Local Color

It’s the dead of winter here in the Outer Cape, and it’s been unusually cold and snowy. That doesn’t stop me from getting outside, though. Here are a few cell-phone shots from some recent walks around Wellfleet:

First, our little wooded lane, after Tuesday’s snowstorm:

Next, a few shots of Duck Harbor from about ten days ago. (The beach faces due west, across Cape Cod Bay.) These were taken at the end of a rainy day:

 

 
Just as the sun was about to set, the clouds broke. Here’s some of that famous Cape light:

It’s been so cold that the harbor was choked with ice earlier today:

From Powers Landing, a couple of days ago: snow, sand, ice, sea, and sky.

And from just before sunset today, a view of The Gut, from the Herring River dike:

I feel sorry, sometimes, for the throngs of people who come here every summer, but never get to see how beautiful it is in the winter. Can’t really say I miss ’em, though.

5 Comments

  1. Great shots. Very tranquil, like a terraformed Mars.

    “The Gut,” eh? Sounds like my kinda’ place.

    Posted January 28, 2014 at 1:00 am | Permalink
  2. Dom says

    “Cape light” is a gorgeous shot!

    Posted January 28, 2014 at 8:13 am | Permalink
  3. I have had (and continue to have) a love/hate relationship with snow. It was particularly hateful for me during my years at Cornell in upstate New York. But I do miss it these days, now that I am no longer obliged to struggle against it, and it never snows anyway.

    Can’t live with it; can’t live without it …

    Posted January 28, 2014 at 10:55 am | Permalink
  4. Eric says

    Snow is always pretty to look at, but a pain to actually have to live with. I’m happier here in the Pacific Northwet.

    Posted January 28, 2014 at 2:33 pm | Permalink
  5. Bill says

    Superb pictures, and made with a cell-phone camera. Just goes to show it is the artist and not the tools that make for great work.

    Posted January 29, 2014 at 10:03 pm | Permalink

Post a Comment

Your email is never shared. Required fields are marked *

*
*