camp: better late than never
Having grown up in New York City (well, Queens) with neither a beach nor country house in the family, and no camp experience whatsoever, I'm now living out my childhood exploratory fantasies in sporadic getaway parcels. I have ice cream with impunity and grill corn and drink wine every night. Its camp without the mean girls (usually).
I'm not a swimmer or a surfer — and Shelter Island's shoreline is pretty meager anyway—so any empty stretch of sand and water is fine for a dipper like me. The island itself is lush and green with gentle hills, horses, deer and lots of cottontail rabbits: rather like a Hudson Valley village, with beaches. Oh and there are antique stores, too. (see purchase, above)
I took some nighttime walks and tried photographing the stars. I guess it says something about me that my favorite photos of this summer beach excursion are these below: taken at about 10pm, a few days past a full moon. My fake Steichens and fake Hidos.