My first post from the East Coast. Wildly overdue. I have a lot of photos and excursions to detail, and they're just going to have to be out of order. Today is Christmas Eve. And I had a great day, so here I am, finally sitting down to write.
I arrived here in New England some four months ago in late August, 2012. I had never been here before and didn't quite know what to expect. I remember that warm day that I drove across the New York - Connecticut border, and wound my way down through the state to the coast, and on to New London. I was instantly intrigued and a little spellbound by what I saw, and what I felt. I soon found an apartment overlooking the Mystic River and as I continued to explore the area and venture further and further up and down the coasts, and into the interior, I fell in love. The land here is almost...alive. There is a character to it. A personality. The light itself, whether warm or cool, thinly veils some sort of soul behind it. It frustrates me greatly that I can't adequately put into words the impression that New England has given me, and continues to give me. I think that's what is so impressive - that it continues. There are no bad days exploring. No matter which direction I choose - driving five minutes, or five hours, the result is the same. New England delivers.
I don't dare to compare this side of the world with the West Coast. Not because one is better than the other, but because they are so different. Those that know me, know that I love California. I very nearly left my career to stay there. I love it there. And I always will. I've talked a lot of crap about the East Coast in my time (mostly referring to the Mid-Atlantic, which I still not particularly drawn to), but those cuts were clearly spoken in complete naivety of New England. I'm not afraid to say it, I love New England. Like the lure of a beautiful, mysterious new girl in the back of the class, this place has a special hold on me, and I've never quite felt such a serene comfort.
I will have to revisit my earlier excursions into Maine, Massachusetts, New Hampshire and Rhode Island (I've been busy the last four months), but for now I'll just talk about today.
I headed east for a little area called Beavertail State Park, at the southern tip of Jamestown in Rhode Island. This was supposed to just be a stop off on my way to Sachuest Point Nat'l Wildlife Refuge further east past Newport. Beavertail was a lot cooler than I had anticipated. The lighthouse, which was only the 3rd lighthouse to be built in the colonies, was impressive. The rocks below it, on all sides, were even more so. I didn't get to see Winslow Homer's rocks off Prout's Neck on a day with good light (it was overcast and dreary that day), but I was more impressed with these, by far. The unique blends and bands of color in the rocks, the lines, the slates, it was beautiful to look at.
I didn't see too many interesting birds, beyond the usual gulls, but I didn't stay too long as I wanted to get out to Sachuest Point. To my disappointment, then I got there a half hour later, the refuge was closed due to Hurricane Sandy damage. I did see some Sanderlings running around on the beach. After watching them for a bit, I detoured down through Newport's mansions and was pretty blown away. How that many people had (or have) that much money is completely beyond my comprehension. Some of them even looked abandoned, it was crazy. Definite inspiration for moody, mysterious stories. I did run into the Nat'l Museum of American Illustration, which I didn't know existed, but will most definitely be back for. It was a good day. And to top it all off, the timeless aroma of wood-burning stoves and fireplaces is filling Mystic on this brisk Christmas Eve. Life is good.
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