Barbara Rodgers

a mysterious place

10.10.15.0646 — Province Lands
10.10.15 ~ Provincetown, Massachusetts

This is another of those strangely potent places. Everyone I know who has spent any time on the dune agrees that there’s, well, something there, though outwardly it is neither more nor less than an enormous arc of sand cutting across the sky.
~ Michael Cunningham
(Land’s End: A Walk in Provincetown)

Almost every time we go to Provincetown we go on one of Art’s Dune Tours to see the Province Lands sand dunes of Cape Cod National Seashore. In the past part of the tour took us down on the beach but we couldn’t do that this time due to severe beach erosion caused by storms the past couple of winters. So we had to be satisfied with exploring the dunes themselves. Unfortunately we weren’t able to book a sunset tour – those have been our favorites over the years.

If I die tomorrow, Provincetown is where I’d want my ashes scattered. Who knows why we fall in love, with places or people, with objects or ideas? Thirty centuries of literature haven’t begun to solve the mystery; nor have they in any way slaked our interest in it. Provincetown is a mysterious place, and those of us who love it tend to do so with a peculiar, inscrutable intensity.
~ Michael Cunningham
(Land’s End: A Walk in Provincetown)

10.10.15.0670 — Pilgrim Monument, in the distance, is 252 feet high

10.10.15.0673 — a little tourist from Switzerland

10.10.15.0674 — words left on a shingle in the dune

Our guide kept showing us where the sands have been shifting in recent years, impressing on us the endless flow of nature. How strange that while present there, time seems to stand still, if only for a moment.

10.10.15.0682 — afternoon sun over the dune

another weed by the wall

10.10.15.0701 — autumn 2015 ~ Center Street, Provincetown, Massachusetts

There is a place where an artist lives in a house surrounded by a garden full of sculptures and a stone wall embedded with crystals and other treasures. In all the years I’ve been going to Provincetown I had never known it was there because I had never been down that particular street. But in 2008 our niece showed it to us.

When I started blogging I remember being especially excited to match a picture I took there with an Emerson quote and posted this: a weed by the wall

Seven years later, on our recent trip to the Cape, I decided to go see the stone wall again. This time there was no weed growing by the first crystal, but there was another weed growing by a different crystal.

shy weeds by a wall
retracing steps with pithy
moments of delight
~ Barbara Rodgers
(By the Sea)

forecaster

10.25.15.1570 — woodpecker by Tim Rodgers ~ 10.25.15 ~ Sound Breeze

His Bill an Augur is
His Head, a Cap and Frill
He laboreth at every Tree
A Worm, His utmost Goal –
~ Emily Dickinson
(The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #990)

autumn dyes

sunlight backlight ~ 10.24.15 ~ Mansfield Hollow State Park, Connecticut

Autumn – overlooked my Knitting –
Dyes – said He – have I –
Could disparage a Flamingo –
Show Me them – said I –
~ Emily Dickinson
(The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #786)

a great salt marsh

10.11.15.0898 — Bass Hollow Boardwalk ~ 10.11.15 ~ Yarmouth, Massachusetts

Because we’ve been to Cape Cod so many times in our lives something I’ve wanted to do was visit a place there that we’ve never been to before. Bass Hollow Boardwalk in Yarmouth sounded enticing.

10.11..15.0913 — 10.11.15 ~ Yarmouth, Massachusetts

This long boardwalk extends out over a salt marsh on the bay side of the Cape and offers some breathtaking views and lots of birds to observe close-up. It was very windy the afternoon we went!

10.11.15.0915 — afternoon shadows and reflections

I don’t know what kind of shorebirds these are – would appreciate any help with identification!

10.11.15.0954 — 10.11.15 ~ Yarmouth, Massachusetts
greater yellowlegs

10.11.15.0961 — 10.11.15 ~ Yarmouth, Massachusetts

10.11.15.0966 — 10.11.15 ~ Yarmouth, Massachusetts

10.11.15.0989 — looking back from the end

10.11.15.1022 — 10.11.15 ~ Yarmouth, Massachusetts

10.11.15.1032 — 10.11.15 ~ Yarmouth, Massachusetts

10.11.15.1042 — 10.11.15 ~ Yarmouth, Massachusetts

10.11.15.1051 — 10.11.15 ~ Yarmouth, Massachusetts

10.11.15.1055 — 10.11.15 ~ Yarmouth, Massachusetts

To stand at the edge of the sea, to sense the ebb and flow of the tides, to feel the breath of a mist moving over a great salt marsh, to watch the flight of shore birds that have swept up and down the surf lines of the continents for untold thousands of years, to see the running of the old eels and the young shad to the sea, is to have knowledge of things that are as nearly eternal as any earthly life can be.
~ Rachel Carson
(Under the Sea Wind)

10.11.15.1110 — 10.11.15 ~ Yarmouth, Massachusetts

whimsical kingdoms

10.16.15.1226 — Lieutenant River ~ 10.16.15 ~ Old Lyme, Connecticut

The theme of this year’s Wee Faerie Village at the Florence Griswold Museum in Old Lyme is Whimsical Kingdoms. Last week Janet, Kathy and I visited and had a lovely morning and afternoon walking through the outdoor exhibit, enjoying the cool, crisp autumn air and fanciful creations.

I love this time of year! We stopped for lunch at the museum’s Café Flo, where the addition of a cup of warm apple cider was a most welcome pleasure.

This year I was particularly drawn to all the earth tones and textures in many of the fairy castles. But we were also lucky enough to catch a glimpse of a colorful fairy! Following are a few of my favorites…

10.16.15.1236 — “Brave” by Kristin & Tom Vernon

10.16.15.1277 — “Whimsical Sugar Maple Castle” by Jared Welcome

Many years ago a sugar maple seedling twirled to the ground. Inside, a mighty tree hiding a faerie castle, hid inside. For seven and seventy years the tree grew tall, until the winds of Hurricane Sandy took its toll. It was time for the faerie tower to emerge. Coaxed out of hiding by chain saw and sander, this whimsical, yet sturdy castle “welcomes” all faeries fluttering down in search of shelter.
~ Wee Faerie Village: Whimsical Kingdoms

10.16.15.1300 — “Sand Castle Extraordifaerie” by Greg J. Grady

10.16.15.1311 — “The Wizard King” by William Vollers

10.16.15.1373 — “Tiger Lily’s Village”
by Madeline Kwasniewski & T. Arthur Donnally

10.16.15.1400 — “Thumbelina” by Nancy MacBride

10.16.15.1421 — autumn sky at Florence Griswold Museum

10.16.15.1431 — “The Woodland Faerie Kingdom of A Midsummer’s Night Dream”
by Tammi Flynn, Cheryl Poirier & Lisa Reneson

10.16.15.1462 — “Jack & The Beanstalk” by Carol Hall-Jordan & Kathryn Stocking-Koza

10.16.15.1467 — “Jack & The Beanstalk” by Carol Hall-Jordan & Kathryn Stocking-Koza

10.16.15.1473 — “One Thousand & One Arabian Nights” by Pam Erickson & Sharon Didato

10.16.15.1491 — “Tower of Baubles” by Billie Tannen & Robert Nielsen

10.16.15.1504 — a Valkyrie hanging out in “Valhalla” by Amy Hannum & Laurie McGuinness

To view my pictures from past Wee Faerie Villages click on “Florence Griswold” in the categories below.

teaching our children

This might be a good time to remember that we should not be asking why “real” food costs so much, but rather, why is processed food so cheap? This reminded me of one of my posts from last year – facts and figures about how we spend money on food that truly startled me when I first learned of them. See: food shopping. Yes, we need to teach our children well!

it’s always ourselves we find in the sea

10.11.15.0812 — Herring Cove Beach ~ 10.11.15 ~ Provincetown, Massachusetts

One morning in Provincetown we drove out to Herring Cove Beach, where we used to spend days at the beach when the kids were small. The waves here on the bay side are more gentle than they are on the beaches facing the open Atlantic. When they got older they preferred the excitement of Race Point Beach. This beach is pretty rocky, lots of small stones, making trips in and out of the water rough on tiny feet.

For whatever we lose (like a you or a me)
it’s always ourselves we find in the sea
~ E. E. Cummings
(The Lyric Self in Zen & E. E. Cummings)

It was fun photographing the gulls sunning themselves in a different background than the large rocks they usually perch on at our local beach. The future is always uncertain, but lately possible scenarios seem to be monopolizing my thoughts, creating anxiety even as I try to stay living in the present. Spending so much time on the Cape has helped me restore a sense of peace with things as they are or will prove to be. It’s not so much a feeling of resignation, but more of an accepting of the inevitable flux and flow of life.

When anxious, uneasy and bad thoughts come, I go to the sea, and the sea drowns them out with its great wide sounds, cleanses me with its noise and imposes a rhythm upon everything in me that is bewildered and confused.
~ Rainer Maria Rilke
(Letter to Clara Rilke, March 27, 1903)

slipping into the sea

10.12.15.1111 — before sunrise from our balcony ~ 10.12.15 ~ Dennis Port, Massachusetts

An incurable early bird, on the last morning of our little weekend getaway I found myself unable to sleep and so decided to get up and read and gaze out of the sliding glass doors of our room at the Sea Shell Motel in Dennis Port on Cape Cod. It was about 40 minutes before sunrise and there was an intense yellow orange glow on the horizon.

10.12.15.1116 — walking over the dune ~ 10.12.15 ~ Dennis Port, Massachusetts

As sunrise approached I decided to bundle up in my coat and my new Norwegian wool hat with ear flaps and walk down to the windy beach to take some pictures and enjoy some early morning solitude. It was the best moment of the day.

10.12.15.1119 — sunrise on the beach ~ 10.12.15 ~ Dennis Port, Massachusetts

Thoughts turned to beloved grandparents who lived in Dennis Port, just up the street. When I was little we stayed with them at their house but sometime in the late 1980s, when my own children were little, my grandmother’s health problems became such that staying in a motel nearby became necessary. There’s no way to count the times we have stayed at the Sea Shell in the past 30 years or so. Each room is unique and charming, well-worn but clean and comfortable. No frills, just a short wooden walkway over the dune to the beach, the sounds of waves breaking close by.

10.12.15.1123 — the sun keeps rising ~ 10.12.15 ~ Dennis Port, Massachusetts

I wanted to come here for old times’ sake. So often on this recent trip nature would vividly illustrate the simple truth that nothing is solid in the boundless flow of time and place, there is nothing to grasp. It was here that my grandparents embraced me with abiding wisdom and persisting love. But now they are long gone, even though I feel their presence still. The waves break on the sand and disappear and yet are still there, like the voices of my small curious children. Cape Cod is slipping into the sea.