The most exciting news is that I’ve made it off the Cape after six weeks! It didn’t let me escape easily, creating high winds that had me white-knuckling the drive over the Bourne Bridge, but Bella was a champ and Breeze followed along behind very well.
I spent my last week just barely on the Cape, in the lovely town of Sandwich, at Shawme-Crowell State Forest. It’s a weird little campground, with some sites right up against the noise of Route 6 and all of the sites having somewhat challenging access (no pavement, just mud, dirt and tree roots). To make up for it, though, it had several trails, including a loop that met up midway with the Heritage Gardens. That’s a lovely place to wander, and it even has a carousel!
I know forests are different on the east coast than the west, but my brain has a hard time thinking “Oh, this is a forest” when I grew up with sequoias and redwoods. It is more lush on the east coast, though, because all those thinner, smaller trees let the light get down to the ground, encouraging ferns, mushrooms and all sorts of things to grow down there.
As befits the last week of true summer (defined as before Labor Day), I played tourist around town, first hitting up the Glass Museum. These candlesticks were four of about a hundred on display. I kind of wanted them all, even though I’ve nowhere to put them!
On my last full day, I walked over to the Cape Cod Canal and visited the museum there, which had great, engaging stuff for kids. I liked this old light the best.
The move Tuesday from Cape to the North Shore was a trip down memory lane: Passed Westboro (job), Stow (home), Acton (home), Chelmsford (ah, that ice cream shop!), and then, Salisbury, where about two lifetimes ago, I finished a 20-miler in horrible wind only because a friend explained Dante’s Inferno to me as we ran the last half.
It’s lovely here: salt marsh on one side (shown below), Merrimack River on another, and the surf of the Atlantic Ocean completes the waters on this little peninsula of a campground.
I’m doing some research around here on a few family branches, not sure what I’ll find, but it’s been interesting trying to track down details. The internet is sure great for that. I’ve already found out my maternal grandmother’s father was from Nova Scotia. So I’m kind of Canadian, right?
And as if this place isn’t cool enough, the laundromat used to be a bank.
And all you’ll hear is the music
And beauty stands before you
And love comes back around again
It’s a carousel, my friend.