What are you up to this weekend? A system of storms rolled across the eastern seaboard earlier this week, bestowing upon us unseasonably early autumnal feels — highs in the upper 70s, overnights in the lower 60s, humidity cut nearly in half to around 50%!
As I stand here in the early hours, before the sky fully wakes, there is a profound stillness. The dim headlamp on a skiff returning from a morning of fishing in Spicer Bay, barely discernible through the tall marsh grasses, and the rhythmic wing flaps of a lone Canada goose flying low overhead, are the only interruptions.
It’s my favorite time of day. The air is cool(er). The constant winds have yet to kick up. And the clouds. The clouds. If you follow my IG feed you know that our morning skies are rarely dull.
Did you catch the eclipse on Monday? Where we were in South Carolina, clouds added a little suspense, parting just in time to give us the entire show. A bright afternoon instantly turned to hazy dusk, prompting street lights to come on. Towering clouds in the distance took on an eerie glow, fighting for attention with two very visible planets. The heat and humidity dropped, ushering in a welcome two minutes of almost autumnal coolness.
And then, as soon as the “diamond ring” appeared, it was gone. The August day returned to normal as if nothing happened, crowds packing up and heading home. I was left in total awe, far more impressed than I thought I would be… also thinking to myself: Where is George Harrison when you need him?
Snapped this photo waiting in a roadwork queue on the way home from Virginia the other week. One of those mornings you could darn near wring the humidity from the thick, still air.
I can almost feel that radiating heat all over again just looking at it.
Any fun plans for the weekend? Here, a continuous August downpour means the yard is springing up at a prodigious rate. We really should mow the “field” + have a go at the weeds (wearing gloves for this demon apparently), but there’s that rain again…
With two weeks on the road in separate directions on the horizon for me, shutting in for a slowdown — or at least as much of one as I’m capable of — will be welcome. That, and soup.