Thank You

Last night I was driving back from the market -- picking up those last few things I need for Thanksgiving -- and, since it was almost sunset, I decided to take a quick drive around the backshore. It was a beautiful evening and I had my camera with me.

The waves along the back shore (left) were high and the light along the horizon turning them rose-colored. I remembered something else that Sam Keen said in Fire in the Belly (which I talked about yesterday). He said there are three important questions everyone must ask themselves: 1.) where do I want to be? 2.) what do I want to do there? 3.) who do I want there with me?

He said it is particularly important to answer those questions in the right order or you will make a lot of turmoil for yourself. Well, it has taken me long enough but when I moved to Gloucester ten years ago I knew this was where I wanted to be. I still think that.

The waves were hitting the rocks and the seaspray splashed up over the bittersweet bushes and onto the road (right). It was beautiful.



By the time I got to Niles Beach (left) the horizon had turned gold and you could see Boston on the far shore against the rose and gold. I have seen Boston this way a thousand times but it still dazzles me.

And I thought that I just have so much to be grateful for -- to give thanks for -- because I have Gloucester, and I know I want to write and design and I am supporting myself doing that. Not extravagantly but enough to live in Gloucester and to buy silk and cashmere to sew and knit with and to be happy -- genuinely happy, deep in my soul happy.

I drove out the state fish pier -- I do that so much that my car does it automatically without my permission. From the end of the fish pier I took a photo of the Paint Factory with the rose-filled sky behind it and the flash of Ten Pound Island Light (right). What will become of the Paint Factory? Ever since I have been here its fate has been up in the air and it is hard to imagine Gloucester Harbor without it sitting there at the entrance.

There was a big ship unloading directly in front of City Hall (left), its lights sparkling in the water. The air was filled with gulls and the little harbor seals were nosing around the sides of the boat.

Written on the walls of the tower of City Hall are the names of the thousands of Gloucester fishermen who have been lost at sea in Gloucester's three hundred and eighty-something year history. There is also a place on that wall where a name is not -- Mark's name was nearly there twice. Both times he was saved just in time. I give great, great thanks that his name is not on those walls.

And so it is Thanksgiving. And I am in Gloucester. I am writing and I am with who I want to be with. This is my 100th post in this blog. Thank you for coming here to read my ramblings. Happy Thanksgiving.

Thanks for reading.