I spent half of the day working down at Black Point Beach, replacing boards in the walkway.
The day was foggy, mizzly, occasionally rainy, with a warm southern breeze. Fifty-five degrees on the second day of December is warm. Warm enough to work without a jacket, and if out of the wind in only a T-shirt.
Martha’s Vineyard was made by glaciers. At their farthest extent, they piled up great moraines. As the ice melted, braided meltwater rivers carried material to the south, leaving gently sloping, almost flat ground. Here and there, running north to south, are little valleys, once riverbed, which we call “bottoms”.
When I was done with work, I walked over the dunes to the beach. Surf was up, and loud. My house is three or four miles from the beach, and surf noise was plain there, all day long.
Returning inland, you crest the dunes.
You see the plain in front of you.
It’s mighty pretty.
The photos will speak for themselves.