| Thursday, November 30, 2017 | | South | The keyword for this month's blog is South. Twice in November, I made the time to drive across the Oregon Inlet bridge and onto Hatteras Island. I was on a deliberate quest both times, headed for Frisco Pier. The latest news I read indicates that the pier's demolition will indeed begin in December, so I drove south at the beginning of the month for what will be the last moonrise there, and two days ago I drove south again for my last sunset there--if in fact the schedule proves true.
Many readers of my blog have a special affection for Frisco Pier while others may never have seen it in person. What I find most intriguing is the way the light affects the ocean here. For the uninitiated, the easiest way to describe it is to say that the sun appears to be setting in the south, and the moon rising in the north. That's not true of course--the coast bends sharply at Buxton, so sharply that looking directly out to sea, as one might in Nags Head, say, puts you looking SOUTH, not east. East is off your left shoulder; west is to your right. It is an odd feeling for those of us whose ocean experience is almost wholly confined to beaches north of Hatteras Light. But it is well worth the drive to watch the light play on the waves in completely different ways than it does to the north.
Tuesday I stopped at Pea Island's ponds; there are plenty of birds here now though few were close enough to photograph. I saw hundreds, maybe thousands of swans; huge rafts of ducks; a small group of coots; but no snow geese and no white pelicans yet.
The month's wet early weather finally gave way to some beautiful days and nights here in November's final couple of weeks, and I was happy to get outside a bit to enjoy it.
Last Sunday, coming back from a craft show in Va Beach, I stopped at a favorite Currituck soundside spot to look west. The road here bends at about the same angle so that "west" is actually to the right of the highway instead of behind me. The air was still but the glimpses of the sound I saw on the other side showed the ruffling of water I associate with a steady breeze. I almost did not stop. But when I arrived, the Sound here was glass; the sun had just set and the glow was magic. I can still feel the stillness and quiet just looking back at the images I made on that special evening.
November is a month when we are reminded to be grateful--a practice I recommend for every day, not just when facing a stuffed turkey. In the midst of a busy life, it's easy to take beauties such as still water or a full moon rising in a clear sky for granted. These daily blessings, they feed us, if we let them. I hope these images nourish you as much as they did me in the moment of experiencing them.
The last image is for longtime reader, Ann, who asked to see a picture of our puppy. Ann, unfortunately, we had to find him another home and were lucky enough to know a family here who had to put their elderly dog down a few weeks before we said goodby to our Westie. Pete's sudden health challenges made us both realize that while we are good parents to our older Sheltie, we do not have the time to devote to properly training a puppy. His new owners went away for Thanksgiving so we had a two night sleepover. I am glad we will still get to have little visits as he grows. Anyway, here is his photo, showing just how cute and smart he really is!
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click for larger image | The month began with a foggy sunrise. The pelicans would suddenly appear seemingly out of nowhere, startling me into joy every time. |
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click for larger image | When the fog first began to burn off enough to let some light through, the views were ethereal and changed constantly in real time. |
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click for larger image | Here is the full moon rising in Frisco. See the odd angle? It is not where you expect it to be! |
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click for larger image | This dock, like Frisco Pier, has weathered some storms but is still beautiful. The same could be said of most of us. |
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posted by eturek at 9:19 PM |
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