Rexhame Beach, Marshfield, MA, On a February Morning

Took Gizmo (my 4 year old, 110 pound golden retriever) for a walk this morning on Rexhame (that's "REX-um") to you out-of-towners.  Nearly empty.  Lovely.  About 40 degrees with a steady, light breeze.  Notice faint pink in the "cloud mountain" on the horizon in the top pic and the moon in the bottom one! Giz had a blast.  Met some other pups to play with.  Frolicked in the tide pools.  Doggy came home wet and happy and tired.  Be sure to click each one for a MUCH larger view.  You'll feel like you were right there with me!

After the Storm

Happy New Year!

Here's the same view of the front yard as the previous post.

That's the Atlantic Ocean way out there, beyond the peninsula of land belonging to neighboring Scituate known as Humarock, The South River, marshland, and Tilden Island on the left.  

If you click on the picture, you will see a much enlarged view, and you will see the row of all the houses on Humarock, which, during the Great Blizzard of 1978 were swept out to sea.   When we moved here we asked the neighbors who had been here for it if they "Sipped martinis and watched Humarock wash away," and they said, in essense, "Yeah.  What else would one do?"  (They're not that callous, really!  But that was the sum and total of what happened!)

Sometimes we hear rifle fire from hunters coming from the island.  I didn't know what it was!  I had to ask Mike, who grew up in the mean streets of Stockton, CA, to tell me what the sound of gunfire was!

In any event, as stated in morse code jewelry's literature, it was just off the the right of the frame of this photo, just a little further along the coast where Reginald Fessendon made his historic radio exchange.  morse code jewelry really is made within sight of the waters where that forgotten piece of radio history was made.  It's not jive!

Snowing, snowing, snowing....

Just back from another gourmet New Year's feast at a neighbor's house--mercifully just around the corner, but a daunting trek through foot high drifts of snow--but before I retired for the evening and wished all well for 2009, I wanted to post this picture I took this afternoon out of my living room window into my front yard. Somewhere out there is the Atlantic ocean... Way beyond those windswept, frozen trees.  Please note, the photo isn't meant to be high art!  Merely documentary of the weather.

I am grateful beyond description for things for which I am well aware and need not share here, but wish it to be known:  I am listening.  I hear.  I am honored.  I endeavor to be worthy of the dreams driving my daily efforts .

Hazzah!