Foggy Morn in Springs


THIS AUGUST I’VE BEEN in and out and roundabout and back and forth. I’ve spent more time on the Long Island Expressway, it sometimes seems, than in my much-loved house in Springs (East Hampton), N.Y. And I’ve fallen down the job of documenting my garden. For that I have a novel excuse besides the fact that I haven’t been here as much as I’d like: the weather’s been too good! Decent garden photography on a sunny day, in the dappled shade of tall oaks, is near impossible. But the other morning, I woke at 6, stepped outside into a misty morning, and ran to get my camera.

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5 thoughts on “Foggy Morn in Springs

  1. Heavenly! So nice to be receiving your postings again. Please get in touch. Karen Zebulon

  2. I remember many such mornings in that neck of the woods, when, as children, we prayed the mist would burn off so that we could spend the whole day in and out of Gardiner’s Bay down at Maidstone. The sandscape was flecked throughout by pale orange or yellow mother-of-pearl (or so we were told that was its name) and the ubiquitous rocks and shells and other debris from mother sea. (Sometimes, walking on it barefoot was so painful that our father used to say he wished he could get a shot of novocaine in his feet before assaying the wade into the water.) You have skillfully captured the morning ambience as well as its ever-slight Japonese feel …

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