The Labor Day festivities led to the inevitable  return to my home.  That’s ironic because I grew up at the shore year ’round and  the happiest Labor Day event was to stand by one of the exit routes from the island and wave goodbye to the tourons headed home.  But now….


My daughter and grand-daughter packed up my meds, toiletries, booze, computer stuff, wall art, camera stuff, plants, shirts, slacks, socks and, oh yeah, my unmentionables, and whizzed everything up the highway to my cave at the Old Folks Farm.  There, pictures were rehung and stuff was put away or at least the boxes were put in the right rooms, and the bird feeder was filled.

I called my friend, Barb, who had also moved back to her cave at the farm and she as well as I needed attitude adjustment.  So, over she came to share wine and dinner.  While adjusting, the ShopRite delivery truck arrived with a restock of my pantry and frig and that made it official.

Finally, if there was any doubt that I’d been away for almost three months this web was keeping the bird feeder pole erect.


The post title?  I received a group farewell from the gang on Mordecai Island.  In past years there’s been a Great Blue Heron out there soaking up the morning sun while I soaked up caffeine on Grampa’s deck.  This year a few others joined to wish me a pleasant winter.

Please click on the image to see a larger version.

Left to right:  A Great White, a Great Blue. a Yellow-Crowned Night Heron (low and left of the Juvenile Great Blue), a Juvenile Great Blue, another Great White, and another Great Blue.

Thanks, Guys.  C’ya next summer.


It has been another summer of enjoying the seabird life.  In particular there is a nest on Mordecai Island which had been adopted last year by a pair of Ospreys.  They were childless last year but this year two chicks were hatched and raised to fledging.  This image was made in August after one of the chicks had left.  Note also that Papa was coming in with another twig for the nest.  I guess it was renovating for next year.


One of the family has taken to landing on a neighbor’s flag pole while scanning the adjacent Liberty Thorofare lunch counter.  Makes for quite a flagpole ornament.


This is a good-by post to a season but I’ve also included an image as a good-by to an era.  The nearby 1874 Beck farmhouse was sold a couple of years ago to make room for six McMansions.  They have all come to pass but one of them is a cut-down version of the original farmhouse, moved from the center of the tract and trimmed to fit the smaller lot.  Glad to see it remain.

The image below of the original building was made before development of the tract.  Although made in full sun I chose to recast it as though in moonlight and with candles in the windows.  This summer I redid the candles, making them slimmer and of different sizes.  I also applied a Topaz filter to further increase the drama.  When I posted a version of this on Facebook in 2017 someone commented that he had enjoyed youthful summers with his grandparents in this old house.   Made me feel good.

Please click on the image to see a larger version.





It is a poignant, bittersweet time of year for me, a farewell to a time spent with family, friends, and the bays and marshes which have been part of my life for almost all of my eighty-six years. Such feeling ran in the family; here is a poem written by my brother, Bill Berglund (1920-2005).


This closing image makes its fourth appearance to note the end of summer.  I have yet to find another image that expresses how I feel quite as well.




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.