Out at Wasque, Mother Nature has been trying out some new designs. The sand spit that has been growing offshore in front of the Fisherman’s Landing has extended all of the way to the mid-point of the Schifter’s bluff.
Sally and I have been meandering through New Mexico, Arizona and Southern California for the past 10 days. There is something about the exaggerated vertical and horizontal scale of this land that is rejuvenating to me.
When you drive past me on the road I’m humming along to country or folk music on the radio, but when you pass Abigail Southard Chandler she’s likely to be going over the arias.
The Trustees of Reservations, in an effort to cultivate more public interest in Mytoi Garden, have concluded that perhaps all that is needed is a name change.
If you haven’t been in the Martha’s Vineyard Hospital lately, I’m happy for you. That’s usually good news, but you’ve been missing out on the fabulous exhibits of photographs and paintings in the main hall.
About two years ago Skip Bettencourt and I were looking out over the Katama opening from atop the bluff near the Wacks’ house. Norton Point had grown eastward rapidly to within several hundred yards of the Chappaquiddick shore. At that moment the flow of water through the opening was barely discernible. Regardless of what I knew of the well-documented timetable that previous openings had followed, I could easily picture this one choked off by sand very soon and in the very location that it then occupied.
