly sad and lonely for him but am learning how to carry the grief. How to take walks without him pointing things out to me…
I think my last hurdle will be resuming family history research. It’s going to be hard not having him in the next room, doing ham radio stuff, but always ready to drop everything when I came in to share new discoveries with him. I still have those last three boxes to go through… And several other projects waiting in line…
12.31.25 ~ Hemlock Bluffs Nature Preserve Cary, North Carolina
As many of my readers know, I grew up surrounded by hemlock trees in Connecticut and miss having them in my life very much. I heard of this place not long after we moved down here but Tim & I never managed to visit it. So, while my sister and her husband were here for eleven days over the holidays a good day arrived, we packed a lunch, and then headed out to see these remarkable hemlock trees.
galax (aka beetleweed, wand flower), an Appalachian mountain native
Hemlock Bluffs is a special place because the north-facing bluffs combine with cool air from a creek below to create a “mountain” microclimate which the hemlocks favor. Sadly, here too they are plagued by the hemlock wooly adelgid but they are being monitored and treated for this insect pest here in this protected preserve.
We headed for East Hemlock Bluffs first and soon found ourselves descending from the top of the bluff over 100 boardwalk steps down to the level of Swift Creek. It was exciting seeing the trees from different elevations, and reminded me of the way the trees looked as I was climbing them in my childhood.
Swift Creek down below
evergreen Christmas fern also loves the moist shaded slopes of woodlands along streams
Swift Creek
…always my marcescent beech leaves…
the most I could capture of a whole hemlock tree
After climbing back up those 100+ stairs we headed over to West Hemlock Bluffs. There weren’t as many steps going down this bluff, but the descent was steeper.
a portion of the steps at West Hemlock Bluff
We were surprised to see a huge holly tree down below. I was amazed to be eye-level with the crown and took a few pictures with the zoom lens. I wondered if this was an American holly which is common here, or a mountain holly, since we were in that microclimate. But I learned that mountain hollies are deciduous so it’s probably an American holly, and probably was about 60 feet tall.
Beech Tree Cove was at the bottom of this end of the bluff and there we noticed a huge fallen beech tree. (below) I also learned that older beech trees do lose their leaves in the winter; it’s the younger ones that keep them in the cold months.
a small section of huge beech
the stump of the fallen beech
a beech grove, the younger ones save their leaves over winter
Back at the park entrance and the Stevens Nature Center they had three hemlock trees in the courtyard, some with those tiny cones I adored as a child. And, while Beverly & John were still inside looking at the center’s exhibits, I waited outside for them.
That’s when a friendly squirrel approached me with a message from Tim. He stayed with me for a few minutes, looking at me intently, and then, comforting tidings delivered, took off.
It was wonderful having my sister with me for so many days. We took three very long walks, hosted three holiday gatherings, and even went to the movies and saw Hamnet. Of course, there were tears of grief at times, and it was good sharing those, too.
The last time Tim & I walked here was in October, eleven days before he died. We had finally got our hands on a good map of the maze of trails in Carolina North Forest and were excited to be more sure of the names of them. The leaves were still green. (see here: suspended)
a moss covered burl
This time my sister and her husband were my companions, but I walked a little ahead of them on this leg of Tripp Farm Trail, quietly talking with Tim, telling him how much I missed him and how sad I was that we missed seeing the autumn colors together in November as we had anticipated.
greenshield lichen
When we got to the place where Tim & I had turned around to retrace our steps, the three of us decided to continue following the trail. Much to my surprise, we eventually reached an intersection with the OWASA Corridor at the same bridge I came to with my friends back in November. (see here: remains of a colonial gristmill)
And now I’ve learned that the path I often follow in the woods along Bolin Creek near my home is called the OWASA (Orange Water & Sewer Authority) Corridor. Well, we learn something new every day.
Bolin Creek view downstream from the bridge
Instead of going to see the colonial gristmill ruins we decided to take another route. We took the Glade Spur, which connects Tripp Farm Trail and Maytag Trail, which we followed back to the main road and the car. The three trails essentially made a big loop.
A couple of years ago, in November 2023, Tim & I found a little pumpkin sitting on a stone on the Wormhole Spur. (see here: moderate drought in the woods) I bet the same person placed another one here in this branch crook on the Glade Spur.
the work of a passerby?
While on the Glade Spur a couple coming from the opposite direction said they had just seen a pileated woodpecker. It’s so hard to see so high up in these trees but a few minutes later I did hear one and then spotted it. The picture I got is cropped and basically a silhouette, but it will have to do.
pileated woodpecker
Not sure how far we walked but we were gone for a couple of hours. We were exhausted when we got back to the car and wound up staying in to recuperate the next day, which turned out to be a gloomy day anyway.
“I’ve never seen this before!” exclaimed my sister Beverly, the geologist. It didn’t look like much to me but she was clearly excited by this apparently remarkable formation (above) she noticed here on her first walk in North Carolina with me. She explained to us that it is a pallid zone with a saprolite layer underneath it.
sweetgum branches and twigs under a covering of gray clouds
It was the day after Christmas, which had been “hot” with record temperatures in the 70s. But on this day it was back down in the 50s and very gray, raw and chilly. I took Beverly and her husband John down to walk at length up Bolin Creek.
the essence of marcescence (beech leaves)
a feral muscovy duck in Bolin Creek
I rarely find a bird to photograph on this walk because they are singing way far up in the tall trees. So I was very surprised to come across a feral muscovy duck sitting on a log in the creek, watching the world go by. He kept an eye on me, but didn’t move, as I photographed him from three different spots along the creek bank.
taken from another angle
and yet another angle
I haven’t seen too many squirrels this fall and winter and have been wondering why that is. This one was the only one I saw sitting still, although just a couple of others were later seen racing up the trees.
eastern gray squirrel
‘are you looking at me?’
We went on to discover fungi, lichens, and unusual burls. (There are no loblolly pines in New England.)
bracket fungus
unusual circular burl on a loblolly pine
on retracing our steps we found the muscovy duck in the water
beard lichen with apothecia (a cup-shaped or saucer-like fungal fruiting body)
beard lichen growing with greenshield lichen (?) on a fallen branch
It was good getting out for some fresh air and a good long walk, and having the chance to show my nature-loving sister and brother-in-law a little bit of the different world down south here.
My sister estimates they got 9 inches of snow from Tuesday’s nor’easter, which left a winter wonderland behind it. I loved the pictures she sent me from the woods surrounding our childhood home.
eastern hemlock
the birds have found food here since the 1960s
the shed my father built more than 60 years ago
the wheelchair ramp my son and brother-in-law built for my father in the 2000s (the house my parents built is barely visible behind it)
