My Moody Bay

I love my Smithtown Bay even when it’s feeling dull, rainy and lethargic, like today. There was not a sole on the beach today because let’s face-most people and critters and fair weather friends! I’m here. I still love you, Smithtown Bay! It was me and the ducks. I sat on a wet bench and had my moment of Zen, and enjoyed watching the drizzle on the flat, mirror-like surface of the water. That bay sure is a bi-polar presence. Last week that bay was so angry and churned up. Today…ah…just chillin’. I took some photos of the beautiful red sand that runs along the shore line. I just think this sand makes for a perfect backdrop for the shells and rocks. Who needs an art gallery?

Ice Breaker

It is a rare sight to see the Smithtown Bay frozen. But last night when I went down to see the water it was eerily quiet. The water was frozen as far as my eyes could see in the dark. I had to take my hood, hat and ear muffs off to make sure I could hear the water moving at all. The bay was in lock down. This morning, the water was freed from the ice, except for about 30 feet along the shoreline, where it had been transformed into a beautiful frozen pattern of ice. Little ice berg chunks were floating out in the water. All this means one thing—wow, it’s cold. These cold snaps can sometimes result in star fish washing up onto the beach and later today I will set out on an exploration to see if I can find any. Then it’s off to the south shore (Maybe Robert Moses) somewhere around 5 p.m. because I want to try and see the giant orange full moon that is supposed to rise this evening following the sunset. Why didn’t I become an astronomer?

Sunrise hour

The Smithtown Bay usually shines at sunset hour, but sunrise is also magical here. The light is pink and peachy. There seems to be a whole energy shift in the atmosphere at this hour and you can almost feel the Earth and sky waking up. Even the sound of the waves and the wind are different.

I think that even if I closed my eyes and you spun me around in a circle, I could still tell it was sunrise hour. Of course I want to get down the stairs first, before trying that experiment.

I want to live in a lighthouse

I took a bike ride today. It was the one I call the “Triple Crown

” because it takes me out and back from three scenic points along the North Shore-Crane Neck, Old Field and Strong Neck. (Gee, we have a lot of “necks” around here, don’t we? But they are all beautiful necks.) My favorite leg of the ride is the Old Field Point Lighthouse. I love this lighthouse and always imagine how happy I would be living there. Maybe I was born a few centuries too late because no one really lives in lighthouses anymore. It seems most of them are all automatic. But I think that we should bring back lighthouse keepers, and when I get old (or older I should say) instead of moving into assisted living, I’ll just go live in the Old Field Point Lighthouse. I have all the proper qualifications for being a lighthouse keeper. 1. I like being alone. Most lighthouse keepers went months without seeing another person, but of course, it’s not like the Old Field Lighthouse is on a tiny rock in the middle of the Sound. I can still have lots of company! Or not. 2. I would decorate the lighthouse with holiday lights every year and have a big party for everyone. The Montauk Point Lighthouse gets all lit up and I think we should follow suit. I will include hot chocolate. 3. I like looking at water. This quality is perfect for being a lighthouse keeper, isn’t it? I never get tired of looking out at the water, so I believe this should make me number one on the hiring list. 4. I would live there and do the job for nothing. Imagine having that perfect piece of waterfront property and no rent. 5. I would give free tours of the lighthouse to anyone who loves lighthouses and to school children. 6. I am a mom, so I think I would be very good at yelling things like “Watch out for that rock!” or “What are you doing out in this storm anyway? Come in here!” or “Didn’t you hear my foghorn? I didn’t blow that foghorn to amuse myself.” So I would like the Village of Old Field to think about my offer. Especially the part about the holiday lights! To read more about my…I mean, our Old Field Point Lighthouse, please see this very informative link:http://www.lighthousefriends.com/light.asp?ID=745

Life abounds even in December

Beach Lady has been on patrol throughout this Post Christmas/Pre New Year’s week off. Every day I go for a four mile trek on the beach (still looking for that suitcase full of money) and take in all that’s new, changed or unusual. Yesterday Beach Lady was almost blown off her feet by the stiff winds blowing from off the Sound. (No small feat since I have never been referred to as “petite”). I found several crabs that had been stranded by the high tide and I saved all of them, telling them how lucky they were to be found by me, a vegetarian, and not by some famished sea gull. Today I found four horse shoe crabs STILL ALIVE on the beach. This is very unusual at this time of year. I threw them back into the water and instructed them to “do whatever you guys do during the winter.” This evening I watched the sunset and got more than I hoped for when four deer walked right in front of me. Only the largest deer knew I was there spying on them. The other smaller ones were oblivious.

Usually the deer have a deal that they don't come come out until sunset, but they were early this evening.

You just have to look for it

There is beauty every where here, even on a rainy day. Sometimes you just have to look a little harder for it. The Smithtown Bay is calm as a lake today and ducks are hanging out waiting for the fog to lift or hunters' guns to stop going off. I'd keep my head down, too. These bittersweet were still holding tight

to some raindrops.

Winter blows in

Okay, okay enough with the cold wind. I am still chilly from not having any heat two weeks ago. After yesterday's warm, sunny day, today felt bone chilling, although I am sure it probably did not even reach freezing. I still have flash backs to those cold nights without power and it felt colder. The waves on Smithtown Bay were four feet high this morning. They were crashing on the shore and waves usually "lap" onto the shore here, not crash! The sunset tonight took on the look of a religious painting right before the second coming. The sun hid behind the clouds and sent out streaks of light into the sky. I think I heard a choir singing, too and someone call my name.