Wednesday, 30 September 2009

Cool Video

Maybe one or two of you remembers when I reviewed a JEM album (damn, that must have been way back in aught-six). In any case, I liked her first album, "Finally Woken," and it appears that sometime between now and then, she released another, and it's got a cool video. You can check it out below. Evidently, it's made entirely of photographs (approximately 25,000 of them). Enjoy!

Technology is smart.

Sometimes, that is. If you can't see the video, you can try to watch it at JEM's website or youtube.

Tuesday, 29 September 2009

Getting Trashed: �Ay, Que Pereza!

New on the scene: A Berl�n "Trash Cage"

STARDATE: Tuesday, September 22, 2009 (Last Tuesday): It appears that Berl�n just got garbage service! For the developed world, this isn�t that much of a coup, and I don�t want to seem like some imperialist diva bitch trying to impose my native values on my new country. It�s just that all the communities surrounding us have had garbage service for years and years, but the trucks never came up the extra three or four miles. Instead, the people of Berl�n were condemned to burn our trash in smoky piles, like post-apocalyptic refugee extras from a Mad Max movie.

We were suspecting that the service may come at some point; in the last week or so two metal containers (not really garbage cans, but rather a sort of �trash jail�) have appeared on the road to San Ram�n. And in fact the speculation seems to be true. My sister-in-law Teresa, whose brother-in-law works for the San Ram�n municipality, called Angela this morning to tell us the news: the garbage truck will drive by at 5:00 am on Tuesdays. Cool, right?

Not so fast there, Skippy, let�s take a closer look at this. Based on an informal poll conducted by Angela (she called her mom, sisters, and sisters-in-law), this service isn�t wanted in Berl�n. Excuse me? Yep, it turns out that with the exception of Angela and Teresa (who apparently managed to miss the trash man this morning, since she was combing her hair to look nice while giving him the garbage), people aren�t interested in garbage collection.

When Angela called her family members, they all said some variation of, �Que pereza,� which has recently become my catch-all for all that is frustrating and mind-boggling in this two-coast land. Basically, it means �what laziness,� but it really translates to, �Sorry, but I�m too lazy to even contemplate, let alone accomplish, what we�re talking about right now.� It�s somewhere along the same sentiment fault line as the British �can�t be bothered� in terms of the bafflement and aggravation it causes me when I hear it. This lousy pereza may turn out to be the bane of my Costa Rican existence (although to be fair and balanced, I have to admit that the positive upshot of this whole phenomenon is that I can happily work my 20-hour part-time job, and everyone seems to consider that to be a quite full and satisfactory workload).

What was I bitching about? Ah yes, the garbage. So, que pereza, right? I guess I could understand that sentiment if you had to pay extra money for this service, or if you had a 5-km-long driveway; but in fact the service is one of the services �and possibly the only one-- that is apparently included with our miniscule property taxes. And as for the 5-km driveway, forget it. People in Berl�n just apparently don�t want to walk a bag of trash 50 steps out to the road, and would instead prefer to burn it in a hole in the middle of a coffee field. And I could understand that sentiment if it were based on good, old-fashioned pyromania (after all, it is fun to burn trash, even though you smell like shit and burnt plastic afterwards), but the fact that it�s based on laziness and resistance to change, especially positive change, has caused me to end this post before my eyeballs explode.

UPDATE!: STARDATE: Today: Well, we're officially in week two of Trashgate, and it seems to have gone better this week. Apparently the priest made an announcement about the garbage at mass on Sunday (hmm... that clause can be read in a few ways... the priest evidently explained that the truck would be picking up the garbage on Tuesday mornings). As a result of the announcement, metal trash jails and sawed-off tin trums appeared all around the village, and people seem to be buying into the trash collection idea... slowly but surely.
Twenty years after the original Berlin Wall came down, Berl�n's Wall of Trash is also beginning to tumble.
So, now to the question on everyone's mind: Who shall be our Hasselhoff?

Artists Along The Way

Top to bottom: Block Island, Mystic, Block Island (again), Rye, September 2009

Saturday, 26 September 2009

Kirby Pond Tide Mill

Along Kirby Lane in Rye are several parking spaces directly across from the Tide Mill Boat Basin. The spot provides an attractive view of a former tide mill and pond. Built in 1770, the mill's grinding wheels (bottom photo) now mark the entrance to the marina. The Rye Nature Center has provided an interpretive sign that provides a brief history of the mill, along with a guide to the birds found on the pond.
Although there is not a park here, and the mill is private property, this location provides a unique view with peaceful surroundings. The building is a popular subject for artists and photographers. When I visited this week, a painter was setting up his easel, while a couple with a large black lab shared something to eat as they took in the view.
Tide Mill Boat Basin : History Of The Mill
Painting Rye: The Mill Pond (scroll down)
Wikipedia: Tide Mills

Wednesday, 23 September 2009

Eliminate Prejudice: Be Color Blind!

(Click play on video to get in the right mood for this post):


We all know that the primary colors�so called due to the fact that you learn about them in primary school�are red, yellow, and blue. According to Timnath Elementary School lore, all other colors are made by mixing certain proportions of those three colors. Fair enough.

So why is green such hot shit, then? Did you ever think about it? When we think of colors, sure, we think of the primaries, but next we think of green, but not orange or purple. Why the bias? Here�s the sad truth, folks: green is just yellow mixed with blue, while orange is yellow and red, and purple is simply a splash of red mixed with a dash of blue.

Together we can stop this. Instead of greenery, ask your landscape designer for some purplery! Don�t be green with envy; instead, be orange with anger! Why ask your electric company to use green energy when they could be using mauve energy! And finally, stop eating collared greens and start eating collared ochres!

We�re coming for you, green.

Tuesday, 22 September 2009

Beautiful Bon Repos

On a warm and sunny afternoon (one of the few this summer!), 20 of us met beside the banks of the Nantes Brest Canal to visit the historic Abbaye de Bon Repos (Good Rest). The Abbaye dates back to 1184, when it was founded by Alain lll De Rohan. It has had many periods of crisis over the centuries but since the 1960's has been partially restored. Marilyn, President of the Association des Compagnons of the Abbaye, gave us detailed insight into the history of the building and the area, and also guided us around, explaining how the building has been restored.
The cloisters were beautiful, but the whole building is well worth a return visit. After a browse at the wide selection of books in the Abbaye gift shop, we went back to the canal to relax with juice and cakes and make the most of the afternoon sunshine.

Horst Wessel

I learn new things everyday. Only recently have I become aware that the USCGC Eagle was originally a German ship. Commissioned by Adolph Hitler in 1936, the 295 foot barque was named in honor of Horst Wessel, a prominent Nazi activist who died in 1930 . At the end of World War II, she was taken as a war reparation by the United States. Two other ships in her class were taken by the Soviet Union and Portugal.

Monday, 21 September 2009

Meet The New Scratch, Same As The Old Scratch

The other day people in my office kept calling my name. The same thing happened at my in-laws� house, when my sister-in-law said my name a few times. When I looked up, she wasn�t looking at me, but she was frowning and pointing at a dinner plate. Has the world gone nuts?

Yes, it has gone nuts, but as it turns out it�s not my fault. It just so happens that I�ve got a weird name for Spanish speakers. As I wrote a while ago, my name has caused some trouble here (and God forbid we get my last name involved). Even after I introduce myself, most people here still call me Brian, and even the best spellers usually land somewhere between �Brayan� and �Raian� when writing my receipts, which for some reason almost always have to carry a name. In an attempt to avoid confusion, I�ve taken to calling myself �Angela Jimenez.� That hasn�t worked so well, though, since people don�t always realize that I�m giving them my wife�s name to make things easier, and instead they often think I�m saying ��ngel Jimenez,� which would be a guy�s name. I guess I don�t look like an �ngel nor an angel, so that tends to confuse things just as much. But we�re getting off track; why was my sister-in-law invoking my name to scold the dinner plate?

I'm not sure how it�s possible that this didn�t occur to me in the three years I�ve lived here, but �rayan� actually means �they scratch.� My sister-in-law was pointing at the glass plate and explaining why she didn�t use certain types of scrubbing pads, and in turn the staff at my work were saying that some people were scratching out something in writing. Hence, �rayan�� �they scratch.�

Now that I think about it, I had a similar problem while living in Germany. The �ai� plus the short �i� diphthong sounds in my name seemed to cause the Germans just as much trouble as the Costa Ricans, but instead of making my name longer, the Germans would usually shorten it. The R usually converted into a guttural scratch (in the north) or a slightly trilled R (in the south), and somewhere in the process my name got downgraded to one syllable. As we all know, the Rhine flows through Germany, and so does the Ryan (at least when I�m floating down a river on my raft made of sausages).

To add confusion to that, �rein� is also a word in German, and it sounds the same as �Rhine�; rein can mean �pure� or �clean,� but it can also be used to mean �in� or �inward,� as in Komm �rein! (�come in!�). One of the host families I lived with in 1998 always loved to say �Komm �rein, Ryan!� And I can�t really blame them as long as I keep saying �No way, Jos�.�

Obviously, this is meant to be humorous --oh shit, you�re not laughing?-- but it can have some serious implications when it comes to child naming. Angela and I half-joke that we�ve not had any kids yet since we�re not sure of 1) how many last names it would have or 2) what name wouldn�t be difficult to pronounce or sound ridiculous in one of our native languages. This concern came about after meeting a nearby auto mechanic named �Limber.�

If and when we do have kids, we�ve got to get something that can be easily pronounced, or else just pronounced with a different accent without making our kid sound like a tool. Some names we like so far are simple ones like Julia, Isabel, or Benjamin (although the shortened �Ben� sounds like ven, which is a command meaning �come here�). In any case, we�ll have to make sure our team of Naming Scientists are staying abreast of the situation. And like I said, kids aren�t in the works for the imminent future anyhow. But until then, we�ll keep our minds limber (and keep Limber on our minds).

September 21, 1938

Today marks the 71st anniversary of the Great Hurricane of 1938. Flooding and 100 mph-plus winds extended from New York to Cape Cod, with the storm's worst destruction striking Rhode Island, and the eastern portions of Connecticut and Long Island. Occurring years before hurricanes were given names by the National Weather Service, the storm is sometimes called the Long Island Express or the Great New England Hurricane.

New London suffered extensively as a large portion of the flooded downtown caught fire and burned. The lighthouse tender USS Tulip (top photo) broke free and came to rest along the twisted tracks of the New Haven Railroad. In Watch Hill, all the homes along Napatree Point were washed away by the storm. Landmark buildings in Greenport were leveled. Depending on sources, between 700 and 800 lives were lost.

Throughout Long Island Sound, there are still visible reminders of the 1938 Hurricane. Stone foundations of waterfront buildings that perished, can be seen partially exposed in the sand. There are islands, peninsulas, and inlets that were altered (and even created) by the force and surge of the storm. It remains the most destructive storm (in lives lost & damage) ever in New England and Long Island history.

Rogers Library Southhampton: photo gallery
SUNY Suffolk: Long Island Express
PBS: The Hurricane Of '38 Railroad Extra: 1938 Hurricane (photos & map)
SOUNDBOUNDER: Napatree Point
New London Day: New England's Katrina
photo credit (top): Railroad Extra
sources: Sudden Sea by R.A. Scotti; The Great Hurricane by Cherie Burns

Saturday, 19 September 2009

R.I.P., Patrick Swayze

How come nobody told me Patrick Swayze died? What are friends and family for, if not to notify you of events like this?

I'm not sure why, but I liked Patrick Swayze's style. I'm not sure if I've seen any of his movies (except Ghost, which I hated). Even looking at his profile on IMDB, all I could think was, "WTF?" I think the only things there I may have seen are Donnie Darko and Point Break. But still, there was something about him that made him seem like a nice guy, and that counts for a lot.

In any case, it's too bad that he'd gone, but now I realize that at least he's got Kitty to keep him company. And, we can always remember his with the following strange clip from Mystery Science Theater 3000, circa a decade or two ago (what a flashback, eh?).

Enjoy (if that's the right word):

So, Rest In Peace, Patrick Swayze.

Matilde Corrado

Matilde Corrado, westbound, north of Plum Gut, August 2009


Friday, 18 September 2009


On the way down the mountain just now, I accidently roadkilled a big lizard. I thought it was a leaf, so I tried to drive directly over it (there are both big leaves and big lizards on the road down to Palmares, and if they don't move, they look remarkably similar). Suddenly, it moved and ran right under my car tires. Yech, gross. Sorry there, lizard.

The weirdest thing about it all: Literally two seconds before hitting the lizard, I changed songs on the ipod. I didn't want to hear Danzig's "Bringer of Death," so I skipped it, only to ironically land on Def Leppard's "Bringin' on the Heartbreak." So, I'm sorry for the heartbreak I brought to his little lizard family.

Bon Repos visit

We have a guided visit to Bon Repos abbey (near Gouarec) on Tuesday 22nd at 2.30, meeting by the entrance to the avenue leading to the abbey. A stroll or drink or ice-cream by the canal will follow, depending on the weather! All are welcome.

Thursday, 17 September 2009

Costa Rican Cookin': Chorreadas de Elote

Hello everyone! I've got a tasty bit of Costa Rican cuisine for you today. If you remember, I recently wrote about recipes involving flor de itabo and guineos; however, if you don't happen to have a itabo plant or a mini banana tree in your yard --and many of you don't-- then the recipes are more like armchair cooking than anything that can be pratical in your kitchen. For today's recipe, though, most people back in the states can play along... all you need are some fresh ears of corn, a pinch of salt, a hot pan, and a dream (dream optional).

Chorreadas de elote means, more or less, "poured corn" (elote is the local word for fresh, sweet corn as opposed to ma�z, which I believe is usually dried corn). To start off with, you just need a couple of ears of fresh corn:

Here is my mother-in-law Cecilia with the corn.

Cecilia looks on as Angela cuts the corn from the cob. Gotta make sure she's not slacking. By the way, Angela's St. Regis basketball sweater reflects her passion for and commitment to both St. Regis and the sport of basketball. I once asked her why in the world she had that sweater, and she told me she got it at a second-hand store, and that she didn't like basketball at all. I thought that was interesting, since I also have a basketball T-shirt (Boulder Valley YMCA) that I got at a second-hand store, and I hate basketball. Just another reason our love was meant to be!

Pretty easy: just scrape the corn off the cob. Don't worry about the little corn hairs; they supposedly make the finished product taste better.

Next you've got to grind it. This is the hard part if you live in the U.S. and you're not into things where you need grinders and old kitchen supplies, like casing homemade sausages or making your own shotgun ammo. However, you can always use a blender or food processor, but you may have to drain a bit of the liquid a few steps from now.

Work it! As you see to the left, there's a little trickle of "corn milk" coming from where the base of the handle meets the grinder. That's being collected below the wood block, and will be added in a step or two.

I even got in on the fun.

Here's where you add the "corn milk": that's what was being collected separately below the grinder. If you do the grinding in a blender or food processor, you may actually have to drain some of the milk off, as opposed to adding it in. It just depends on how the grinder works.

Then, you gotta mix it to the consistency of a tapioca or a thick pancake batter. At this point, the rest of the process is basically like making pancakes:

Spoon some of the mixture out and spread it around. Let it cook in either an oiled or a non-stick pan for about 2 minutes, or until it can leave the bottom of the pan and be flipped.

Here's a flipped chorreada.

Cecilia's a good sport letting me photograph her, so thanks again to her for putting up with my questions and the constant flash bulb!

Dinner --or, more often, coffee-- is served! One person can usually eat about two or three of these things for coffee time, or as a sequel to dinner. The traditional Costa Rican way of serving chorreadas is with a fresh cup of coffee and some natilla, which is like a heavy sour cream. That's surely the most difficult part of this recipe for the people in the U.S. to acquire, but you could use American-style sour cream, or possibly cr�me fraiche or even yogurt. And, I've been known to sneak one of these beauties topped with butter and maple syrup, which makes it like a pancake-y type of cornbread... just don't tell the Costa Ricans!

And finally, how you eat it is just as important: you have to use your hands, since utensils are only for panty-waists!
Oh, and this is the lovely Angela with her newly-painted fingernails. She's really getting into painting nails, and if we ever go to the U.S., she's trying to get a client list ready (we told her that some people pay upwards for 40 bucks to get finger or toenails painted!). Also, I included this picture because she is clearly wearing her wedding ring on her right hand, like I do, so I wanted to prove I'm not the only weirdo!

Anyhow, thanks for tuning in, and if you happen to try making the recipe, please chime in with any comments, tips, or any other comments!

Buen provecho!

Following The Path Of Piligrimage

I wrote many times about the castels in this my blog.
About the castels of our zone (Castles of Campania, Castles (2)),
about the different types of castles ( The Types Of Castels)
and I began to "visit" castels on the path of the piligrimage in the Holy Earth, from the North of the Europe to Jerusalem.

I did not know about it till some months ago when one of the girls of our Archeological Group, student of the history of art told me it. If you notice on a map all the most important gothic cathedrals and monasteries, she said, you will discover the Path of the Piligrimage used by medieval believers to reach Jerusalem.

Every later cathedral was built higher and bigger than the previous. To attract piligrims. You see, the world is not changed from that times. Every more or less interesting place lives and lived only to attract visitors. :0)))
The abbeys were very important healing centers too.

Now I want to post here the list of the gotic cathedrals. This list I wanted to study in the next week and want to make the map to see if the girl told me the truth.

Cathedral de Burgos, Amiens, Chartres, Notre-Dame, Siena, Salisbury, Canterbury, Milan, Salamanca, Barcelona, Sevilla, Toledo, Gerona, Estrasburgo, Colonia, Leon, Mallorca, Reims, Vienna, Segovia, Florencia, Lincoln, Oviedo.

R "2"

R "2", Little Narragansett Bay, July 2009

Wednesday, 16 September 2009

Morlaix at Twilight

Inspite of some heavy showers, 11 of us met at Morlaix for a twilight walk around the town centre. We were led by Sylvie - a fountain of information - who began by taking us up on to the 'first floor' of the viaduct. Once we had resumed normal breathing again ( there were loads of steps!!) she told us about the history of the town and we looked out over the spectacular views. The viaduct itself, built in granite, was started in 1861 . The foundations alone are 5 metres deep and it is 58 metres high. It has 9 arches and a length of 292 metres. After leaving the viaduct, we then walked downhill ( much to our relief! ) and Sylvie then took us around the town centre, pointing out buildings of interest. As we descended, we saw the lights of the train cross the top of the viaduct in the darkness. Inspite of the rain, a good time was had by all, and we finished a lovely evening with a coffee in a nearby cafe.

Tuesday, 15 September 2009

Morlaix walk this evening!

We have a walk at 8pm in Morlaix this evening, meeting by the tourist office between the bandstand and the viaduct. Some of us will be eating beforehand at a creperie nearby - meet at 6.15 by bandstand for that.

Peck Ledge Lighthouse

Peck Ledge Lighthouse (AKA Pecks Ledge), August 2009
First Lit: 1906
Automated: 1933

Monday, 14 September 2009

R.I.P., Kitty

Last Friday our little cat�the tiny black and white one we called �Kitty��died suddenly. The circumstances of her death were sad and strange.

As you may remember, we had taken her to the vet to get spayed about a month ago, only to find that she was already pregnant. She was also quite sick, and with the medicine and other vaccinations, her litter of kittens didn�t survive. She was mopey and seemed depressed for a bit, but a month after she lost the kittens, we once again took her to the vet to get her spayed once and for all.

Apparently, during the surgery, she had a sort of heart attack or seizure, or else her body just stopped working. The vet was alarmed, so she performed an autopsy, only to find that Kitty barely had had any lungs (apparently they were about the size of a dime), and that she also had no diaphragm. The vet said she�d never seen anything like it in her years of practice and surgery, and that the fact that Kitty had even been alive in the first place was a sort of little miracle. In fact, the vet said Kitty didn�t even have the necessary organs to be alive. So, it also explained why the cat always had such trouble breathing, and why she remained stationary most of the time. In any case, the vet was very considerate and compassionate, and explained the surgery and autopsy photos to Angela, who had gone to pick up Kitty and was somewhat in shock.

So, we were a bit down this past weekend. It�s surprising that despite the fact we had had Kitty for a very short time, we had grown to care for her very much. She was an incredibly sweet little thing, and she only seemed interested in giving and receiving a bit of love here and there. If you sat on the steps, she�d come and collapse into your lap, and just stay there till you made her get off. She also had a penchant for trying to fight with our other cat Cucho (see picture above), which, given her medical condition, age, size, and gender, seemed quite strange, but we didn�t mind since Cucho�s haughtiness probably could have done with an occasional ass-kicking by a sick, little girl cat.

Kitty�s life was quite intense, now that I think of it. She seemed to have been sent to us in order to �live fast, love hard, die young, and leave a beautiful memory,� in the words of the Faron Young song. Angela and I are certainly sad that she�s gone, but we also now consider her stay here to have been a sort of test. Maybe we�re given chances in life to see how we treat the most feeble, weak, and desperate creatures, to understand what our moral fiber is made of. Perhaps Kitty knew she was not meant to be on this world for more than a few months, and maybe she was sent to us or came to us instinctively, hoping to find someone nice to take care of her in a sea of hostility, in a mean world. We also hope that we passed that test.

So, Kitty, hopefully you�re in cat heaven with my old cat Pussypie, playing together with a catnip mouse, or maybe just casually kicking his ass a little bit.

Either way, we�ll miss you.

Sunday, 13 September 2009


Why couldn't it have been like this over the school holidays? The weather waits til everyone is stuck back inside a classroom and then turns sunny. It was just right today at Landacre, although we could have done without the chilly breeze.

I have reported on Landacre in a previous blog, when we picked a windy day for a BBQ but this little picnic spot on Exmoor is about five miles outside the village of North Molton. There is nothing here but a picturesque stone bridge over the river, but it certainly draws in the crowds. I met two seperate families I knew and then just after we'd finished eating my Dad turned up with one of his mates on their bikes.

After we'd eaten my husband went off with my oldest daughter to teach her how to use the posh camera he has. The rest of us just enjoyed the sunshine, plugged earphones in or read a book. We paddled in the water, but it was very icy. Other people were braver than us and had waded in with fishing nets or were boating up and down. Eventually though it was time to come home and face the sad inevitability that winter will soon be on its way.

Mohegan Bluffs

Although Block Island is not part of Long Island Sound, it would be incomplete to have a site devoted to the Sound that did not include it. There are ferries that arrive here from both Long Island and Connecticut, and the island is often visible from the eastern portions of the Sound. It would be like discussing Cape Cod without mentioning Nantucket and Martha's Vineyard.
Block Island is easily accessible to many boats and tourists who flock here in the summer months.
Sometimes it seems almost too accessible. Four years ago, I arrived here one day in July only to learn that no moorings or docks were available. The designated anchorage area was packed with boats as well; several boats (including my own) dragged anchor because there was not enough space to let out the proper amount of scope. The town was crowded too. It was not a relaxing visit.
Last year we visited in September and were truly able to enjoy all the beauty that Block Island has to offer. A good part of one day was spent visiting Mohegan Bluffs on the southeastern coast of the island. These are clay cliffs reminiscent of the Pacific Coast and Gay Head on Martha's Vineyard. In 1590, a war party of 40 Mohegan Indians was driven over these bluffs by Block Island Indians- The Manisseans.
A wooden stairway descends the bluffs and leads to a boulder-strewn beach with heavy surf. I walked along the empty beach watching the waves crash upon the large boulders. Every so often I would catch a glimpse of the Montauk Lighthouse, approximately 18 miles to the southwest. The Southeast Lighthouse, located at the top of these cliffs is no longer visible from the beach. Erosion of the bluffs had threatened the structure, and it was moved back from the edge of the cliffs in the early 1990's. I can still remember walking here years ago and having a Planet Of The Apes moment as I looked up from the beach at the iron above.
When the summer crowds are gone, you can almost feel as if you are the only living soul here. As Thoreau wrote about Cape Cod to the east: A man may stand there and put all America behind him.
The Nature Conservancy: Block Island

Saturday, 12 September 2009


For many cruising sailors and tourists, New London usually gets passed over as a destination. There are much more attractive harbors and towns in the region, and New London with it's train station and ferry terminals, is often just a transfer station used to get to somewhere else. For water rats like me however, this waterfront has a lot to offer. The ferries, tall ships, submarines, and fishing boats make this an appealing harbor. New London Harbor is industrial, but it is a true working seaport.
A sure sign of September in New London is the return of the Eagle. Often at sea for extended periods of time, the 295 foot bargue returns to a prodigal son's welcome this time of year. Since departing New London in April, she has sailed to such locales as Spain, Monaco, France, Charleston, and Halifax.
SOUNDBOUNDER: Horst Wessel (additional photos)

Thursday, 10 September 2009

Looking West

During late summer and autumn when the air is clear, the skyline of Manhattan looms large on Long Island Sound's western horizon. The silhouette, depending on the visibility, can be seen as far away as Westport, CT, perhaps even further. For the past eight years, it has been difficult to take in this view without thinking about September 11, 2001. The skyline of Manhattan still looks strange to me with the two counterweights missing from it's southern end.


Sherwood Island State Park in Westport is the site of the Connecticut 9/11 Living Memorial. The site was chosen because on clear days, Manhattan is visible. It is a location where people gathered on September 11 to see smoke rising from the skyline. The park then served as a service area for relief efforts following the attacks.

Sherwood Island September 11 Memorial
Sherwood Island 365
New York Times: September 11, Yet Nothing Stops The Tides
Westport Now: Providing Comfort
Long Island Daily Photo: Remembering