Exploring & Escapades

bits & pieces of my travels

Tag: Marshfield



Marshfield. First, to the wildlife sanctuary, exploring the open fields. My brother has a camera now too, and he was eager to practice. I was eager to feel the sun.

After, to the main road for a meal, to the beach for the sunset, to the jetty for photos, to the icecream stand just in time before it closed.

I’ve been to this place so many times, and it’s always home. 

Brant Rock

img_7698 img_7707 img_7709 img_7714 img_7716 img_7718
img_7725 img_7730 img_7741 img_7749 img_7764 img_7783 img_7793 img_7794

My last day at home until Christmas. The last day in shorts, last day with feet in the ocean. The very last of summer on a cool and misty day. We ate seafood at the Venus II across the street. We climbed out to the end of the jetty. My brother chased the seagulls, and I shivered in the water, willing to do anything to touch it one last time. 


img_7079img_7113 img_7073img_7064img_7109img_7105img_7080 img_7093img_7118img_7123img_7136img_7142img_7151

My last day at home of the summer. Hot. Extremely hot. Mussels and clam ‘chowdah.’ The last catch of the day, trucks pulling boats from the water. Waves crashing on the rocks at high-tide, a seawall sunset. 

My American poem.

Brant Rock

IMG_6257 IMG_6272 IMG_6273 IMG_6282 IMG_6307 IMG_6322IMG_6312

Sunset via Brant Rock.

There are some places in the world that are physically, aesthetic. This place, for me, is even more. Emotionally, soulfully beautiful. A part of my core. This is the beach that has been mine ever since before I could walk. It’s where we’d collect rocks and shells as kids. Sneak away to in high school. The place I came to sit by myself when I needed it. A place I always find myself when I’m home.

Watching the sunset here with my little brother, throwing rocks into the ocean. It’s so special to me. Everything here is. I hope he feels that way too, someday.


Green Harbor

IMG_5907 IMG_6241 IMG_6243IMG_6218IMG_6234 IMG_6251

Green Harbor Marina & Brant Rock Beach.

I’ve been coming here since I was literally weeks old. 

Sitting on the boat, dinner at the Venus, icecream down the street. It never, ever, gets old. 

July Third

IMG_5884 IMG_5899 IMG_5904 IMG_5952 IMG_5968 IMG_5992 IMG_6005 IMG_6083 IMG_6097 IMG_6167 IMG_6176

My absolute favorite day of the year: the Third of July in Marshfield. Sitting on the beach all day, lighting fireworks on the beach all night. Tradition, family, friends.

I’ll let the photos speak for themselves.

This is my America. This is why I go back.

%d bloggers like this: