Powder Point

by Sam

Home, again. Summer. Returning to the familiar. 

When I was a child, we went to this beach, Duxbury. We parked on the other side of the beach though, the place for the non-residents. I didn’t know this bridge existed until I was a teenager and had more local friends by then. We’d park and walk over or drive over with firepits and marshmallows. We’d go play with our cameras and practice our photography. 

That’s what I did this time too. 

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