When I wandered out to Long Point in West Tisbury, Martha’s Vineyard, I felt something ancient and tender moving through the air. This wild refuge sanctuary, wrapped in soft winds and silver light, opened its arms and let me listen to its quiet breathing. As the sun tilted low across the water, I came upon this cluster of kayaks — resting, patient, still as dreams waiting to be launched.
I captured this image to honor the untouched spirit of the land — the way time slows here, the way every breath feels sacred. If you are considering bringing this piece into your home, know it carries the memory of that day: the hush of wind over marsh grass, the gleam of sky mirrored in water, and the enduring promise of open journeys. Long Point holds a purity that asks nothing of us but to notice — and be grateful. I hope this photograph brings you some of that same spacious, healing beauty.
Kayak Dreams
In the hush where land and water meet,
I found the kayaks sleeping — hulls aglow,
their colors catching the last spill of sun,
anchored to earth, yet dreaming of tides,
like stories curled close against the heart.
The water hummed in a silver hush,
low grasses bowed with the memory of flight,
and wind wove patterns into the dusk —
a music stitched to this open place,
where wildness wears its gentlest face.
Bare branches signed their secret songs,
etching the sky in soft calligraphy,
and I, a small and grateful witness,
let the long light gather me whole,
the world humming its endless yes.
No hurry, no fences, no heavy hands —
only the breathing of sea and sky,
only the pulse of life without burden,
only the joy of standing still
inside the unbreakable wide-open.
This is what I brought home in my hands —
the shimmer, the hush, the waiting launch,
the dream of water cradling each bright hull,
the way a wild place holds you,
even long after you leave.