Sunrise on Nantucket.
Looking out from this somewhat uninhabited, unloved property.
Some say they've encountered something of a spirit nature there on occasion.
Some have summoned whatever spirit they feel they might have sensed.
But I've never dallied there long enough to discover.
The mailman doesn't even deliver to this far-eastern end of the island in winter, a wholesome 7 miles away from town. Next stop Porto & the west coast of faraway Europe.
Dallying there at night does not do any wonders for the courage.
But this sun is different, in many many ways - waking me spectacularly every day for one winter a while back. Beaming telescopically through the evenly partitioned windows - when I was the sole inhabitant on that very bluff.
A neighbor to those unsuspecting Portuguese.
Suitably called 'Idlemoor', this was one of the first houses built on the North Bluff way back in the 1800s.
Just after the demise of the local whaling industry, when the population dropped as low as 4000.
Even for this island, this house has an extra deserted feel to it - and even more so in summertime, when the crowds return for their annual extravaganza.