Earlier this month I took a trip down to the South Shore.
New England has become so constricted and so treed that a person feels hemmed in. You are hemmed in by trees, by stone walls, by buildings, by people, by rules and regulations. Prescriptions and proscriptions direct your life and your movement.
Almost everywhere you go, rims and edges and borders and rules hem and fence you in. To travel to and from Martha’s Vineyard and Cape Cod requires traversing a cattle chute of hemminess.
On days when life feels too closed-in, a quick trip to Quansoo or Black Point can offer relief.
Here, in the fall, some go to the shore to fish.
Some come to watch the waves.
A swan might swim to seek food on newly submerged sand flats.
Or a person might just look south.
To see sand, sea, and sky.