exploring & escapades

Category: Places

England in the summertime is a totally different place, which even the locals know and fully embrace. Before I lived here, I had only ever travelled to Europe in the wintertime, and I never thought much of it – it was more affordable. But now that I’ve had the chance to spend bits of summer here, it’s as if I have made a trip to an entirely new place. It’s something to be experienced. Picnic blankets and warm-weather bike rides, sweating from the sun on your skin, not from the three coats you’re wearing. Punt rides where the prosecco is truly refreshing. The streets are calmer, the students, gone. I’m happy that I’ve been able to be here to feel it, this brief flash of light.

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Cambs Summer

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Sep 20
Brighton was so *interesting.* I had been pre-warned about it’s rocky beaches and crowded pier – by no means was I expecting the natural beauty of Cape Cod. And even still, it was unexpected in a fascinating way. Just the swarms of people, everywhere – literally. The city overflows, it spills entirely over the streets and to the ocean. The buzz is pervasive. One could easily forget it wasn’t all natural to the land. And the color! The carnival! The fireworks! It was a lot; larger than life. A city that wants to be a beach, and a beach that wants to be a city.

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Brighton

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Sep 15
My last day at home of the summer. Hot. Extremely hot. Mussels and clam ‘chowdah.’ The last catch of the day, trucks pulling boats from the water. Waves crashing on the rocks at high-tide, a seawall sunset.

My American poem.

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Marshfield

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Sep 13
I love this farm. I’ve posted about it so many times, I know, so I won’t bore with details. My brother and I spent the afternoon here, at Sweet Berry Farm, picking blueberries and frolicking in the field of sunflowers. It was *wonderful.*

It’s a tradition we have, to come here. Every time I’m home, we drive the hour south the pick whatever is in season. At first, it was something to do with my “baby” brother. Now years later, he does it more to humor me than anything – a trip to the farm isn’t exactly on the top of the average fourteen year-old boy’s to-do-list – but it makes it all the more special. This thing, in this magical place, that we do, always, together.

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Sweet Berry Farm

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Sep 8
A grey and rainy day on Cape Cod brought us to busy and bustling Hyannis, but rather than join the summer crowds on Main Street, we headed down to the harbor, quiet and removed from the town’s activities given the inclement weather. I loved the little artist cottages that lined the walk and the old fishing ships. The rain even stopped for us. Unexpectedly, charming.

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Hyannis Harbor

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Sep 6
Strolling down Main Street in Harwich Port, we veered off down a side-street, intrigued by the blue sky drop-off at the end of the road, a sign that the ocean must be nearby. We weren’t disappointed. After walking through a neighborhood, we came to the smallest strip of public beach wedged between two gorgeous water-front homes. There’s no way you could fit more than five chairs and towels here; I imagine one must need to arrive very, very early in the morning to grab a place at this special, secret spot.

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Harwich Port

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Sep 1