For us - the last sunrise of the year on Sutton Island (barring some crazy notion of J's that brings us out here for a winter adventure). Today we put the Field House to bed for the long winter months. Our electricity was restored just in time for one lighted evening before we turn it off again.
So many have done the same before us, for 110 summers. Beds are stripped, water is drained, windows and doors secured against the inevitable nor'easters that will whistle and screech through every crack.
This year's beach-combing treasures sit on shelves alongside others from years long past. Some get returned to the sea, some find a safe place out of the way before porch furniture fills every free space in the living room.
(notice the difference in the position of the sun since last June?)
Perhaps the occasional workman or hunter will wander past and peek in the windows during a lunch break. We saw both yesterday -- one man re-roofing Bunchberry Bungalow - our farthest eastern neighbor, and two bow hunters arriving as we waited for the ferry boat to carry L, E, and e to shore. If they happen to look through the salt glazed windows of this timeless house, they will see much of the same furniture, books and crockery that a hunter might have seen a hundred years ago. The ewers and water basins were more than decorative back then (and could have come in handy over the last 2 days).
Blaze orange vests on the dogs were only slight reassurance to me this morning, knowing the bow hunters were probably out at dawn as well. I am surrounded by 3 pacing dogs who didn't get nearly enough exercise this morning. We have the rest of today in full light for a last island gallop.