They all worship the sea. But not me. I like to be near it but I’m afraid of it. It’s so powerful. ~ Emma Freeman Thompson White (Katie’s maternal great-great-grandmother)
As I watched my granddaughter contemplating this powerful sea my thoughts turned to these words my grandmother wrote to my mother when she was passing on her memories for the next generation. My grandmother’s father, grandfather, and great-grandfather were all sea captains. (And many of her other ancestors were, too.) The “they” she was referring to were her ancestors.
My grandmother’s words resonated with me because I feel the same way she did about the sea. She always told me the sea was in my blood, but I never had the desire to sail the seas the way my ancestors did. Like my grandmother, I did want to be near it, but safe on land!
These pictures were taken with my cell phone Sunday morning before we left for our trip home. I haven’t seen such high waves in a very long time! My app said they were 4′-6′ high. I’m pretty sure the tiny birds were sandpipers and there were dozens of them darting quickly around between the crashing waves. They were only about 6 inches long. I zoomed the cell phone camera as much as I could but they came out fuzzy. Well, at least I have my memories!
If wrecked opon the Shoal of Thought How is it with the Sea? The only Vessel that is shunned Is safe — Simplicity — ~ Emily Dickinson (The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #1503)
10.10.26 ~ Bodie Island Lighthouse Cape Hatteras National Seashore, Outer Banks, North Carolina
great egret
The only full day of our visit to the Outer Banks was wet. I only took my camera out of its protective case once, in the afternoon when we visited the Bodie Island Lighthouse. There is a nature trail on a boardwalk extending out into the marsh from the lighthouse site. At the end there are stairs up to a viewing platform that had a roof overhead. So I took out the camera and got a great picture of the lighthouse and another one of a great egret that was hunting in the marsh below. The camera got wet anyway because a breeze blew the rain under the roof. I dried it off as best I could.
I was so glad I invested in a good raincoat earlier this year. (I had made good use of it before, as it rained all day when we buried Tim’s ashes.) Even though I couldn’t take pictures it was a joy to be able to watch my Katie be captivated by all the crabs she spotted in the water, skittering around on the mud between mounds of marsh grasses.
One goal I had when I was younger was to visit every national seashore. Life got in the way, but I was happy to add Cape Hatteras N.S. to the ones I have been to, Cumberland Island N.S., Assateague Island N.S., and of course, Cape Cod N.S.
In the morning we had visited the Wright Brothers National Memorial. I was awed to be standing on the grounds where those historic first four flights took place. They had markers where the plane landed, with the distance of the flight, how long it took, and who flew it. They took turns, Orville went first, so I’m guessing that is Wilbur watching in the photo below. They wanted this sandy spot so they could have soft landings. Each flight was a little farther and my Finn decided we would walk the distance to see all four markers. The fourth flight, with Wilbur, went 852 feet and lasted 59 seconds.
17 December 1903 ~ First flight of the Wright Brothers. They were the first men in history to fly a controlled, powered airplane. image credit: U.S. National Park Service
I’m relying on photos donated to Wikimedia Commons to remember the rest of the day. More walking, it was a half-mile walk from where the flights happened to the 60 foot tall monument that was built in 1932 on top of Kill Devil Hill. About 95 feet above sea level, the hill was a huge sand dune where the brothers conducted their glider experiments. What a view there was up there! And then half a mile back to the visitor center, which was full of interesting artifacts and historical information on the whole Wright family.
Wright Brothers National Memorial image credit: Yuming Huang (2017)
After all that walking we returned to our vacation rental for lunch and then headed down to see the lighthouse. After the lighthouse we drove farther south, enjoying the breathtaking scenery. I had no idea that Pea Island National Wildlife Refuge was next to the national seashore! Driving over the bridge in the picture below (I think) we could see these spectacular dunes. (Again, due to the rain I’m borrowing someone else’s pictures.) It was getting late so we pulled into a road to turn around, and that’s when I saw the sign for the wildlife refuge. I have often heard birders raving about this place. According to AI, it is “a world-renowned birding hotspot that has recorded over 370 bird species.” Well, I hope I can come back here and explore someday!!!
sand dunes by Ken Lund (2014) Pea Island National Wildlife Refuge, Outer Banks, North Carolina
And so another wonderful day ended with supper, working on puzzles, and enjoying some good conversations, followed by another good night of sleep.
10.9.26 ~ Ashville Drive Beach Kill Devil Hills, Outer Banks, North Carolina
When we arrived at our vacation rental in Kill Devil Hills Friday evening we brought in our luggage and then walked straight down to the beach. Before we even got over the dune or saw any waves, grandson Finn spotted a little crab on the walkway, perfectly disguised in the sand.
Standing out on the beach was a sculpture someone had left. I’m guessing the 26 stands for 2026 but I can’t decipher the other bits. Katie couldn’t make sense of it, either.
the two dots on the right are my grandchildren
pretty clam shell
slightly bigger clam shell
walkway over the dune
I spent a lot of time watching three willets hanging out somewhat close to me. The lighting wasn’t great, it being evening and cloudy with the outer bands of Hurricane Isaias over us. The sea was relatively calm, but a day and a half later there would be some impressive waves here.
willet
The woods are never solitary — they are full of whispering, beckoning, friendly life. But the sea is a mighty soul, forever moaning of some great, unshareable sorrow, which shuts it up into itself for all eternity. We can never pierce its infinite mystery — we may only wander, awed and spellbound, on the outer fringe of it. The woods call to us with a hundred voices, but the sea has one only — a mighty voice that drowns our souls in its majestic music. ~ Lucy Maud Montgomery (Anne’s House of Dreams)
It felt so good being by the sea again. There’s something about that salt in the air and the sound of the waves that is so healing. I slept very well that night.
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…
5.11.26 ~ Race Point Beach, Provincetown, Massachusetts photo by Jon
In May I took a whirlwind trip to Cape Cod and Connecticut to scatter and bury Tim’s ashes. Five intense days of sharing memories and enjoying the family and friends and activities that Tim used to love. It’s taking me a while to recover but I’ve decided to share a few pictures here to help me remember.
Nate and me ~ photo by Jon
On May 11th, 27 of us headed out to Race Point Beach in Provincetown where I scattered some of Tim’s ashes on the beach where he spent many of the happiest days of his life. Tim’s brother Dan shared stories of their childhood adventures in P’town. And many in the gathering took turns spontaneously sharing their favorite memories. Moments after I scattered Tim’s ashes, we heard the particular call of a laughing gull flying overhead, gently reminding me of Tim’s wonderful sense of humor.
laughing gull ~ photo by Jon
While we were there we took advantage of the opportunity, with all of Tim’s remaining brothers gathered, Dan, Matt, Jed, and Josh, to scatter some of their father’s ashes. Erik had died back in 2008 and also had close ties to Provincetown. And Tim’s cousin Allegra scattered some of her mother’s ashes there on the sand, too. Her mother was Tim’s beloved Aunt Delorma, who died in January, only three months after him.
We all have such happy memories of vacationing at the family home in Provincetown. The current owner of 180 Bradford St. was very gracious to allow us to leave two memorial blown glass hearts in the garden. Allegra sculpted them, with some of their ashes inside, the red one is Tim’s.
The next day, Fran, Allegra and I had an amazing family history adventure, locating 72B Commercial St., where Tim and Dan’s 2nd-great-grandparents, Elijah & Zipporah Rodgers had lived. When Tim and Dan were kids they were taken to the house and met the widow of his great-granduncle, Capt. Neadom Oscar Rodgers (1876-1953), Aunt Lil, and Neadom’s son Oscar. (Oscar was Aunt Lil’s stepson.) Allegra was also taken there, as a very small child, on a separate occasion. Tim showed me the place on our honeymoon but my memory of its location got very fuzzy.
As we were checking it out a man came down the grass-covered lane it was located on and, after explaining who I was, I asked him a few questions. One thing led to another and the next thing we knew we were sitting in the dining room of an elderly neighbor who has lived there his whole life and remembered Aunt Lil Rodgers and playing in the lane. Aunt Lil died in 1979. The information we got from him led me to find more information about the house and its occupants online.
That afternoon I took a walk on Beech Forest Trail with my sons and nieces and nephew and some of their spouses. (No one in my generation was up for the hike!) I told them the story of Tim & me taking this walk on our honeymoon, and how we took it again after getting our first digital camera in 2009. The picture of the squirrel on the sidebar of this blog came from that walk, and was my first taste of enjoying nature photography. Sadly, this time, I, and some of the others, came back with a tick.
Beech Forest Trail
I’m thinking the universe may be trying to tell me that fewer nature walks and more genealogy research will be my new direction in life…
At the end of this mile-long loop walk my sons discovered a poem by one of my favorite poets under glass on the top of a picnic table. They brought me back to see it and it seemed like a beautiful reflection of my mood about the changes in focus I’m going through in my life.
For example, what the trees do not only in lightning storms or the watery dark of a summer’s night or under the white nets of winter but now, and now, and now – whenever we’re not looking. Surely you can’t imagine they don’t dance, from the root up, wishing to travel a little, not cramped so much as wanting a better view, or more sun, or just as avidly more shade – surely you can’t imagine they just stand there loving every minute of it, the birds or the emptiness, the dark rings of the years slowly and without a sound thickening, and nothing different unless the wind, and then only in its own mood, comes to visit, surely you can’t imagine patience, and happiness, like that. ~ Mary Oliver (Can You Imagine?)
4.21.26 ~ George & Julia Brumley Family Nature Preserve
On our way back to the car after a walk at Brumley North, Sally and I were delighted to encounter two male indigo buntings perched in a tree alongside our path. The one in the first and second pictures, taken from two different angles, was easier to spot. The one in the third picture was well hidden.
We heard several birds we hoped to see, like a white-eyed vireo and a catbird, but never managed to find them. We did see a few cardinals, white-throated sparrows, titmice, and Carolina wrens. Little did we know what surprise was waiting for us at the end of our walk. It was a lovely day with a cool breeze and lots of green on the trees.
Sometimes I think that the point of birdwatching is not the actual seeing of the birds, but the cultivation of patience. Of course, each time we set out, there’s a certain amount of expectation that we’ll see something, maybe even a species we’ve never seen before, and that it will fill us with light. But even if we don’t see anything remarkable — and sometimes that happens — we come home filled with light anyway. ~ Lynn Thomson (Birding with Yeats: A Memoir)
Stony Creek
northern cardinal
blue corporal dragonfly
crabapple blossoms
fleabane
lyreleaf sage
black vulture
Canada goose sitting on her nest
American crow
yellow-bellied slider
beaver dam
It was good being outside again and while I enjoy taking and sharing pictures, to find the words to narrate the experience seems a little overwhelming. My grieving seems to have entered a new phase, where my brain is catching up with my body. (I was told it isn’t unusual to be in shock for six months after the death of a spouse.) It almost feels like anesthesia wearing off now. The fog clearing and numbness giving way to feelings of a deeper ache, a wound trying to heal. Understanding more clearly what has happened. That this is permanent. Thank goodness for friends and family listening to me and helping me through — I could never do this alone.
1.12.26 ~ Jordan Lake State Recreation Area (Ebenezer Church Day-Use Area) Apex, North Carolina
On a cold January day Sally drove me out to explore one of her favorite birding spots. When we got to Jordan Lake the first thing I saw was a solitary great blue heron. It didn’t seem to be fishing or doing anything in particular, so I took lots of photos before it finally decided to slowly saunter away.
great blue heron
Jordan Lake is a 13,940-acre man-made reservoir with 180 miles of shoreline. The Piedmont here in North Carolina has no natural lakes. There are plenty of rivers and creeks, though, and a few temporary, very small, beaver ponds.
gull
There were some gulls flying around way out in the middle of the lake, and the one above bobbing along the ripples. Too far away to identify. But, much to my delight, when my eyes came back to the shoreline, they landed on a killdeer! Like the heron, it didn’t seem to be occupied doing anything. I finally stopped waiting for it to do something and continued walking along the shore.
killdeer
late afternoon winter sunlight across the lake
Sally pointed out a clump of greenery way up in a bare branched tree. My guess was mistletoe and it turns out it was indeed American mistletoe. I had no idea there are 1500 species of mistletoe.
American mistletoe
Way up in another tree a goldfinch was singing from its perch. A little too far up for my camera, even with the zoom.
American goldfinch
a wind gust beneath its wings
After our long walk along the lakeshore we took a mile-long loop trail into the woods, hoping to see ducks in the ponds, but we were out of luck on that idea.
a pond on the Ebenezer Church Trail
It was nice being around so much water even though it’s not quite the same as the seashore’s salt water and air, which I still miss! And I didn’t realize that some killdeer do live their entire lives far inland, thousands of miles from the ocean. Always more to learn…
