I went down to the warm, warm water
I had an appointment at noon in Fort Point, so
spatch came with me and afterward we went to Castle Island. We circumnavigated Fort Independence and then the artificial enclosure of Pleasure Bay, dredged and dumped a hundred years ago to support the cranes and containers of the modern Conley Terminal. The air was hot as July and billowing with sea-stacked clouds, but the shadows that kept flashing like sharks over the grass and the water belonged to low-flying planes.

Actually this rose is growing on the side of our house as part of the bush we refer to as Audrey, but I had a camera in hand for the first time in weeks and didn't want to miss it.

The first thing we did at Castle Island was order from Sullivan's as had been the plan slightly more than four years ago. At the time of this picture, I had just finished an extremely satisfactory beach dog and was enjoying my raspberry lime rickey.

The pilings stood grouped like the script of a sea-alphabet.

The chain-link netted the air.

I love the weathered periwinkle of the U.S. Army Signal Corps Station. It is the color of a nightmare I had once and the house I gave the dead man played by Roddy McDowall in "The Boatman's Cure."

I will keep writing about the heavy glass plait of seawater until I get it right or get bored, neither of which I expect.

The paint of the handrail had rusted and pitted until it looked like barnacles or coral or poisonous coloration.

I love this clouded depth of beryl, too, which I could just call aquamarine if I wanted to be literal.

The way the tide churned in under the dike, it looked like it was about to submerge.

Rob said this picture of the inflow looked as though I stood at the stern of a ship.

The metallic wrinkle of the water and the clouds like photonegatives on the sky.

Rob in his own sailor mode.

Not until I got home did I see that along with the clouds I had been trying for, I had performed an inadvertent beach Weegee and caught a dog-walker in the same frame as the sign against it.
I am tired beyond belief, but we even collected donuts from Lyndell's on the way home. It is not an overnight process, but I am beginning to feel connected to my city again.

Actually this rose is growing on the side of our house as part of the bush we refer to as Audrey, but I had a camera in hand for the first time in weeks and didn't want to miss it.

The first thing we did at Castle Island was order from Sullivan's as had been the plan slightly more than four years ago. At the time of this picture, I had just finished an extremely satisfactory beach dog and was enjoying my raspberry lime rickey.

The pilings stood grouped like the script of a sea-alphabet.

The chain-link netted the air.

I love the weathered periwinkle of the U.S. Army Signal Corps Station. It is the color of a nightmare I had once and the house I gave the dead man played by Roddy McDowall in "The Boatman's Cure."

I will keep writing about the heavy glass plait of seawater until I get it right or get bored, neither of which I expect.

The paint of the handrail had rusted and pitted until it looked like barnacles or coral or poisonous coloration.

I love this clouded depth of beryl, too, which I could just call aquamarine if I wanted to be literal.

The way the tide churned in under the dike, it looked like it was about to submerge.

Rob said this picture of the inflow looked as though I stood at the stern of a ship.

The metallic wrinkle of the water and the clouds like photonegatives on the sky.

Rob in his own sailor mode.

Not until I got home did I see that along with the clouds I had been trying for, I had performed an inadvertent beach Weegee and caught a dog-walker in the same frame as the sign against it.
I am tired beyond belief, but we even collected donuts from Lyndell's on the way home. It is not an overnight process, but I am beginning to feel connected to my city again.

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Yay!
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*hugs*
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I love this image, and I love the patterns of water in your photos, as well as the piling alphabet.
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Thank you! The pilings are actually my favorite.
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According to the internet, my childhood experience of raspberry lime rickeys is an extremely New England/Massachusetts thing! I've never even heard of a cherry lime rickey, traditional in New York. I have had plain lime rickeys, which I like but not as much.
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I forgot to ask the important thing, which is, did you enjoy your lime rickeys in Boston in 1973?
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Thank you! I do plan to spend tomorrow doing as much nothing as possible.
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Thank you!
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This is a magnificent photoessay. I can almost smell the salt.
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Thank you. I hope you have real salt in store.
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Thank you! I have no doubt it was named encouragingly, but it does make me very happy.
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I especially loved that photo, they look a bit like ghosts walking out to sea. And I hope you could get some rest!
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Thank you! We turned the corner of the fort and they were just there, reflecting, and I loved them.
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Thank you for sharing the photos. They're great, and I like the pilings one particularly.
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Thank you! The recovery is shakier than I had hoped, but the sea was still worth it.
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