O Chatham! My Chatham!

Rarely would I ever venture into Chatham Village on a gray Saturday morning at the peak of summer.

But I was desperate for buttons. For trimming a hat that ships on Monday.

It was too early for Ben Franklin to be open, so I headed straight to the Lighthouse where I found the sun doing its utmost best to pierce through the fog.

There was a group doing yoga out in the dunes, and the lighthouse was sending its own bright beam out into the rough, misty sea.


In all directions people walked the shoreline, undaunted by the fog. And thrilling to feel the sand between their toes and the salt air filling their lungs.


Cormorants, terns, gulls and eiders were in the air, on the sand and the sea, reveling in all that seabirds love.


The harbor master was making his rounds, splashing through the surf and gearing up for a busy weekend.


(I wasn’t going to be the one to tell him that not everyone there was impressed by the show!)


Standing there, all I could think of was how delicious it was going to be to return to this very spot, come Labor Day.

With camera in hand and a song in my heart, glorying in the quieter days on this sandspit I adore.

‘Til then, be well, O Chatham! My Chatham!  It won’t be long now!  ❤

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