Tag Archives: ocean

Simply Images…

Just a batch of photos from our last trip to Narragansett, RI. All these pics were taken earlier this month, a far cry from what is happening on Narragansett Beach in late October. In case you haven’t heard, there’s a storm pummeling the east coast right about now. Batten down the hatches!

sea, ocean, narragansett, ri

Healing Vista

Guarded Dunes

Guarded Dunes


Shining Seas...

Ocean Brilliance

cormorants, ocean, narragansett, ri,

Taking A Break…

The Channel, Narragansett, RI

We wonder if the beach will still be there for such soothing sojourns after Sandy  finally departs. I hope that you enjoyed the images, and that they bring back your own fond memories of the sea.

Copyright, Paul Grignon, 2012, All Rights Reserved.

A Last Glimpse of Summer…

Julie and I are so enamored by the ocean that we couldn’t resist going down to Narragansett again, to indulge our spirits in the sea.

It was the first day of fall, yet the vestiges of summer lingered still, a last tenuous grasp before a graceful bow to autumn.

We arrived late, at least, late for us. Usually, we are there in the early morn’, to run along the wavelets before the onslaught of humanity fractures the ethereal symmetry of sand, sea, and sky.

A few hardy souls still ventured into the surf, but we elected to set up shop near the pitifully fragile picket fence, a feeble defense for the wind-scoured dunes.

Here, a semblance of calm was attained, free from the full frontal foamy throttle of a frothy and turbulent sea.

It was perfect.

Even though we were sixty yards from the roiling ocean, our view remained unobstructed.

Julie slept while I read. The blanket was spread, our bags were about, we were barefoot and cozy, and what better way to usher in the first day of fall than to plunge your toes into the warm, inviting sands of a beach?

It was lovely.

In late afternoon the sun valiantly clung to the horizon but proved feeble and soon yielded to an autumnal chill. Wrapped in sweatshirts and blankets, we sat in silence and marveled at the vista before us; quiet, serene, and soothing.

Narragansett, even in the initial throes of fall, still offered two souls comfort and calm.

Copyright, Paul Grignon, 2012, All Rights Reserved.

Narragansett Beach Revisited…

This past Labor Day weekend we found ourselves once again ensconced in the healing environs of Narragansett, where an abundance of sand, sea, and sky were to be had. It was a last summer respite, a day and a half spent at the beach, soaking up the simple beauty that exists within this enchanting littoral land.

The boys were at their Dad’s, and our dear friend Beth allowed us to stay at her lovely pink cottage in Saunderstown, a mere five miles from the beach. In order to access Narragansett Beach, one needs to arrive before 8:30am, as they start to charge people just to walk onto the sand! Preposterous, I know, but we managed to arrive prior to the dispensing of funds, and we then enjoyed the next seven hours immersing our souls in the splendor of the sea.

The above picture, however, is not of the beach. It is of Beavertail, located in Jamestown, and it is a fabulous place, replete with a rugged coastline, a constant and welcome breeze, and magnificent views. This photo was taken from our perch upon the rocks and nothing blocked our view save the incoming boisterous sea.

We stayed there for five hours, and then made our way to the house. We unpacked, and then wended our way to the beach. After 5:30pm, they stop charging walk-ons, so we were safe. It was great to run the length and pause at the end, where the confluence of tides meet and where deceiving currents tug and turn, a maelstrom that can pull an unsuspecting beachcomber into its rapid and rapacious swirl.

It would be difficult to top this picture of the beach. The sun’s rays pierce billowed clouds, and distant sparkles are visible in the churning sea.

Such unimaginable beauty awaits those whose souls are so attuned to the allure and essence of the sea, a constant flow of cascading waves, a timeless traverse upon ancient sand. What more could anyone possibly need? Julie and I reveled in this ethereal realm, a healing and comforting stretch of land that speaks to those who welcome such spectacles of grandeur.

This picture to the left was taken on our last day at the beach. Long, languid hours were spent reading, or napping, or simply gazing at the deafening surf as it rolled in along its endless grip upon the shore. It is a siren, rhythmically calling to your soul, yearning for your return to its pulsating and primordial depths.

Hypnotically, we all succumb to such roiling seas. It beckons, and we submit. We sit, transfixed, mesmerized by timeless beauty. But all too soon we pack our bags, and drag our belongings along the shore, to reluctantly leave this haven of heavenly delight.

We leave, content and complete, awash with the sea, sun, and sky upon our skin, and the ride home is met with silence, as each soul seeks to recall individual moments of sheer bliss experienced upon the shore.

Narragansett Beach is indeed a magical and wondrous place, a stretch of sand that will transport you to a world of comfort. Do walk its length. Revel in its welcoming presence. Become one with its eternal and infinite charm.

You will be transported. Your soul will be healed. The beach will, as you travel barefoot upon its cooling sands, be an instant balm.

Make the journey. It awaits you. What are you waiting for?

Copyright, Paul Grignon, 2012, All Rights Reserved.

Kite Festival, Brenton Point, Newport…

Towards the end of a hectic week, Julie and I look forward to just getting away from our fishbowl existence in Sturbridge, and eagerly anticipate yet another drive to the healing environs of Brenton Point. We rarely look at the various events that transpire in RI, and so this turned out to be a most pleasant surprise. (Two weeks ago we escaped to Beavertail, not knowing that the America’s Cup races were in full swing. And that, too, proved to be a lovely weekend excursion.)

We packed, got out of the house early (I know, so much for quality shut-eye on the weekend…) and arrived at Brenton Point at a decent hour, when parking spots were still plentiful. Eschewing the already crowded expansive lawn area, where people were flying the kites and camping under tents, we found the perfect spot, along the bend in the road of Ocean Drive, and where a nice onshore breeze was a constant comfort. Here’s a picture of where we set up our own base camp. Not a bad view, eh? And what a magnificent vista. All we had to do was turn our heads to witness the eclectic offerings in the sky.

Once settled , we ventured along the grounds of this once grand estate, and walked through the foliage, past the assorted picnic tables and kids running around, and found what was left of the stables, a haunting, crumbling edifice that must have been quite majestic in its day. It reminded me of the ‘Fall of the House of Usher’. Beyond the stables was what appeared to be a ‘folly‘ and, after ascending the stairs we were treated to a panoramic view of the ocean. It must have appeared quite spectacular in bygone days, when the surrounding trees were mere saplings.

We returned to our choice location, and spent the next six hours soaking up the sun and the delicious atmosphere of sky and sea. The ever-present ocean breeze helped deflect the onslaught of a relentlessly hot blinding star.

Just another perfect jaunt to one of our favorite places. Once again it was a surprise to have this festival in full swing, and perhaps come next weekend, we will actually look at the Newport Summer Schedule.

I wonder what adventures await us…

(My favorite kite. This octopus must have been over 100 feet long!)

Copyright, Paul Grignon, 2012, All Rights Reserved.

Beavertail Addendum…

In my past blog about the wonderful vistas to be had at Beavertail, in Jamestown, RI, I forgot to mention that after we departed there and left for Narragansett and then to Galilee, we did happen to stop by Roger Wheeler Beach, yet another fine place to watch the sun set in all its waning splendor.

How, then, did we end up in Galilee, eschewing the beauty of Roger Wheeler , you might ask? It certainly is a worthy query, so allow me to expound upon our decision.

As you can see by the above photo, when crowds are not teeming upon this pleasant stretch of sand, it is quite magical in its basic offerings; warm sand, perhaps a hint of moon behind diaphanous clouds, and a soft, gentle sea. The picture is, of course, not of the setting sun. Mind you, the brilliance of that star was quite lovely to behold, but unfortunately a photo was not possible.

You see, where we sat, directly in front of us was a picnic table. No one occupied it, and the only object nestled on top was a pair of sunglasses. Julie thought it would be best, from our supreme location, to move the picnic table a few yards to the right, thus enabling me to capture the allure of a sun setting along the shore.

Unfortunately, I did not move quickly enough. For as soon as I made the decision to get up out of my chair, a family swooped in from the parking lot, espied the empty table, and proceeded to unload bags of stuff on its surface.

And here I was thinking, prior to their arrival, that perhaps those errant sunglasses were Oakley’s, and that I could possibly fetch a decent price on eBay for them. But that was not to be.

The sun shed magnificent shafts upon the clouds and sea, but my eyes were fixed on the family that descended on the table. Two girls from the party frolicked in the shallows as the mother and father busily set up chairs and opened a myriad of containers. It was appalling and disgusting to witness the father rip open a Tupperware container and claw at some substance within and, without pause  shove the contents into his jowly maw. I averted my eyes, briefly, to scan the heavens for the golden glow of sunset, but my eyes returned to the offensive brute who continued to cram food into his mouth, chewing and reaching for yet another slab of god knows what high caloric fat-laden substance was within. It was like watching the after effects of a car accident; possibly gruesome, and yet your eyes remain transfixed.

We finally had had enough of this assault on food, and so we packed up and headed to Galilee. Here, we managed to find a more pleasant spot to watch the sun fade, marveling at its empyrean presence as it shed a twilight display of fireworks.

Copyright, Paul Grignon, 2012, All rights Reserved.

East Beach, Charlestown, RI…

A friend of Julie’s mentioned a place not far from Point Judith and Galilee, a place called Charlestown, and the friend said how lovely the beaches are. So with the boys firmly ensconced at their Dad’s, we decided to get up early and head on out. (One of these fine free mornings we will sleep in late. That would be wonderful!)

So after getting up at 5am, we made coffee, watched lame news and, while Julie showered, I packed stuff for our trip. We do have a master list for such excursions, but there always seems to be something missing. Usually we remember it en route. But I do believe this time we had everything. I think.

We drove down the Pike to 146, to 295, t0 95 and then route 4, and then found ourselves traveling along Route 1, awaiting instructions from our GPS navigator, Laura, a disembodied voice that definitely possesses an attitude. Especially when you ignore her commands to turn here or there and, if you do this too many times, she gets petulant and remains silent. Usually when you need her the most.

Finally we found East Beach Road and traveled along its length, passing quaint little beach houses, knowing soon the ocean would appear. We stopped at what we thought was East Beach but it was Blue Shutters Town Beach. The young lad directed us on further down the road, along a bumpy, dirt lane that passed for a road. Terrible road, but I suppose it dissuades drivers with heavy feet.

We paid our $20 entrance fee, which is rare for us, as we usually try to find a parking spot far removed from the beach proper. In retrospect, we should have parked at Blue Shutters, as it was five dollars cheaper, and it was joined to East Beach! Who knew?

We parked–perfectly*–and proceeded to check out the beach. It was already packed, with plenty of exposed skin lying about (sometimes too much skin…) and since the tide was too high, we decided to walk/run along a sandy lane, parallel to the beach. It is reserved for SUV’s, campers, or ATV’s but the kind woman who inhabited a claustrophobic shed informed us that it was ok for us to walk there.

It was extremely slow going and tough on the calves, but we managed a half-mile or so, slogging through the shifting hot sand before opting to run the remainder on the beach. We cut through the dunes, and here few people were about so we walked along the water’s edge.

Our only complaint about this lovely stretch of land is that it is not conducive for walking or running, as the slope at water’s edge is just too steep. The walk was quite beautiful, and we walked its length, all three miles of sand that was edged with sea grass and, beyond,  billowy clouds straight out of a Monet painting. Quite ethereal.

Our journey back to the parking lot proved arduous, as the distant colorful umbrellas never seemed to get any closer, much like a mirage in the desert. We did not bring enough water for our jaunt and slightly parched, we marched on. Even after a mile or so, the umbrellas appeared still as mere pinpoints. (I know; tough to complain when surrounded by such beauty.)

We made it, got our belongings, and found a semi-secluded stretch to set up our chairs. And for the next four hours we soaked in the ambiance of East Beach. All in all, despite our trying trek, it was a fine experience. So much so, we will definitely make a return here at some point.

But next time we’ll park at Blue Shutters.

*I mention that my parking effort was perfect because of a note we found on our windshield when we returned. It read, verbatim: “Dear Tourist: Don’t come to our tiny parking lot and take up TWO spaces with your hideous vehicle! -A Local-” Yeah, a local idiot! I can only fathom that this ‘local’ could not possibly entertain the idea that other people do come and go, and other drivers are not as courteous as us.

Copyright, Paul Grignon, 2012, All Rights Reserved.

Descent into Bliss…

Stairway to Heaven

It may not look like much but this new ladder, placed near the old, rusted remnants of another, offers a soul a descent into the beautiful.

This particular place is none other than Brenton  Point, a place I have mentioned here on numerous occasions.

The ladders are situated along a bend of Ocean Avenue, where, above and beyond the lot lies a verdant sward, where swarms of summer folk deign to drape the skies with dancing kites. But here, after the final rung is rendered free,  your feet touch the smooth rocks below, and another world is yours.

Julie and I recently ventured here to such healing grounds, and as we went for our usual jaunt along the sea, we espied this brand-new ladder attached to the sea wall. We instantly knew that upon our return, we would pack up bags and chairs and wend our way to such a wondrous and worthy site.

The Healing Zone

Once ensconced firmly upon the shifting and sun-baked stones, we were spellbound by the scene.

Nothing but the curvature of the earth, sun-warmed rocks, and a roiling sea, with wispy, wraith-like clouds that drifted slowly by completed the magnificent vista.

How can one want more, especially when such scenes are shared with your Beloved? This then, the picture above, is what greeted our orbs after setting up our chairs, our towels, books, and coolers.


Before plunging into our choice tomes (mine, Paul Theroux’s latest, ‘The Lower River‘, and Julie’s, ‘Running with Scissors‘) we just sat silent, couched mesmerized sentinels to the ethereal and endless sea stretched before us.

We stayed for a few hours, and soaked up the delicious atmosphere, and only on a few occasions were we accosted by obnoxiously loud people, others who dared descend rungs to ruin our reverie. Why do people need to yell and holler at each other, overly loud, when such a beauteous panorama exists? Chatter is superfluous when engulfed by such heavenly scenes. Just hush and…enjoy.

Prior to exiting this superb expanse of sea, we took this picture, capturing our presence upon the rocks with a churning sea distant. Here there are thousands of ‘skimmers’ waiting to be pocketed, stones  a remembrance of a grand time along the shore.

After our ascent from a blissful retreat, we drove to Colt State Park in Bristol. Once parked, we disengaged our bicycles and went on a pleasing journey along the East Bay Bike Path, to Barrington and partook in a heavenly ice cream cone from the Daily Scoop.

From there, we returned and set up shop along the vast fields of grass adjacent to the sea. We watched and marveled at yet another splendid vista. Late afternoon produced an abundance of ‘sparklies’ upon the water, and this photo perfectly captures the moment of such a find.

All in all a wonderful sojourn, and perhaps come the Memorial Day weekend, we will once again find ourselves thus ensconced.

Perhaps this time, though, we shall bring the boys, to have them experience such infinite and enchanting lands.

Copyright, Paul Grignon, 2012, All Rights Reserved.