A visit from Irene

My next posting was to offer some early observations concerning the change our move north has brought with regard to our family life. But Hurricane Irene interjected herself into this plan, so I will instead share a couple of pictures taken a few blocks from our house. I went down to the Swampscott bay twice during the storm. The first time with Trudi, the rain and wind were so fierce, we had trouble seeing. It was just high tide, and waves were crashing over the sea wall onto the sidewalk. We stood in awe for about 3 minutes and then beat a hasty retreat. About 3 hours later, the rain had abated, so I ventured down again. As I got to the shore, an unmanned sailboat was being picked up by the waves and carried across the harbor at considerable speed. It grounded itself on the sand in pretty fair shape. I was able to take a few photos included one that shows a second unfortunate boat.

I am not sure what the next high tide will bring, but I am afraid their end will not be pretty.

Irene reminds us, as did last week’s East Coast earthquake, that we all have in Mother Nature, a kind but strict parent, another family member who deserves our love and respect.

Bike rides from home – we’re not on the W&OD anymore Toto

We have two obvious choices when leaving our new house by bike to take a bit of exercise. The two options both start by heading down to the ocean. Turning right at the shore offers the opportunity to bike along the breakwater promenade which parallels the Lynnway.

The latter is a four lane road with a lot of relatively slow moving traffic that lies between the breakwater and a mix of beach homes, apartments, and large restored Victorian houses. You are sharing the promenade with all varieties of pedestrians, dog walkers, baby carriage pushers, joggers, skaters and other bikers. Therefore, the pace is of necessity a leisurely one. The view of the Bay is lovely and there is often a breeze.

People watching is definitely a distraction. About halfway on this ride the path veers south and follows the causeway on a separated trail to Little Nahant and Nahant. The beach at Nahant is wide and shallow even at high tide. It seems perfect for kite flying, paddleboarding, sand castles, and wading.

There are great views back to Swampscott, out to several islands in the Bay, or toward the packed houses perched on the hills of the Nahants.

One way distance to the far end of Nahant Beach 3 ¼ miles.

[Other photos to be added as they come available, that is, as I remember to bring my camera along]

Turning left at the shore has us riding in traffic through an older commercial section of Swampscott offering a smattering of restaurants, ice cream places, a great Jewish bakery, and many beauty parlors and dentist offices. After a brief stretch, the road enters a residential section and we bike along with traffic on a wide two lane road. There would be adequate width, I believe, to define a bike lane, and certainly there are plenty of bikers travelling in both directions, but none is delineated. At the Swampscott/Marblehead border, we pass Trudi’s favorite town beach, Preston Beach. Once in Marblehead, the road widens, the pavement improves, the traffic lessens a bit, and the road becomes shaded on both sides with stretches of maples and beech trees. Turning right on Ocean Street leads to Marblehead neck and Devereaux Beach, which we have not tried as yet. Across the causeway from the beach is Marblehead Harbor, a sheltered harbor so stuffed with sailboats that you could probably walk across it from boat to boat without getting wet. One way distance to Devereaux Beach 3 ¾ miles.

In both cases, the rides could be extended by riding the circumference of Nahant or Marblehead Neck, which I am sure we will do at some point in the not too distant future.

Memorials

The formal entrance to the Olmsted historic district where we now live is a lovely, if shortish, boulevard called Memorial Avenue. The town keeps it well manicured and planted as it rolls down a mild hill to the Bay. In length at most a quarter mile, it includes eight monuments to wars fought by American forces. The more I thought about it, the more I wondered if all small New England towns are as enthusiastic as Swampscott in erecting war memorials, or if the town fathers over the last 130 years felt some pressure given the expanse of green space made available by Olmsted’s plan to stock it with granite and bronze. I also wonder if Olmsted envisioned how the coming decades would create no shortage of opportunities to memorialize the sacrifice of its townspeople to war.

The memorials above in order are for: World War II, Korea, Vietnam, The World War, Desert Storm, Revolutionary War, World War I dead, and The Civil War dead.

Perhaps not surprising, the town has a standing War Memorial Committee, which rolled out plans in December 2010 for a future memorial to those from the town who have served in the War on Terror.
Inscribed on the back of the sand-colored stone memorial to service in Desert Storm in quotation marks, but unattributed, are these words: “Desert Storm truly was a victory of good over evil, of freedom over tyranny, of peace over war”. I couldn’t resist searching out the author of these stirring, if somewhat puzzling words. The answer, in case you didn’t know, is Dan Quayle. Clearly I have much to learn about our new town.

Wednesday in the park with Adella

What a great thing it is to be able to drop in on our granddaughter and her folks for an afternoon in the park

What's the opposite of deja vu?

For me, living in a new place has been sort of like being on an extended trip to a location I’m only vaguely  familiar with.  Moving  out of the behavioral grooves (or ruts) I dug for myself since retirement by following comfortable, comforting routines has been disorienting.  I find the smallest things require my  attention --  I can’t fall back on having done something umpteen times before.    Whether its finding my way to the bathroom at night, heating the omelet pan properly on the electric range after 40 years of cooking on gas ranges, or locating the bulk grains at Whole Paycheck, everything is new again.

Predictably, driving is one area that this heightened attending is most important.  North Shore drivers seem much more assertive than drivers in Northern Virginia.  If there is a truck stopped in the oncoming lane, drivers coming toward you just take your lane to pass it.  The fact that they are coming directly at you doesn’t seem to phase them at all.  Similarly, left turns across your lane are done without hesitation.  Even pedestrians seem to practice assertive walking.  Crossing the road on foot day and night is done apparently without considering that drivers might have trouble picking out pedestrians from the background noise surrounding them.    Most secondary roads are typically in terrible condition, and require constant vigilance not to hit a large pot hole or jagged pavement at speed.  And road names themselves often change as I cross town lines in a way that reduces my confidence in exactly where the hell I’ve gotten to.

I find that all this “attending” leaves me pretty worn out by mid afternoon.  On the other hand, it probably is staving off Alzheimer’s.