Beach Baby

One of my earliest memories of Martha’s Vineyard is of the south shore, of south beach. We lived in an ancient farmhouse, with woods to the north and west, and a many-acres field to the south and east. Sheep populated that field, and at evening would return to their dilapidated but sturdy barn. As night came, the whippoorwills called. Overandoverandover.

The farmhouse and the field

In bright daytime, there was often a walk across the outwash plain field, through grasses, goldenrod and pearly everlasting, to the beach.

On the way to the beach

Where we reached, under the blue sky, an Edenic intensity of summer sun, of  beachgrass, of rosa rugosa, of white sand, of water and of waves.  And the vast expanse of south beach sand.

What a wonderful place to be.

The photo above is a recent one, of a grandchild, but could be of me, over sixty years ago.




2 responses to “Beach Baby

  1. Ah, yes – I remember those days – Nancy and I lining up you younguns (Deborah age 2, Jane (now Michelle) age 3, Jack age 4, and you age 5) and spooning food into your open mouths (like a row of baby birds) from those little jars of baby food. We would watch you four play in the pond, then trap you all in the back of my truck and grab a swim in the ocean for ourselves – happy memories…..

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