#209
It is much easier to write on paper. But right now I am sitting in front of a
large picture window with a fan on me looking out over a bay in Rhode
Island. I think a storm is on its way';
the haze is filling in all around. When
we first arrived there was no wind, it was absolutely still, but now we have a
breeze. I haven't gotten my bearings so
I don't know from what direction it is coming from, but it is blowing the
grasses and the rose hips. Birds are
really active at the moment. I believe
there is a hawk pair in the scrub and a dove pair sits on the lawn at the
moment. I saw a mockingbird earlier
teasing the cat who sits on the sill of the window staring out at them, her own
private view. And of course there are
gulls. I am happy.
The thunder has begun.
I'm hoping the storm comes out over the bay and that there is lightning to photograph.
New England is in itself made up of small microcosms. I felt as though we drove through four of five different cultures today. Worcester to Providence is its own world, but the minute you get to Providence the smell of ocean takes over. And there are so many differences between Massachusetts shoreline and R.I. shoreline. It made me want to know the history of Roger Williams. How did this little piece of rocky, jetty coastline get made its own state? It is tucked between Mass and Connecticut, a protected little piece of land.
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