Looking for inspiration by the sea

“These are among the most important times in one’s life – when one is alone.  Certain springs are tapped only when we are alone.  The artist knows he must be alone to create, the writer, to work out his thoughts, the musician, to compose, the saint, to pray.  But women need solitude in order to find again the true essence of themselves, that firm strand which will be the indispensable center of a whole web of human relationships.”  — Anne Morrow Lindbergh from A Gift From the Sea

Another day, another deserted beach to explore.  I drove down to Chatham for the day.  I had a great start on the beach at Chatham Light.  It was a gray day, a little windy, a little chilly.  But the walk on the beach was just glorious.  Chatham (pronounced “Cha-dem”) is at the bottom of the “elbow” of the Cape.  Its barrier islands have often been battered by storms, and at high tide, whole swaths of land off in the distance disappear beneath the waves.   The Chatham Light House has been moved back from the cliff several times as the storms have claimed more land for the sea.  As you watch the waves on Chatham Beach, you can see them breaking on sand bars far out to sea.  The beach is famous for seal-watching, but they must have gone to warmer spots today.  Even without the seals, it’s really beautiful there.  I picked up a green-gray stone that reminded me of the colors of the clouds and the waves.

    
Chatham Light House up close and then from the beach.  Notice the stairs just in front of the lighthouse.  That green you see to the right of the stairs is all cliff.

     
The picture on the left gives you an idea of the full expanse of the beach at Chatham Light.  It was taken from halfway down the stairs below the lighthouse.  The second was taken at the far end of the beach.  I walked the shore line all the way out to where it starts to curve back beyond the tidal pool in the distance.  I wanted to capture the pounding of the waves.  I wish you could hear it.  Music.

The town of Chatham itself is quite elegant.  Driving along Shore Drive near the lighthouse and around some of the neighborhoods near the center of town, you see some of the most spectacular houses.  Real gems of Cape architecture and true dream houses by the shore (we’re talking multi-million dollar, I bet).  Gray cedar shingles, huge white multi-paned windows, grand porches, beautifully manicured lawns, ocean views.  Wow.  I hope the people who get to live in them take the time to savor them!  I wanted to take pictures, but it’s hard to do when you’re driving, plus I thought it might be rude (and slightly stalker-like) to take pictures of other people’s houses. 

  
This shot of dream beach homes was taken from the beach below Chatham Light.  Great property (except in a storm, I guess).

After the walk on the beach, I “did the town.”  Main Street in Chatham has a lot of really nice gift stores.  I wondered up and down for several hours.  Picked up a few small gifts for myself – a book (I don’t have enough of those), and a lovely enamel owl (that’s hinged as a box) that I can’t wait to show you. 

I wanted to have lunch at the Chatham Bars Inn, but the Beach House was still closed (the season doesn’t start here for another month), and the Inn itself was too ritzy for a light bite.  But the Inn is breathtakingly gorgeous from the outside – an entire facade of divided light windows in a gentle curve.  I’ll have to get inside next time I come to the Cape.  I had a perfectly nice lunch in town at the Wild Goose Tavern instead.

After lunch and a little more window shopping, I took a drive along Route 28, knowing that it winds through some really nice areas and skirts Pleasant Bay, which is also quite lovely.  Unfortunately, there was no place to stop to take in the view.  (The first time I came to the Cape, I wound up having lunch at a hotel on Pleasant Bay, and got to enjoy the view a little longer then.)  By early afternoon, it was raining intermittently, so a nice drive kept me dry while still being a tourist.   

I decided to head back to my room, and took a short detour into Nickerson Park, where I thought I might want to ride a bike or walk later this weekend.  NOT!  Basically it’s woods – acres and acres of woods with steep biking/hiking trails running among the trees.  I’m not really a woods person – too many ticks and bugs and other wild things I’d prefer not to meet along a trail.  I did try to find a pond that’s in the middle of the park.  After getting lost and turning around, I found a dirt road that led down to the pond.  It was full of potholes that reminded me of the roads at Grove Point (family reference).  There was a teeny-tiny beach there, populated by four burly-looking fishermen who had to wonder why a woman in a red car stopped, took a picture, and left.  I was just really out of place there.  But I drive by that park coming and going to the inn all the time, so now I know what’s behind the entrance gate.

          
Trees, more trees, and a big old pond. 
Guess you have to be a camper to appreciate it. 

Back in my room, I curled up in my sitting room and finished a book.  It was The Last Lecture by Randy Pausch.  You may have heard about his story from a recent interview with Diane Sawyer.  He’s exactly the kind of professor I would love to be.  Brilliant, challenging, and fun.  The book has lots of great advice about following your dreams and living for the moment (Dr. Pausch is fighting cancer).  He says, “In the end, educators best serve students by helping them be more self-reflective.”  Amen to that!  He compares being a professor to being a personal trainer for the mind.

“We professors play the roles of trainers, giving people access to the equipment (books, labs, our expertise) and after that, it is our job to be demanding.  We need to make sure that our students are exerting themselves.  We need to praise them when they deserve it and to tell them honestly when they have it in them to work harder.  Most importantly, we need to let them know how to judge for themselves how they’re coming along.  A professor’s job is to teach students how to see their minds growing.”

What an inspiring image – both for my teaching and for my day-to-day work (to some degree).  On my beach walks, I’ve been mulling over my professional goals, trying to narrow to a few specific actions and activities.  Before bed tonight, I’ll finally put pen to paper and start to sort through the possibilities.  But I’d surely love to be as respected and inspirational to my students as Randy Pausch has been to his. 

It’s raining pretty hard now – we’re supposed to get a lot of rain tonight, but it will hopefully clear up a bit by tomorrow afternoon.  Even in the drizzle, I took an evening walk on Paine’s Beach after dinner.  It was sort-of monochromatic – smooth gray cloud cover, choppy dark gray water, even the wet sand was grayish in the twilight.  I picked up a velvety black stone.  Goodnight, moon.

    Paine’s Creek Beach at twilight.