I Heart Distance

Just two guys on the end of the pier, fishing and drinking Sun Drop. You can’t get any more southern than this, y’all!


 

 

This week’s theme on I Heart Faces is “From a Distance.” I wish this could be the theme every week. I would certainly have a lot of photos to choose from, since most of my photos are snapped from a distance, around my town and are often candid, random shots of strangers.

Because, let’s face it, it’s easier to take a photo of a stranger from several feet away.

I snapped this photo last summer on Johnny Mercer’s Fishing Pier in Wrightsville Beach, NC. The end of the pier is my favorites spot on this earth. I did not edit this photo at all – it is SOOTG (straight out of the camera!)

I Heart Faces is a photography sharing forum that focuses on the art of capturing faces and their various emotions. Each week, people from across the world enter their favorite face photos.

Click on the picture for a better view and click the button to check out lots of other faces, or to enter a photo of your own.

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Ahhh….Summer!

Nothing says “Summer” like a day at the beach, y’all.

These photos were taken on Memorial Day at Wrightsville Beach, NC. My husband and I had the rare holiday off and decided to spend the morning in our beach chairs with a couple of  Bloody Marys and our camera. We had fun taking random photos of people of all sizes, shapes and descriptions just relaxing and hanging out at the beach.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This is for a meme called Summer Stock Sunday. It’s been gone for a while and I’ve missed it!

If you’d like to participate, post a picture of anything that says summer to you, and link back to Around the Island so that other folks can find you. Have fun with it, and take time to visit the other blogs to see what summer looks like all over the world.

 

 

Wordless Wednesday – Kole’s Day at the Beach

I took a few snapshots at Wrightsville Beach the other day, while I was waiting for my daughter-in-law and grandson to show up.

I think the seagulls were just sitting around waiting for him, too.

The shells were just lying around, waiting to be discovered.

Then……They’re here!!

Kole, surveying his kingdom…

“I see birds!”

“I can make them fly!”

Rolled up little blue jeans? Be still, my heart!

Seeing the beach through his eyes?

Pure joy, y’all!

There’s a lot of folks posting for Wordless Wednesday!

Check out:

Nanahood

Mom Caboodle

Life Is A Sandcastle

My Organized Chaos

Ramblings of An Empty Mind

If you know of any that I haven’t listed here, leave me a comment and I’ll add them to the list!

I Heart Faces – Best of March

This is a photo I took last month of my grandson, Kole, at the beach. We had an unseasonably warm day and it seemed like the perfect chance to let Kole run off some energy. We’re teaching him early on what it means to be a Wilmington, North Carolina baby. Important things – like how to walk barefoot in the sand.

I love this image of him stuffing a Nab in his mouth. Eating Nabs on Wrightsville Beach, while squishing your toes in the cool March sand? A quintessential, coastal North Carolina experience, y’all!

And if you are wondering what a “Nab” is…. then I reckon you ain’t from around here. Come on down to the beach and we’ll share some with ya!

This week’s photo challenge on I Heart Faces is “Best Face Photo from March, 2011.” It is a People’s choice award this week, so please go over there and vote for me!

 

I Heart Faces is a photography sharing forum that focuses on the art of capturing faces and their various emotions. Each week, people from across the world enter their favorite face photos.

Click on the picture for a better view and click the button to check out lots of other faces, or to enter a photo of your own!

 

Describing Wilmington, North Carolina

Today’s topic on The Daily Post is to describe the town where you grew up.

I was born in, and grew up in Wilmington, North Carolina, where I still live today. I wrote about how much I love my hometown in a post titled Going Home. It was recently featured on Freshly Pressed, much to my delight, y’all.

Wilmington is a diverse city, made up of all kinds of people. It is a college town, a thriving port, a retirement relocation for many folks of the Northern persuasion, a historic southern city with roots going back to the Civil War, a popular travel destination, a beach lover’s paradise and a golfer’s dream.

It is home to the USS NORTH CAROLINA Battleship, the Azalea Festival, the University of North Carolina at Wilmington, the UNCW Seahawks, and the Wilmington Hammerheads. It offers a large  historic district on the riverfront, horse-drawn tours, an authentic riverboat, quaint shops, elegantly restored southern mansions, and  Thalian Hall – one of the oldest working theaters in the nation.

The city has been given the nickname “Wilmywood” since it became a major center of American film and television productions. Films such as A Walk To RememberBlue VelvetTeenage Mutant Ninja TurtlesEmpire RecordsCape FearBlack Knight28 DaysThe Crow (death place of Brandon Lee), Nights in Rodanthe and the controversial  film Hounddog were produced here, in addition to television shows such as MatlockSurface,  Dawson’s Creek and One Tree Hill.

I love my city; the sights, the sounds, the smells and the people. With my camera, I constantly try to capture  images that can showcase the essence of it – the customs, the food, the oak trees, the historic buildings, the battleship, the gardens, the salt air full of screaming sea gulls, and the lonely river that flows through it all.

Because I think a picture is worth a thousand words, I hope you enjoy this slideshow of some of my favorite photos that I have captured.

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Going Home

This is my home, Wilmington, North Carolina. I was born here, but I haven’t always lived here. My family relocated to Florida when I was five years old. But Wilmington was always home.

Most families leave home to go on vacation. My family’s vacation was to go home.

Home is a name, a word, it is a strong one; stronger than magician ever spoke, or spirit ever answered to, in the strongest conjuration.  ~Charles Dickens

Yesterday’s challenge on the Daily Word was What is your favorite word? Why?

“Home” is the best word to my ears. It conjures up comfort, warmth, familiarity, love.

My family moved a lot when I was a kid. I went to thirteen different schools in twelve years. Some years, I went to different schools in the same year. It was hard to feel like you had a “home” when your home kept changing from one rented house to another every few months.

I guess that’s why “home” became so important to me. I needed, desperately, a place that I could feel connected to.

Every year, in the summer, my parents would pack my brother and myself into the back of whatever car we happened to have at the time, from whatever city in Florida we were living in, and they would say, “We’re going on vacation kids! We’re going home.”

It was a good twelve-hour ride in the back-seat of the car, cooped up with my younger brother, and books and toys that were supposed to keep us occupied. There was also no air conditioner in the cars in those days, so it was hot. My dad liked to get a good early start, which meant getting up at three am so we could be on the road by four.

After a long day on the road, enduring the heat and the constant bickering with my brother about who was taking up more room, the best part for me was driving over the Cape Fear River and my first view of home.

My dad would say, “Look, kids! We’re home!”

I would get a lump in my throat. I would crane my neck to look out of the backseat window, so I could get a view of the familiar Wilmington waterfront – the church spires, the boats in the river including the majestic BATTLESHIP NORTH CAROLINA, the quaint historic buildings.

Going home meant visits with friends and relatives; aunts and uncles, cousins, both grandmothers. It meant playing on my grandmother’s front porch, eating from a huge pot of goulash that was prepared by her loving hands, going to sleep on the back porch with my cousins, listening to the crickets, giggling under the covers.

Going home meant spending the day under Johnny Mercer’s Pier at Wrightsville beach, slathering on Coppertone, eating hot dogs with chili and  coleslaw, riding the waves on rented canvas rafts, walking on the beach listening to the seagulls screams mingling with the joyous cries of children playing in the surf, smelling cotton candy and popcorn and salty air.

Going home meant listening to my parents laugh, watching them try to dance the shag and cut up with their friends from high school, getting up early to eat scrambled eggs and taste sweet coffee in my grandmother’s kitchen. It was listening to old stories about how things used to be. It was belonging somewhere.

Now I am 53 years old. I have lived my entire adult life back in, or near, my hometown. There is no one house that I can point to and say – that was my home. I have adopted the whole city as mine. Today, driving over the bridge and seeing my precious city still brings tears to my eyes.

I’m still happy to be home.