Beach

Here are a few more shots Aaron's Beach shots taken after the demise of my favorite tree, which no longer stands on the little point of beach to the right, above.

In spite of my lack of reporting here on this blog, there's been plenty going on lately, most of which I've not had time nor energy nor desire, really, to write about.

One thing I did accomplish this week--to give me some hope, something to look forward to--was finalize our family vacation this summer.  This will be our last family vacation before Son gallops trots off to college, and I'm looking forward to it immensely.

In unrelated news, I am surprisingly excited about the UVA basketball game this evening.  Since graduating in 1986, I've not kept up with any of their sports.  Last Sunday I tuned in to watch the last few minutes of the ACC Championship.  Perhaps because I'm still wound up from Daughter's basketball season, perhaps because Son may go there in the fall, I was easily engrossed and, as I say, will be watching this evening, provided I can hold my eyes open after this long, arduous week.

Have a great weekend.

The Tree

Once upon a time back in 2009, Chesapeake Bay Woman's son and daughter were young enough that they didn't mind following their mother on her crazy photographic adventures, and they were as mesmerized as she by the beach called Aaron's.

At that exact same time, there was a tree that lived (even though it was dead--CBW is infamous for playing with and ignoring the rules of reality) on a perfect point of pristine sand very near a patch of old pilings.

Over the years the tree became a symbol of strength.

No matter how strong the storm winds blew, 

no matter how much the sand around it shifted,

the tree

still

stood.

Then one day, with no warning whatsoever, 

the pilings still stood.

But the tree had finally fallen.

The End.

Click here and here  (in the second link, first picture, the tree is seen way off in the distance)

for more photos of this much-loved tree that finally succumbed and surrendered.

Pine Tree

The dead tree in this picture used to be a sand-submerged pine tree at Aaron's Beach.

I've taken its picture many times but it's never looked this bad.

For the first time since I've been visiting, there isn't one bit of green clinging to it.  

It's only a matter of time before it falls.

Speaking of falling,

I was alerted by my neighbor Julie earlier this week (or was it last?)

that my Number One Favorite Tree of All Time at Aaron's Beach had fallen.

I'll post pictures of that sad sight next week.

Click here for a 2011 post that shows (in the second and third pictures, if you squint) the pine tree above in happier days.  It also shows my favorite tree (fourth picture, far right) that I'll talk more about next week.

Because that's what I do here on this blog.  Talk about inanimate objects as if they were people.

I think I may need to get out more. Or perhaps the sinus pressure is finally doing me in.

Either way, have a great weekend.

Changes

Once upon a time in 2009, a tree stood on Aaron's Beach.

Submerged in sand, the tree was a comfortable distance from the bay.

(Well, maybe not so comfortable.)

The next three shots are from 2011. Same tree but much less sand.

Erosion has uncovered the bottom half of the tree.

The beach changes with every major storm.

In spite of those changes, the tree still stands.

The Chesapeake Bay Family is on spring break this week, and we hope to spend a few days in Richmond visiting the real world and its shopping malls and restaurants.  Also, we'll see Baby Sis, who is retrieving CB Son from the Staples Mill train station this evening as Daughter and I make our way there from Mathews.  

Son has many stories from his trip to NYC, one of which involves an app for the subway system that may or may not have helped him find Chinatown. He got lost on the way there or took a wrong train or missed his stop; it was unclear from the text he sent.  Nevertheless, my 17-year-old found it on his own with some assistance from the app and his iPhone's Siri.  He said the food was fabulous. (OK, so he may not have used that word.  Fabulous is my word upon hearing his description.)

I probably won't post much for the remainder of the week but hope it's a good one for you.

Happy April.

Gone

This was taken over the winter.

Once upon a time, in a field along Route 14 in Gloucester,

next to a silo bearing a sign advertising a pumpkin farm,

there lived a beautiful, stately tree.

Here's the silo.

Mathews residents traveling to Gloucester usually pass this tree and silo.

(Some Mathews residents make far more trips to and through Gloucester than they care to, for work or other necessities. Some days CBW feels she holds the world's record for number of trips to Gloucester in a single day. But this is not about that. It's about a stately tree in the middle of a field.)

Somehow the tree made the journey a little more tolerable. Like an old friend. Always there to greet you.

One day recently Chesapeake Bay Woman, returning home from an arduous day at work, glanced towards the silo and the tree as she normally does and was mortified to see the tree knocked over on its side.

No longer standing. No longer stately.

She screamed. Really.

She was very, very shocked and distraught.

Here's the tree lying on its side. There was a bulldozer nearby, so
I assume they intentionally knocked it over. But of course I don't know that for sure.

Soon afterwards, they chopped it up and hauled it away.

Just like that the tree was gone forever.

The field looks so empty there now. It's not the same.

In addition to this tree, another Chesapeake Bay Woman Favorite--the barn below on the right of Route 198 just beyond the Farm Bureau Insurance place at Soles/Dutton--was recently torn down.

This also pains me. Immensely.

Gone forever.

Click here for a previous post outlining my not so irrational fears about this beautiful structure.

The bizarre person with unusually strong emotional connections to trees and inanimate objects such as barns and old houses will simply say The End.

Nothing lasts forever. We shouldn't take anything for granted, not even trees or barns. The End.


p.s. The owner of Sandpiper Reef in Hallieford recently matted and framed some of my photos, one of which is of the barn above. Say hello (to her and the picture of the barn) the next time you're there for happy hour, dinner or live entertainment.