A Moment in Time: Lucy Vincent Beach, Chilmark

A Moment in Time at Lucy Vincent Beach

This morning, as the sun unfurled over the Atlantic, I stood at Lucy Vincent Beach and felt something shift—not in the earth beneath me, but in the rhythm of my breath. The tide hummed its eternal music, and the wind traced invisible scripts across the sand. Before me, those curious sculptures, like ancient watchers or cosmic instruments, cast long, angled shadows that seemed to point toward some secret beyond the edge of morning. 

There’s a kind of geography to memory—how the light bends when you first see something unforgettable, how the air tastes when it carries more than weather. This beach, this moment, held the geometry of both past and future, suspended not in stillness, but in motion. The sun didn’t wait; it moved with deliberate grace, illuminating the quiet theater of tide and cliff. And those tripod creatures, part sculpture, part sentinel, seemed less like art and more like echoes of stories no one ever quite finishes telling.

What stays with me isn’t just the view, though the view is extraordinary. It’s the texture of presence. It’s the way footprints mingled with stone and sand, like all our small comings and goings are part of something vast and unnamed. I left no offering on the shore. I took no souvenir. But walking away, I felt altered—like I had brushed against the infinite and it had nodded back, just once, before returning to its long, slow unfolding.

Tripods at Dawn

They arrive before the light breaks through—
three limbs, heads forged of an unknown,
each facing east as if they knew
that time would rise deliberately,
and carve new myths from memory.

No speech, no eyes, yet somehow wise,
they seem to hum beneath the waves.
With barnacled backs and sky-thought thighs,
they echo what the silence craves—
a place where time forgets to behave.

The cliffs lean in with crumbling grace,
their ancient weight etched deep with lore.
And I, the witness in this place,
stood briefly inside something more,
where land and longing share one shore.

Not every truth demands a name.
Some only need the salt to speak.
Their voices shift with wind and flame,
their meaning tidal, bold, oblique—
a story paused mid-breath, mid-peak.

And as I turned, they did not move.
They did not follow, did not fade.
Yet something in me, loosed, approved—
like I had walked through time remade,
and met the moment it betrayed.

Giclée Stretched Canvas Print:Giclee print on museum quality 410gsm polycotton canvas. Stretched on 1.5 inch pine wood and back wire. Ready to hang
Acrylic Print:1/8 (3mm) thick Digital grade Acrylic with back floating Frame of 1 inch thick. Ready to hang
Brushed Metal Print:3mm Brushed Metal Print with back floating Frame of 1 inch thick. Ready to hang
HD Sublimation Metal Print:High Gloss Sublimation on Chromalux Panel with back floating Frame of 1 inch thick. Ready to hang
Giclée Rolled Canvas Print:Giclee print on museum quality 410gsm polycotton canvas
Giclée Poster Satin Photo Paper Print:Giclee print on Resin coated Satin Photo Paper 240gsm
Giclée Fine Art Matte Paper Print:Giclee print on Fine Art Matte Paper
Framed Print:Mounted with Plexiglass and Frame. Ready to hang.