I suspect I am not the only one who finds the colder months on the Eastern Shore a special time of year.
Less time on the water, but in return we are granted the most magical tidewater skies. Sunrise or sunset, sometimes fire and sometimes so faint, where the blue so softly fades into purple and pink before a final evening golden glow. And then, there is the autumn moon. The moon hangs low and sultry this time of year. Sitting close, demanding to be noticed and adored. King tides make things interesting as well, when the water rises and nips at our shores and reminds us that in the end, it rules us all. Out there are gaggles of geese trumpeting the arrival of this glorious season and… calling us home. At least, that’s how it feels to us.
We bundle up on the porch with a cup of joe or maybe a hot toddy – sit, watch & listen. The wind and leaves, the geese above the trees, soft water lapping and the occasional dog bark in the distance – it is all a grand symphony that can only be truly heard in the quieter times of the year. I hear the rhythm; I feel the sense of timelessness of this land and how we are really only visitors in our time. And that’s ok. It’s beautiful. Imagining our forefathers having the same moments is soothing and yet still brings a sense of longing. Wanting to reach out and have a moment with those who came before us. Wanting to share this moment with them together. Somehow, I think we do.
Holidays on the Eastern Shore are filled with the hustle & bustle of the season like anywhere else but if you stop, take a moment, and breathe, you can not only take in the sweeping majestic landscape, but also hear the song of seasons past and the beautiful symphony of the nature that surrounds us. It calls to us. Calls us home.