IMG_6744 IMG_6745 IMG_6746 IMG_6748 IMG_6775 IMG_6776 IMG_6782IMG_6772IMG_6774

We woke up in the morning with the intention of taking bikes across the island, from Oak Bluffs to Aquinnah, but the weather gods had other plans for us. Instead, we jumped on the bus, maneuvering our way from the airport, to West Tisbury, through Chilmark, and eventually landing at the old fishing village of Menemsha. By then, it had stopped raining, but the haze remained. The harbor, quiet, but alive. Children fishing on the pier, families climbing across the jetty. Colors reflectinh naturally on the water, radiating against the pale blues and greys. It was misty, breezy. Hazy, as if we had accidentally stepped across the threshold into an alternate dimension. A fantasy land where the only noise is the sound of fishermen unloading their catch. 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: