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Nantucket! February 1, 2011

Posted by littlebangtheory in Art and Nature, Love and Death.
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Susan and I made landfall (or “island-fall,” in this case,) around 1pm, in the port of Nantucket.  We disembarked and ambled up Main Street, a cobblestone throwback to a slower time, though presently hosting a full compliment of modern autos:

The cobblestone streets were cool, though I wouldn’t want to have to plow them:

After a period of wandering/fumbling our way around town, we found our bed & breakfast, “Seven Sea Street,” at, um, #7 Sea Street.  The wandering was entirely my fault; I’d assumed there’d be some sort of tourist info available  for people getting off the ferry, and lacking a functioning printer at home, hadn’t brought a street map.

And yeah, “Off-Season” meant off season,  and not much was open, including the Visitors’ Center!

We ditched our bags at our lodgings and walked a little ways to Brant Point, where a cute little lighthouse stood guard over the harbor entrance.  It was just a bit past low tide, and wave upon wave of shells festooned the beach below the light:

That was an attempt at a tilt/shift shot, with Elliot putting in his best effort but not getting his best results; I’m trying to figure out why, and settling somewhere around the low light and serious shift putting the lens beyond its more useful parameters.  At any rate, I resolved to get back here at first light (not a very romantic option, but hey, I’m trying to do something here.)

We found a nice restaurant just down the block from our lodgings and enjoyed a spectacular meal at Lo/La 41, fresh local seafood within sight of the ocean.  It set me back more than I’m used to, but you know, these numbered birthdays come only once in a lifetime, and here we were both healthy and hungry and strong and sensually alight.  We ate with gusto, then retired to our little suite, paying passing homage to the fireplace in the sitting room on our way to our four-poster canopy nest.

The pre-dawn morning twisted my mind a bit, its pale eastern glow urging me out of bed despite a lack of sleep.  I’d laid my clothes out in order of application in the other room, hoping to let Susan sleep while I took photos.  My pre-planning worked and I slipped away unnoticed.

I beat feet back to Brant Point Light, a little later than I’d hoped but still early enough to get these shots.

Morning threatening to break:

This cool walkway said, “Come on in!”

…but, of course, the door was locked, so I just walked the walk.   🙂

Nothin’ going on there except me and the birds:

By this time my numb fingers were reminding me of Warm Good-Mornings and breakfast, so I headed back into town.

More of Nantucket later; right now we’re getting a pretty good snow, and the roof needs tending to.

A Crossing. January 31, 2011

Posted by littlebangtheory in Art and Nature, Love and Death.
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This past weekend marked my Susan’s birthday, and to celebrate the occasion I booked us an overnight at a Bed & Breakfast on Nantucket Island.  Neither of us had ever been there before, and we were both excited to check it out.

Winter is the “off-season” at the coast, so we (correctly) assumed we’d have a quiet time away, which was just what we wanted.

Getting to Nantucket is a bit of a chore, involving a three and a half hour drive and an hour-long ferry ride out of Hyannis.  The usual commuter ferry wasn’t running, so we had to take a slightly more expensive private boat over.

Hy-Line Cruises did a nice job, though – the boat was clean and fast and steady, a relief to the two of us, who are inveterate land-lubbers.

Here’s our ride, the Lady Martha:

I planned to snag a window seat to take a few photographs, but the windows were caked with salt spray on the outside so that was out.  Instead, we spent a fair part of the ride on the upper rear deck, where the views were exciting for this hill town boy.

We picked up speed as soon as we’d cleared the Hyannisport jetties:

The mainland receded quickly, leaving me scanning the horizon for our destination.  Here’s a view out the bow windows:

,,,nope, nothin’ but water and sky.

It was chilly out in the wind:

…so we ducked inside for a while.

Most of an hour passed before Nantucket reared its low, gentle “heads,” as coastal highlands are called in these parts, and I annoyed my fellow passengers by shouting, “Land, Ho!” in my best Mr. Krabs voice:

We rounded Brant Point:

…and docked.

Next, “On The Island Of Nantucket!”