While spending day-number-two at home with this "uber-cold" of mine, I decided to change my scenery a little at one point, got up off the sofa where I'd been comfortably stretched out with a box of tissues and the remote control, grabbed the laptop from its case and sat in the chair facing
the windows to the street. Before I could open the computer I happened to look out across my front lawn and couldn't help but admire the view with a new appreciation for this great spot where my ancestors settled back in the ninteenth century. I was looking straight across to the Hook Mill through the bare branches of a red maple tree. I sat and watched as a steady parade of traffic moved up and down North Main Street and Methodist Lane.
There's something quite beautiful about those bare winter branches against the gray skies and yesterday morning was very gray. The architectural quality of the winter trees gives a real sense of structure to an otherwise bleak landscape, and scenery such as the mill, usually preserved in photos and paintings in the green of summer, when seen through that filter of branches is a very different statement. It's a "working class Hamptons" scene - a sort of "locals-only" treasure. This is the East Hampton that we who live here know and love. Like any relationship, when its real it lasts throughout the long hard winter months, not just during a brief summer fling.
I love East Hampton in all its phases, from the color of the summer and throughout the seasons that follow. There's something to love here at every time of year and those of us who are fortunate enough to live here know its pleasures no matter what month it is. Yesterday I enjoyed viewing a piece of the landscape that's hidden from me for most of the year. And yet right now, its all mine and I'm taking great pleasure in its beauty.
the windows to the street. Before I could open the computer I happened to look out across my front lawn and couldn't help but admire the view with a new appreciation for this great spot where my ancestors settled back in the ninteenth century. I was looking straight across to the Hook Mill through the bare branches of a red maple tree. I sat and watched as a steady parade of traffic moved up and down North Main Street and Methodist Lane.There's something quite beautiful about those bare winter branches against the gray skies and yesterday morning was very gray. The architectural quality of the winter trees gives a real sense of structure to an otherwise bleak landscape, and scenery such as the mill, usually preserved in photos and paintings in the green of summer, when seen through that filter of branches is a very different statement. It's a "working class Hamptons" scene - a sort of "locals-only" treasure. This is the East Hampton that we who live here know and love. Like any relationship, when its real it lasts throughout the long hard winter months, not just during a brief summer fling.
I love East Hampton in all its phases, from the color of the summer and throughout the seasons that follow. There's something to love here at every time of year and those of us who are fortunate enough to live here know its pleasures no matter what month it is. Yesterday I enjoyed viewing a piece of the landscape that's hidden from me for most of the year. And yet right now, its all mine and I'm taking great pleasure in its beauty.
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