Greetings from Greenport

The shores of Peconic Bay are littered with scallop shells, stones and sea glass. This morning I found the carapace of a crab, so tiny my fingers looked like they belonged to Paul Bunyan when I picked it up and held it in my hand.



Each morning I walk here with my trusty and rather hairy Jack Russell Terrier, Cairo. He traces the paths of the neighborhood dogs who walked earlier, chews on the dessicated legs of dried spider crabs, and chases the geese resting in the shade of the mimosa tree. I gather my thoughts, prepare my to do list for the day and get my morning exercise. We both take great joy in watching the ferry cross the bay, back and forth, back and forth, from Greenport Harbor to Shelter Island. We wave to neighbors and their children in the park, pick up the odd bit of trash blown in by a storm, and breathe the briny air. The sea is my muse, the shoreline my inspiration. This is the best place on earth.


This is the village of Greenport, one square mile at the end of the North Fork of Long Island, New York. Once a home to whalers and rum runners, oyster factories and shingled resorts, it is now a haven for Manhattanites seeking relief from the sweltering summer air of New York City.



Oysters, clams, and scallops still abound here, and nearly everyone knows how to fish. (Several commercial fishing boats make their home here in our deep harbor and one of my neighbors is an oyster farmer.) This morning the fishermen were out in force to catch flounder. In a week or two the squid will move in and take their place, then the bluefish and the striped bass. Osprey return with the fish each spring and nest on tall posts around the harbor. Cairo and I watch them swoop and dive, catching fish for their young. (Look closely at the tall pole in the picture of Widow's Hole below -- 2 osprey have made a nest there. Just beyond the shore are the buoys that mark the oyster farm, and beyond them the boats of fishermen hoping for a good morning's catch. )



So this is where one member of the Primitive Gathering lives and gathers inspiration for her artwork. Next time I'll share photos of my very messy studio where I hook my rugs. If you're ever in Greenport, come and sit a spell -- just call first so I can vacuum & dust!

Enjoy this first weekend of summer!

Sarah
from Hallowed Hill Primitives