camp: better late than never

A few days ago I came back from a week in Shelter Island. I've been going out since the late 90s— a week or weekend, here and there-- and after an unintentional hiatus of 3 years I returned to the place with quiet exhilaration. I had fully intended on updating the blog from out there, but I caught up on my erstwhile once-a-year bike rides instead.

Having grown up in New York City (well, Queens) with neither a beach nor country house in the family, and no camp experience whatsoever, I'm now living out my childhood exploratory fantasies in sporadic getaway parcels. I have ice cream with impunity and grill corn and drink wine every night. Its camp without the mean girls (usually).

I'm not a swimmer or a surfer — and Shelter Island's shoreline is pretty meager anyway—so any empty stretch of sand and water is fine for a dipper like me. The island itself is lush and green with gentle hills, horses, deer and lots of cottontail rabbits: rather like a Hudson Valley village, with beaches. Oh and there are antique stores, too. (see purchase, above)

I took some nighttime walks and tried photographing the stars. I guess it says something about me that my favorite photos of this summer beach excursion are these below: taken at about 10pm, a few days past a full moon. My fake Steichens and fake Hidos.