The moors of Halibut Point presented granite seekers with accessible
quarry stone. When operations reached an industrial scale, detritus was dumped
in a grout pile at the end of a railroad spur extending toward the Ipswich Bay.
Northeasterly storms have swept rubble from the seaward end
of this grout pile into a windrow along the shoreline, glazed by mists on a
frigid morning.
The promontory offers vistas to three states and the
ceaseless fascination of the coastal interface.
The Brookline Bird Club sponsors outings to Halibut Point that
juts out into the Atlantic flyway, with the possibility of seeing pelagic
species blown toward shore in stormy weather.
Harlequin ducks dive for crustaceans with colorful bravado
in the roughest surf.
The cascade of quarry debris ignites the creative spirit in
visiting sculptural engineers.
Racemed milkwort (Polygala
polygama) pioneers a botanic colony among the rocks.
The ineffable processes of soil building support increasingly
diverse vegetation in harsh exposures.
Ships 'hauling about' (tacking past) this windy coastal
projection gave Halibut Point its name. Fair breezes still keep sails aloft.
The overlook gives witness to each day's first and last
light, to the progressions of the moon, and to the starlit constellations at
night.
I love your blog, Martin! So poetic and finding beauty in both the expected and unexpected.
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