Today dawned with fog and it stubbornly remained until after mid-day.  At 2:00 PM I still can’t make out the mainland five miles distant.   A foggy day…something different, right?  But if I go out am I really going to find something worth showing?  The ducks (below) made me get out and start shooting.  It was fun.

This fellow was having a tough time drying out in the soup.

My friend who owns these docks comes almost everyday from the mainland to work on his projects.  He always begins by feeding the ducks.  I guess the fog kept him off the roads this morning and the ducks are hungry and confused.   Reminder: keep your foraging skills honed; the free lunch may not always show up.

Here is the quintessential fog scene: dark, impenetrable, deathly still, foreboding, mysterious.  Will Charon come paddling out of the mist?

Not a beach day.

 A few more images from the morning can be seen by clicking here.


They say that fall doesn’t arrive until next week but I must tell you:  it has been prowling around off-shore for a couple of weeks, sneaking in at night,  probing our summer softness with chilly nights, and pushing winds into our days .  My cat, Pearl, has inquired as to the whereabouts of the electric blanket.

I’ve watched the meadows age as the spartina gives up the green, turning to a straw-colored glow.  There were one or two ospreys hanging around, late for their season but they have also taken the hint from nights in the 50’s.  The Great Blue Herons and the Great White Egrets are still here.  A sharp eye will see egrets on the far side of the inside pond above.

I’ve loved watching them take the warm early morning sun on the marsh on the near side of the island (Mordecai) above.  There have been four great blues, two yellow-crowned night herons, the great whites here and there, and a Belted Kingfisher who counter-wobbles on the day marker as the wind moves it back and forth.   Yesterday morniing as I watched I found myself amidst a gentle flutter-by of Monarch butterflies headed southwest.  Not a cloud by any means but a steady here-and-there of singles or twos or threes, and it continued during the morning.  They’re headed for Mexico.  Vaya con Dios.

And what’s happening on the beach three blocks away?  Well, there’s room to put your beach towel down and the ice cream vendors have left.  The island cleared out after Labor Day, and the windier days haven’t helped.

I think we can find a spot.

Even the gulls mourn the passing of lunch on the beach, hoping here for the last potato chip.

I don't care! We're not going home yet.


The skies were heavily overcast as Earl proceeded up the coast south of us.  The September arrival Sanderlings were skittering about, enjoying whatever particles each wave washed up and deposited on the beach.

Then the wind and the sea became more aggressive, more serious.

And the waves darker, bigger, more frequent.

By twilight, although a 20 knot wind continued, the clouds in the west had broken apart to unveil the promise of tomorrow’s sun.  Click on the picture for a panoramic view.


And, indeed, the following morning was beautiful.