Halloween is the border crossing into winter. ….. But winter is a time when death comes closest — when the cold feels as though it might yet snatch us away, despite our modern comforts. We still perceive the presence of those we’ve lost in the silence of those long evenings and in the depths of darkness that they bring. This is the season of ghosts. Their pale forms are invisible in bright sunlight. Winter makes them clear again. * Ghosts may be a part of the terror of Halloween, but our love of ghost stories betrays a far more fragile desire: that we do not fade so easily from this life. We spend a lot of time talking about leaving a legacy in this world, grand or small, financial or reputational, so that we won’t be forgotten. But ghost stories show us a different concern, hidden under our bluster: we hope that the dead won’t forget us. We hope that we, the living, will not lose the meanings that seem to evaporate when our loved ones die. ~ Katherine May (Wintering: The Power of Rest & Retreat in Difficult Times)
In the Walktober post time frame, fall colors in the Piedmont of North Carolina can mainly be found in the flowers. The leaves don’t begin turning in earnest until November. So, while my sister and her husband have been visiting me for a wonderful ten days, we decided to find a colorful walk at Duke Gardens in Durham. It was a lovely autumn day and I hope I get this post in before the deadline!
‘Ryan’s Pink’ chrysanthemums looked so pretty on the stone wall
camellias bloom from October to May
this little lizard was climbing the steps ahead of us
Carolina anole (aka green anole)
and then decided to ditch us by going under a step
Mexican petunia
Chinese abelia
Japanese anemone
camellia
garden phlox
an oak leaf for my suspended leaf collection
Osage orange fallen from its tree (I had never heard of this kind orange before) AI says that while it is generally not poisonous, eating it causes an unpleasant taste and can lead to indigestion
sleepy orange butterfly
Japanese anemone
birdhouse with tatarian aster landscaping
tatarian aster
stonecrop, a dose of more traditional fall color
purple coneflower in autumn sunlight
painted lady butterfly hiding in the chrysanthemums
Mexican sunflower (not a true sunflower)
monarch butterfly feeding on a Mexican sunflower (I hope it doesn’t think it made it all the way to Mexico already!)
This was my first Walktober without Tim. He died six days after our last one, and three days after I posted it. I wasn’t sure if I could find it in me to participate this year, but after the family had a memorial dinner to mark one year after his death I felt like taking this walk in his memory this year. I know he would want me to carry on and find some pleasure in the activities we used to share.
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.
As the sun sets and hills grow dark, as the birdsong ends and fields fall silent, as the people laugh and take their rest, I watch. My heart hurries to the twilit gardens of Ukraine. And I hurry. O, how I hurry with my thoughts, as my heart yearns for rest. As the fields grow dark, as the groves grow dark, as the hills grow dark, I see a star. And I weep. Hey, you star! Have you reached Ukraine? Do dark eyes scour the blue sky for you? Or don’t they care? May they sleep if they don’t. May they know nothing of my fate. ~ Taras Shevchenko (To N. N.)
10.6.26 ~ Sandy Creek Park (view from the bird blind)
The heat and humidity seem to have finally left us! For good, I hope. I put on my permethrin-treated anti-tick pants and socks and joined Sally for a good long walk at Sandy Creek Park in Durham. It felt so good to be outside at long last and to do some birdwatching. And I got to add another bird to my life bird list near the end of our saunter!
brown thrasher
Thought can keep the storylines alive, and the body reliably hums along with its somatic accompaniments that seem to confirm the storylines and then re-trigger them, but every re-telling is actually slightly different in content and always fresh in the act of remembering, and every somatic sensation, every breath, is fresh and new, however familiar it seems. ~ Joan Tollifson (Ungraspable Presence, October 7, 2026)
Joan Tollifson’s words spoke to me the other morning as my thoughts have been spinning, trying to come up with a story to explain a distressing somatic symptom. Is it psychosomatic, triggered by anxiety and/or grief? (plausible) Or maybe a side effect of a prescription drug? (equally plausible) Or both, or something else entirely? My doctor is investigating and running all kinds of tests. Hopefully we’ll figure it out soon.
red-capped brittlegill mushroom in a patch of partridge berry
eastern phoebe
Somatic worries aside, it felt amazingly good and healthy to be out in the fresh air with a wonderful companion, enjoying the perfect sunlight of this time of year.
nature trail through the dappled sunlit woods
focus on blue mistflower
focus on blue mistflower buds
Ever since I moved to North Carolina I have received repeated warnings and cautions about snakes. Well, after living here for three years I finally encountered one! A copperhead was lying very still across our path through a marshy area. We turned around and went back the way we came. (Yes, I used the zoom to get the pictures!)
eastern copperhead
And he who made kittens put snakes in the grass. ~ Ian Anderson ♫ (Bungle in the Jungle) ♫
a snake in the grass
broadleaf cattails
daisy fleabane
Eight months later, and the for the second time this year, Sally spotted another life bird for me with her binoculars. Even though it was at quite a distance, and moving around at a fast pace, she said it was one of the best looks at one she’s ever had. As with the yellow-bellied sapsucker we saw in February, my camera’s zoom lens struggled to get these shots, which are cropped.
Red-headed Woodpecker, #92
The gorgeous Red-headed Woodpecker is so boldly patterned it’s been called a “flying checkerboard,” with an entirely crimson head, a snow-white body, and half white, half inky black wings. These birds don’t act quite like most other woodpeckers: they’re adept at catching insects in the air, and they eat lots of acorns and beech nuts, often hiding away extra food in tree crevices for later. This magnificent species has declined severely in the past half-century because of habitat loss and changes to its food supply. ~ All About Birds website
Sandy Creek from the Kenneth R. Coulter Bridge
Sandy Creek was pretty low. In spite of the rain we’ve been getting sporadically we are still in a moderate drought. The pond and the creek look a lot different than they did back in January 2025, the last time I was here with Tim. It was interesting to see the difference in the pictures of the creek at the ends of that post and this post. The post from that walk was entitled three stents make a difference. Turns out that was wishful thinking. Tim kept getting worse as his lung disease was finally diagnosed later in the year.
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…
