#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

Driftwood, Morning Menemsha

. . . Born of driftwood endowed with breath we are—began that old story Teacher had to close her eyes to tell. She spreads the wood to dry and eats nothing and takes not a drink but smokes her pipe. Eyes dry as opals and the sand and wind drying her from the inside out—petrified, as Teacher would say. Sister says her bones are anyway filling with sand. . .

~ Excerpt from Born of Driftwood, Gretchen Steele Pratt

Waking into the last day of August, also my older brother’s birthday, and I think of him right away. He is on the Island too. Charlie and I walk and walk, taking our alone time over the rocks. I find a marvelous piece of driftwood full of holes that reminds me of the way the clay looked as it dried a couple of days ago on my daughter’s back. I find a seagull feather near a rock. Just little pockets of art, strewn naturally, completely spontaneously, over the beach. The Sound is calm today, there is very little wind, and some pleasant sunliness, a few scattered clouds. I spot a butterfly nosing around the wet seaweed and follow her and wait and wait until she lands and I can snap. Goodbye August, dear August. The girls are up when I return and we drive to Morning Glory Farm to get corn and other goodies. Then, it’s off to my brother’s house with two dozen corn for a birthday surprise. And we are happily surprised ourselves: the whole family is playing volleyball in their yard, and keeping our distance we are able to say hello, one and all. How we’ve missed them! A best moment of the day, this reunion. A best thing about today: 90 percent of the day spent outdoors, under the sky, in sight of the ocean. We go to Aquinnah to a private beach and make the most of the afternoon; one of our last, and the dogs are allowed on this beach. I take Charlie and Suzi on a long wander along the cliffside beach and up to the lighthouse. The water is warmer than the air, it’s cooling toward fall. The surf is so much milder. The sun sets on an outdoor day, fiery red, and the evening ends, talking to dear friends about a baby who is going to be born soon, and will one summer day, and probably many, delight in the sand and surf and wide open sky and grasses and shells and driftwood and butterflies and seaweed rocks of this quiet, natural place. Today is the day my big brother was born. An August 31st day, the end of summer. One very pregnant summer for my mother. Sweet to think of her that way, and my daughter too.