in the horizon

5.3.20 ~ Avery Point

The health of the eye seems to demand a horizon. We are never tired, so long as we can see far enough.
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson
(Nature)

Tim likes to point out that you can see four lighthouses from a certain place along this walk. It’s fun to look out at the horizon and try to identify different kinds of ships. We don’t see as many as we used to, but I think the ferries to Long Island are still running…

5.3.20 ~ Avery Point Light, the closest, on UConn campus

Avery Point Lighthouse is a lighthouse in Groton, Connecticut, on the Avery Point Campus of the University of Connecticut. Although construction was completed in March 1943, the lighthouse was not lit until May 1944 due to concerns of possible enemy invasion.
~ Wikipedia

5.3.20 ~ Race Rock Light, the most distant, eight miles away

Race Rock Lighthouse stands in Long Island Sound, 8 miles (13 km) from New London, Connecticut, at the mouth of the Race where the waters of the Sound rush both ways with great velocity and force.
~ Wikipedia

I’ve been told that Race Rock Light marks where Long Island Sound ends and the Atlantic Ocean begins. I got a good picture of it in 2012 when we took a ferry to Block Island. See picture here.

5.3.20 ~ New London Ledge Light, in Long Island Sound

New London Ledge Lighthouse is a lighthouse in Groton, Connecticut on the Thames River at the mouth of New London harbor. It is currently owned and maintained by the New London Maritime Society as part of the National Historic Lighthouse Preservation Act program.
~ Wikipedia

5.3.20 ~ New London Harbor Light, across the Thames River

New London Harbor Light is a lighthouse in New London, Connecticut on the west side of the New London harbor entrance. It is the nation’s fifth oldest light station and the seventh oldest U.S. lighthouse. It is both the oldest and the tallest lighthouse in Connecticut and on Long Island Sound, with its tower reaching 90 feet. The light is visible for 15 miles and consists of three seconds of white light every six seconds. It was listed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1990. It is currently owned and maintained by the New London Maritime Society as part of the National Historic Lighthouse Preservation Act program.
~ Wikipedia

5.3.20 ~ meteorological mast

The Meteorological Tower on the University of Connecticut Avery Point Campus measures wind speed and direction (anemometer), atmospheric pressure (barometer), relative humidity, rainfall (rain gauge), air temperature (thermometer), radiation from clouds and sky (pyrgeometer), and solar radiation (pyranometer). It also provides pictures of Long Island Sound. Anemometer height is approximately 37 feet above the water surface.

I cross till I am weary
A Mountain — in my mind —
More Mountains — then a Sea —
More Seas — And then
A Desert — find —

And my Horizon blocks
With steady — drifting — Grains
Of unconjectured quantity —

~ Emily Dickinson
(The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #666)

5.3.20 ~ weather station
5.3.20 ~ I love the sound this buoy’s bell makes

Feeling is deep and still; and the word that floats on the surface
Is as the tossing buoy, that betrays where the anchor is hidden.

~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
(Evangeline)

5.3.20 ~ an amazing tree

That way I looked between and over the near green hills to some distant and higher ones in the horizon, tinged with blue. … There was pasture enough for my imagination. … ‘There are none happy in the world but beings who enjoy freely a vast horizon,’ said Damodara, when his herds required new and larger pastures.
~ Henry David Thoreau
(Walden)

our bubble

4.14.20 ~ morning moon

As we continue to carve out a new life for ourselves in quarantine, we have started referring to “our bubble.” Stay safe, stay home. We are wary of popping our bubble by some careless slip of protocol. We care for our safe zone (our bubble) and speak of it fondly sometimes, as we tend to it like one would a houseplant or a pet.

4.14.20 ~ Elm Grove Cemetery, Mystic, Connecticut

Yesterday we went for an early morning walk at Elm Grove Cemetery in Mystic. It’s a large scenic resting place along the Mystic River, just north of Mystic Seaport. The seaport is closed for the pandemic and many (most?) of its employees have been laid off. We parked at the south end of the graveyard where we could see the dockyard across the water and also explore the fascinating carvings on the gravestones of past sailors.

4.14.20 ~ Mystic Seaport from a distance
4.14.20 ~ sailing poetry on a headstone
4.14.20 ~ Mystic Seaport buildings

We’re going to renew our membership to Mystic Seaport anyway. Even though we have no idea when it will be safe to visit again.

4.14.20 ~ looking across the Mystic River

I’m pretty sure that cliff and house (above) are part of the Peace Sanctuary, where Janet, her mom and I took a lady slippers nature walk back in 2013. See lady slippers.

4.14.20 ~ Draken Harald Hårfagre, still covered for winter

Will the Viking ship have any adventures this year? I have my doubts there will be a Viking Days festival this June…

4.14.20 ~ a soggy stuffed bunny hiding
4.14.20 ~ New London Ledge Lighthouse
4.14.20 ~ one of the cemetery’s peaceful ponds
4.14.20 ~ a lighthouse for a monument
4.14.20 ~ a small decorative well that Tim loved
4.14.20 ~ another peaceful pond

And we finally came around back to our car. Can’t believe it’s six years old! In some places folks aren’t permitted to drive somewhere to take a walk but we are, thankfully. Tim says it isn’t good for cars to sit without running for long periods of time. Our car is an important part of our bubble!

This was our first walk where we did not encounter a single person! Not sure if it was the location or the time of day that did the trick. I suspect there will be more cooler early morning walks as the warmer summer days come along. As long as we can manage to stay safe in our bubble.

We now have 21 confirmed cases of COVID-19 in our town.

my favorite walk

4.4.21 ~ Avery Point
4.4.20 ~ beautiful Long Island Sound
4.4.20 ~ New London Ledge Lighthouse
4.4.20 ~ brant geese are making themsleves at home in these waters, too

We now have six detected cases of coronavirus in our town. We’re continuing to stay at home, except for our daily walks. Strictly adhering to social distancing. Hoping for the best. Thinking of health care and other essential workers with heartfelt gratitude.

morning at the beach

4.1.20 ~ sidewalk greetings, Eastern Point Beach

Noon — is the Hinge of Day —
Evening — the Tissue Door —
Morning — the East compelling the Sill —
Till all the World is ajar —

~ Emily Dickinson
(The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #1060)

4.1.20 ~ treasures in the sand

On Wednesday we went down to the beach earlier in the morning and found it less populated and more peaceful. Chilly, but wonderful! Staying connected with family and friends and even feeling better physically. Full of gratitude.

4.1.20 ~ looking east
4.1.20 ~ looking west, New London Ledge Lighthouse and Tyler House
4.1.20 ~ looking north, Zbierski House
4.1.20 ~ looking down
4.1.20 ~ specks of garnet in the sand
4.1.20 ~ solitary tree, Thames River

Spring! Back at home in my garden, the chionodoxa (glory of the snow) are out! What a cheerful greeting and welcome home. ❦

4.1.20 ~ chionodoxa popping through the mulch

an explanation for all the confusion and difficulties in your life

3.18.20 ~ brant goose at Eastern Point Beach

How do you explain to the people around you that what you need now is to just crash and do nothing for a while until your head feels normal again, when you don’t even know what’s wrong with yourself?

I think it’s important to keep in mind that when we define the severity of a person’s Autism, it’s only a measure of outward behavior and doesn’t really reflect how much one is affected by the condition internally. Those of us who appear to have low severity may actually need more than is apparent to the eye.

Sometimes I think of myself as part of a lost generation (or generations), the ones who had to go through life with Asperger’s unknowingly. And I’m hoping that in the future, with better education and understanding, the Aspie youth of the future will have a completely different experience.

It’s a nice feeling — a relief — to finally find an explanation for all the confusion and difficulties in your life, but it would have been even nicer to have known it all along.

~ Michelle Vines
(Asperger’s on the Inside)

Yesterday I spent the day reading and then shredding all the journals I wrote when I was in my late 20s and early 30s. (I’m in my early 60s now.) Something I’ve been meaning to do for a few years because there was a lot of very personal stuff in there.

3.18.20 ~ brant goose at Eastern Point Beach

What was strikingly revealed to me as I read is the painful struggle I was having with autism for years, trying desperately to figure out what was “wrong” with me. The evidence of impaired executive functioning jumped out at me on almost every page, so obvious from what I know now, so baffling back then. I wanted so badly to live like a “normal” (neurotypical) person, to figure out how to get along in this world.

3.18.20 ~ brant geese at Eastern Point Beach

As I read I kept saying under my breath, “no wonder you were so damn tired all the time.” It’s exhausting trying to make your brain work with a different operating system. I can’t help wondering what my life might have been like had I and my parents and my husband known about autism and if I had had some meaningful support. But it IS a huge relief to have it all make sense now.

3.18.20 ~ brant goose at Eastern Point Beach

portrait setting

9.1.19 ~ my gull friend at Eastern Point Beach, portrait setting

Last night we went down for our last supper from the concession stand at the beach. (Tonight will be the last night it is open but it is supposed to rain today so we won’t likely be going down there.) As we were waiting for our order my gull friend flew to the post nearest Tyler House to greet us. I took a few pictures and then was suddenly inspired to try out the portrait setting on my camera. The gull was happy to keep posing.

9.1.19 ~ portrait setting
9.1.19 ~ portrait setting
9.1.19 ~ this is where he was standing for his portraits

When some people approached by land and a noisy little motorboat came close to shore, he took off and didn’t come back while we were eating on our bench. But I was grateful for the short visit we had.

9.1.19 ~ a young ring-billed gull who watched us eat our supper
9.1.19 ~ so long, summertime

I expect we will bring our own food down to the beach on warm autumn days, but I have to say, this was the first summer I’ve actually enjoyed in a very long time.

a cast of characters

8.16.19 ~ Eastern Point Beach
This is probably a laughing gull somewhere on the road to adulthood.
It takes them 2-3 years to gain adult plumage.
He kept a close eye on us, staring intently as we ate our supper.
This young ring-billed gull decided to attract our attention with all sorts of antics right in front of our bench.
His long call was not very long or very loud, thankfully.
They grey freckles on his head are fetching.
Showing off some fancy footwork.
This guy kept his distance as he was performing
the amazing “feet” of standing on one leg.
He stayed like that the whole time we were eating.
Look to the right…
Head down…
Keeping his gaze forward…
Now to the left. Perhaps he was doing some gull yoga.

There were no herring gulls there that evening, not even my friend with the mangled leg. But we were well entertained by these visitors.

two wishes came true

7.29.19 ~ Katherine at Eastern Point Beach

The first wish: to see my granddaughter fall in love with our beach. We went in the evening during a recent overnight visit and she loved it so much we decided to come again the next day. 🙂

7.29.19 ~ Katherine using a cookie cutter to make hearts in the sand

In the evening it can feel like one has the whole beach to oneself.

a bucket full of love!

We got up bright and early the following morning to beat the crowds and the heat of the day.

7.30.19 ~ turns out Finn is a morning person like his Grammy
7.30.19 ~ Katherine is still a night owl, like most of the family,
but she didn’t mind getting up early to go back to the beach
~ Katherine met another early visitor to the beach
and I wondered what they were talking about ~

So after spending some time with both her children on the wet sand near the water, and then nursing Finn, Larisa took off with Katherine to show her all the magic and wonder of this special beach where she grew up. She showed her how to catch hermit crabs, put them in her bucket, and let them go again. And many other things. Grandpa & I tended to Finn, who was fussy and ready for his morning nap.

But first Grandpa wanted to show him a few things, too.

Our little towhead. When I was little I had blond hair, too, and could not get used to people calling me “Blondie” wherever I went. That bothered me for some reason, until my grandmother told me it made me look Norwegian, like my ancestors. As soon as I started liking my blond hair, when I was a teenager, it darkened to a light brown. And that, as my mother would have said, is how the cookie crumbles.

~ I think I need my nap now, Grandpa ~
7.30.19 ~ rocking Finn to sleep on Eastern Point Beach
~ using my body and two hats to keep him in the shade

The second wish: to rock my grandson to sleep one more time. I had been sorely missing all those naps he took in my arms those first months of his life. (Swaying back and forth with my feet in the sand is much easier on the back than rocking on a hard floor was.) He was a day short of 9 months old and quite an armful!!!

My snuggle bug slept for over an hour and Grandpa kept him in the
shade by periodically adjusting the chair and the hats and a towel
~ I treasured every moment of this long nap

When Finn woke up he was in a fabulous mood. The concession stand opened at 11:00 a.m. so we left the sand and headed to Tyler House to enjoy some ice cream on the shady porch. It was very hot and humid but the sea breeze and being out of the sun was just what we all needed.

7.30.19 ~ our darling Larisa and her precious little ones

It was such a wonderful couple of days. And I admit, I did shed a few tears when they left later that afternoon. I hope next time Dima will come, too!

distress

7.11.19 ~ my gull friend landing after a scuffle

This time I brought my camera to the beach, in hopes of seeing my gull friend with the mangled leg again. He was sitting on the highest rock, resting. Both of the benches along the sidewalk where we usually sit were occupied so we went to a bench on the rocks between Tyler House and the water. It’s kind of nice there anyway because it’s in the shade and there is a dip in the boulders creating a watering hole the gulls frequent for drinks.

As we were eating it sounded like some kind of scuffle was happening around the side of the house, with several gulls crying. Excited human voices were in the mix. Perhaps one of the gulls stole a hot dog and the others fought him for it. I think my friend was involved because when the calls died down he flew around the corner and landed in front of us, crying with great distress. And he went on crying for quite a long time. He was shuddering terribly, too.

After a long while — maybe after he was finished telling us the story? — he sat down and was quiet and seemed content to watch us eat. When I was finished I went over to him and sat on the rock with him. We communed for quite a while and I got a few pictures.

And then he suddenly stood up and started crying again. I looked to my left and saw a very large, menacing great black-backed gull standing there, staring my gull down. It flew off when I turned my camera toward it. Maybe these two are fighting about something?

7.11.19 ~ my gull friend after confronting a great black-backed gull

After he calmed down I gave him a little pep talk and then we started to leave. He followed us to the sidewalk and then flew across the grass. It was if he was walking (flying) us to the car. I hope we see him again next week under better circumstances!

7.11.19 ~ see you next week, my gull friend!