This grindstone in our neighborhood is the only remaining artifact from a windmill that stood on this site for 175 years, dating back to around 1635, when the Old Saybrook area was first colonized by Europeans. I love how the osprey nest (barely visible in the marsh on the left) echoes its shape, and further, the prehuman history of the area.
Did I mention that this December day – with temps around 60 and a breeze from a Summer, somewhere – drew me out for not just one, but two long walks?
Halloween passes, and the call for pumpkins takes a nosedive. Those that didn’t sell here are headed back from whence they came, LongShot Farms in Old Lyme, where they will be smashed open and fed to the cattle.
I have a kayak and had a canoe, but beyond that the allure of the boating life is pretty much lost on me. On this night though, with low humidity, a low dew point and a full moon rising, a bit of the magic came through.
The remarkable colors of this sunset (photo not retouched in any way) are probably a result of the wildfires burning out in the Pacific Northwest and western Canada this summer, and the east-west flow of particulate matter. I first noticed this effect in 1991, weeks after Mt. Pinatubo erupted in the Philippines, when the sunset sky here in the Northeast turned a soft, otherworldly purple for some time.
