A few years ago in mid-April, I sailed solo through foggyBoston Harbor to Peddocks Island. It was late afternoon, so I grabbed my camera, and rowed to shore in my dinghy where I thought I’d get a couple pics before sunset. I didn’t pull the dinghy as far from the water as an intelligent person would have. It was nearly sunset; how far could I go? I seemed to be the only human on the island. Great pictures everywhere I looked - stunning vistas, and a deer leapt 7 feet high over a bush, practically landing at my feet. On my way back to the beach, several other people came out of nowhere and were following me?!?
That was when I saw my dinghy passing my boat its the way back to Boston. There was just one option. I had to put my camera and almost all of my clothes on the beach (well above the tide line), swim out to my boat–50 yards, 40 degree water temps–pull up anchor, then drive on over to pick up the dinghy, drive back, drop anchor, row to shore, get my camera and clothes, row back,and call it a day.
But then, the kayak instructor wandered over (yes, they were kayakers) and asked what was going on. I told him. He said he’d go rescue my dinghy, a mile away now. He delivered, and he refused any payment. He asked me to donate to Thomson Island, an amazing resource for Boston youth. I donated.
What does this have to do with these prints??? While standing on the beach plotting and worrying, I noticed while the fog had hidden the whole city, I saw this skinny little stick poking above the fog. I didn’t know what It was yet, but I took pics. It turned out to be Boston’s 2nd tallest building, the Prudential. As all the other drama played out, the fog lowered and the sun dropped perfectly behind the 50th floor of the Pru before disappearing into the fog. Absolute magic.
A few years ago in mid-April, I sailed solo through foggyBoston Harbor to Peddocks Island. It was late afternoon, so I grabbed my camera, and rowed to shore in my dinghy where I thought I’d get a couple pics before sunset. I didn’t pull the dinghy as far from the water as an intelligent person would have. It was nearly sunset; how far could I go? I seemed to be the only human on the island. Great pictures everywhere I looked - stunning vistas, and a deer leapt 7 feet high over a bush, practically landing at my feet. On my way back to the beach, several other people came out of nowhere and were following me?!?
That was when I saw my dinghy passing my boat its the way back to Boston. There was just one option. I had to put my camera and almost all of my clothes on the beach (well above the tide line), swim out to my boat–50 yards, 40 degree water temps–pull up anchor, then drive on over to pick up the dinghy, drive back, drop anchor, row to shore, get my camera and clothes, row back,and call it a day.
But then, the kayak instructor wandered over (yes, they were kayakers) and asked what was going on. I told him. He said he’d go rescue my dinghy, a mile away now. He delivered, and he refused any payment. He asked me to donate to Thomson Island, an amazing resource for Boston youth. I donated.
What does this have to do with these prints??? While standing on the beach plotting and worrying, I noticed while the fog had hidden the whole city, I saw this skinny little stick poking above the fog. I didn’t know what It was yet, but I took pics. It turned out to be Boston’s 2nd tallest building, the Prudential. As all the other drama played out, the fog lowered and the sun dropped perfectly behind the 50th floor of the Pru before disappearing into the fog. Absolute magic.