2007-12-26
christmas
Images from our annual sunrise trip
For those who don't know me, every Christmas morning my friend Lorraine and I drive to Misquamicut Beach to witness the sun rise. This year we also witnessed the full moon setting in the west.
Unlike past years, there was no bagpiper to provide music. He usually played facing the ocean standing atop the decks to the state park buildings shown above. We missed his presence. Those high-pitched tunes had become part of our Christmas tradition. I hope he is well.
Our annual sojourn gives us times to reflect on our lives during the past year, share our joys and rough moments, and to pay homage to those we have loved who have passed on. Each sun rise reminds us that their energies live on.
Although we arrive early every year, we have rarely been the first ones visiting the beach. This year some sand buggy riders ignored the "do not disturb the dunes" signs, remnants of their tire tracks marring the fragile strata. We didn't see them but we ran into a man exercising two dogs who arrived before us.
Although we once watched a team of surfers [more intrepid souls than I] engaged in otherwise summer fun in all the years we've come [I've been doing this since 1991] we've never been able to buy a chili dog or rent an umbrella. Disappointing to say the least. Maybe some day.
The last part of the trip is to stop at a lone cedar tree that stands apart from the bunch by the side of the road. We have never been there first. Someone always puts something on the tree before us, though we've never seen them.
Oft times people drive by, honking "hello". This year someone actually stopped while we were decorating. We first thought it was the police, the ready to ticket us for littering. But it was one lone soul who asked if we needed some help.
When we first started doing this, people would look at us as though we were, well, odd. We think it is in keeping with the spirit of the Day. Of late, more people say they like it, but tell us they lack the wherewithall to commit to rising early. We much enjoy our holiday tradition. Don't know of others like ours. Do you?
Conside this an invite to share your unusual holiday story.
¶ 08:08 For those who don't know me, every Christmas morning my friend Lorraine and I drive to Misquamicut Beach to witness the sun rise. This year we also witnessed the full moon setting in the west.
Unlike past years, there was no bagpiper to provide music. He usually played facing the ocean standing atop the decks to the state park buildings shown above. We missed his presence. Those high-pitched tunes had become part of our Christmas tradition. I hope he is well.
Our annual sojourn gives us times to reflect on our lives during the past year, share our joys and rough moments, and to pay homage to those we have loved who have passed on. Each sun rise reminds us that their energies live on.
Although we arrive early every year, we have rarely been the first ones visiting the beach. This year some sand buggy riders ignored the "do not disturb the dunes" signs, remnants of their tire tracks marring the fragile strata. We didn't see them but we ran into a man exercising two dogs who arrived before us.
Although we once watched a team of surfers [more intrepid souls than I] engaged in otherwise summer fun in all the years we've come [I've been doing this since 1991] we've never been able to buy a chili dog or rent an umbrella. Disappointing to say the least. Maybe some day.
The last part of the trip is to stop at a lone cedar tree that stands apart from the bunch by the side of the road. We have never been there first. Someone always puts something on the tree before us, though we've never seen them. Oft times people drive by, honking "hello". This year someone actually stopped while we were decorating. We first thought it was the police, the ready to ticket us for littering. But it was one lone soul who asked if we needed some help.
When we first started doing this, people would look at us as though we were, well, odd. We think it is in keeping with the spirit of the Day. Of late, more people say they like it, but tell us they lack the wherewithall to commit to rising early. We much enjoy our holiday tradition. Don't know of others like ours. Do you?
Conside this an invite to share your unusual holiday story.
