This past summer has been my first summer doing, essentially, nothing. In past years I’ve always had a job, or coursework, or some other summer activity, to keep me incredibly busy. This year has been 100% self-motivated, which was both a blessing and a curse. Whatever the outcome, Boyfriend and I spent Labor Day weekend with one of my sisters at her Hamptons house, desperately clinging to the last vestiges of summer. I’m still not ready to take off my summer pink nail polish, or to give up my sun-bleached strawberry blonde hair.
Despite the calendar, the views around us insisted it was fall. Yesterday we drove out to Montauk Point to watch the surfers and enjoy a last trip to the beach. Boyfriend, as usual, sat away from the sand (“but I don’t let getting sandy and salty!” he whines) while I got my jeans wet and searched for shells along the waters edge.

Hurricane Irene brought autumn to the East End far too early. Driving along Montauk Highway, trees were brown and dead-looking from the salt water influx. There will be no gentle golden descent into autumn this year.
The beach was littered with seaweed, mussels, and washed up crabs. I was surprised to find a blue crab and a lobster, both victims of the storm surge from last weekend.


Seeing all these washed up creatures made me a little maudlin. Eventually Boyfriend and I continued along our usual route of walking along the boulder terrace that protects the lighthouse from erosion. When the tide is coming in and the surf is good, it’s a great spot to eat lunch and watch the surfers go.


There are almost always a few fishermen trying to get dinner for the night.
Dead pine trees overwhelm the few living ones in the shadow of the lighthouse. It’s amazing Irene didn’t take them out.
So last night was a slow return to reality on the Jitney, and today is a slap in the face reminder that summer is gone- rainy and grey in New York. More old family photos tomorrow if I get all my errands done now that I’m back in the city…