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…
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.
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…
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?)
Beverly (9), Skipper (new Sheltie puppy), Barbara (10) off-season on a Dennis, Cape Cod beach, 1967
On Monday I finished boxes #9 and #10 of the 14 family history boxes I’m going through. #9 had taken about a month, but #10 only took an afternoon, being mostly books which were either shelved or dispatched. Above and below are two of the photo treasures I found. So many fond memories taking our Shetland Sheepdog, Skipper, to the Cape to visit my grandparents! Too few pictures!
I was able to identify my Ukrainian immigrant grandparents (William & Katherine) in the picture below, standing on either side of the porch steps. This was the funeral for their son, Jon, who came to America with his mother when he was only 5 months old. He died at age 9 of appendicitis. The little girls in front of the coffin are my aunt Lil, who was 4, and my aunt Jean, who was 6. Auntie Lil lived to be 101 years old when she died, and she often remembered her beloved big brother, who would share whatever candy he had with her. (My father was born 3 years after Jon died.) I have no idea who the other people are in the photo, but my guess is that they are members of the church they attended.
Funeral picture for Jon Stephen Chomiak (1909-1919) younger sisters Lillian Elizabeth and Augusta Jean standing in front of coffin parents William & Katherine standing on either side of steps, behind the older unidentified girls, March 1919
