I had read of a Pinelands hike into the Harris Paper Mill ruins for last Saturday.  I was itchy to get off of the beach but not enough for a five mile hike.  Marty Lou and I found the ruins in the early sixties when we were young and carefree and following the trails on the topo maps.  In those days there wasn’t any fencing around the ruins.  Oh, well.  Nevertheless I was beckoned so I drove to Harrisville Lake and walked along the shore for my size of hike.  It made me want to find that topo map and maybe try again sometime.  Here’s a view of the lake.

Harrisville Lake

Discussion:  Dark and no particular “wow” factor but it survived the cut because of the interesting clouds and their reflections, and the presence of two triangles in the composition which they tell us pleases the mind’s eye.  The peaks of those triangles draw the viewer’s eye upstream to … where??

Spillways are like magnets for me.  Here’s a view of the spillway below the Harrisville Lake dam.  The grasses running toward the top of the image drew me in.  The whitish puffs?  Perhaps cotton balls…..too early for snow.

Harrisville Lake dam spillway.



The recent full moon, September 12th, occurring closest to the autumnal equinox is known as the Harvest Moon.  With the data from Stellarium, my astronomical software, I was on the beach and set up well before moon rise.  My fantasy has always been to capture the disk just (or slightly after emerging) with a golden trail of light dappling the surface of the ocean on its way to my lens.  Well, I need not have hurried.  There was a cloud bank offshore that kept the moon from appearing until some 20 minutes later, and it was hazy.   But, we keep trying.  The beach at twilight was lovely while waiting for the moonrise.  There are three ghosts of sanderlings skittering in the foreground for some dinner.

The beach at twilight in September.

With the moon up sufficiently I still couldn’t get my golden trail but the waves on the jetty gave me a nice balance.

The Harvest Moon Above the Jetty.

Finally, when it had risen still higher I was losing the “big” disk but there was my golden trail.

I was so glad to see the golden trail that I tried a little video to watch while I’m hibernating in my cave this winter.


A nice weekend.  Blustery.  Dramatic clouds.  Needed a windbreaker.  But lots to photograph from one end of LBI to the other.  I began at the entrance to the wildlife refuge at Holgate.  Wild life?  Yes; a surfer meet.   Here’s a few and they had plenty of observers on the beach.

Right next door was this lovely young lady working the surf. 

Further up the island it was Mordecai Island fall cleanup day.  Twice a year volunteers take small boats and trash bags to the island to pick up the accumulated flotsam and jetsam.  Soda cans, tennis balls, pieces of styrofoam, pieces of sail cloth, yogurt containers, shotgun shells, decoys, and great swaths of fragmites reeds washed up by flood tides. 

This year the memo didn’t circulate very far so you see below two-thirds of the cleanup force, edging in to take on some of the bags we had filled.  The tally:  two decoys this year, almost one a piece.

Still further up the island to the always colorful commercial fishing boat docks at Viking Village.

I finished Sunday afternoon watching people trying to pull some dinner from the inlet.

OH AUGUST WON’T YOU PLEASE COME HOME (Sung to the tune of Bill Bailey)

Somebody pulled another lever last night.  The day ran with the wind mostly out of the south but then it swung around to the northwest.  By 7:00 PM it was blowing 26 and gusting to 35.  Waves were breaking on the west side of Mordecai Island and the porch furniture slid across the deck until it fetched up against a roof column.  This morning it’s still running 15-20, there are still whitecaps out on the bay,  and at 50 degrees a hoodie feels pretty good.

Here’s a short video clip  to convey the warm early morning light and the wind.   If the wind’s too noisy turn your volume down.  Also, it’s best if you kick up the video quality by clicking on the 360 at the lower right of the video screen after you start it and then clicking on 720.  Then you can see the gulls flying, the Great White Egret feeding on the inside far bank, the whitecaps on the bay, and the line of ducks swimming along the near bank.


Coming on the heels of Irene I was apprehensive about Hurricane Katia.  Fortunately, she turned well out into the North Atlantic but not without disturbing the surf.  Early that morning  I was sitting out on the covered porch, enjoying a coffee amidst now-and-then showers.  But the wind was coming from the beach and I could hear the waves pounding.   Enough with the coffee!  Off to the beach to observe Katia’s tail wagging.

Waves from Hurricane Katia pound the jetty.

Evidence of what could have been was abundant.




But the day had promise, later fullfilled,  as witness the dune grass and a  rain-dropped Rosa Rugosa with Bayberry background as I left the beach.


Saturday and Sunday were beautiful end-of-summer days.  The last of the kids’ races was enjoyed by parents and grandparents.

Labor Day, however, dawned unpromising.  After lunch the kids packed up (including their dogs and cats to Pearl’s relief) and the house became quiet.  Feeling the end-of-season melancholy I went to the beach and endured the chilly threatening wind for a half hour before retreating.  The beach scene fit the idea of the end of the season.

Somebody threw the Labor Day lever.

The lifeguard was counting down his last hour on the stand for the season.   He didn’t have many people to worry about.

Not many custromers.

The sanderlings which began arriving a few weeks ago will have the beach more to themselves.

This morning, the streets are relatively empty; there’s less competition for the last cinnamon bun at the Crust ‘n Crumb; it’s 62 degrees; and the rain has arrived.   

The rain arrived.

The rain is adding to the “Go home!” message but that should be ignored.  There are many warm, pleasant weekends yet to be enjoyed, and I will.


This is my 100th post to this journal which I began in February of 2009, a bit over two and a half years ago.  I was encouraged to do it by camera club colleagues Denise Bush and Terry Wilson, and it has been an enjoyable and rewarding vehicle for me.  I have posted over 500 of my images, three audio segments linked to images; two video clips; and lots and lots of words.  Although my images provide a raison d’être I haven’t regarded it as a photo blog.  Most of my photography (digital era) appears in my galleries, over 1500 images in some 160 galleries.

 Rather, and as befits a journal, most of the posted pictures represent highlights of what has gone on in my life plus some occasional flashbacks and memories of related earlier days.

I have appreciated the more than 13,000 views of my posts that have occurred, and the over 340 comments that friends have left about my work.  Many of my posts are revisited well after posting.  Some all time favorites include Charleston and the Low Country Plantations, the 18th and 19th Century Fairmount Park Houses, and Hurricane Earl.  Because even I was having trouble trying to locate a previous post, this past spring I added an index including hot links to jump to a desired post.  The index can be clicked at the top of each page or by clicking here.

Thanks to all for visiting because it would have been a total waste without others finding it interesting.

I think I’ll try for 200.