Ocracoke Women Present an Evening of Stories and Songs

This Sunday evening the Women of Ocracoke will be presenting their annual music and storytelling concert. As always it is full of lively stories and songs with these lovely island ladies.

We are hosting just one concert this year on Sunday evening, July 27th at 7:30. The event will be at Deep Water Theatre. We are not selling tickets, however donations are being accepted at the door for the Skipjack Wilma Lee that was damaged in Hurricane Arthur.

My advice? Come early if you want a seat at all!

Until tomorrow.

"And another year blooms..." Marcy Brenner

"Will there really be a Morning?
Is there such a thing as Day?
Could I see if from the mountains
If I were as tall as they?

Has it feet like Water lilies?
Has it feathers like a bird?
Is it brought from famous countries
Of which I have never heard?

Oh some Scholar! Oh some Sailor!
Oh some Wise Men from the skies?
Please to tell a little Pilgrim
Where the place called Morning likes.
                                                              
                                                                  Emily Dickinson

I took these photos on my early morning birthday walk at the beach. It was a beautiful morning.

Isn't it lovely when a few days go by and you forget about your blog?

It is July on the island which means so many of my friends, including me, celebrate our birthdays.

The parties started here on Sunday night as Philip and I hosted the party. The house was bursting with folks. My own celebration continued into Monday evening with dinner at the Back Porch and the Jolly Roger.

David made the best three-layer chocolate cake I have ever had and, along with candles, and family we had a great birthday dinner.

Philip ever remembered the poetry book I so longed for.

So, with the Happy Birthday over for another year, here we go for another spin around the sun.

After a time to reflect, life does go on...

After a time to reflect, life does go on - KPCNews: Kpcnews

This week's column is again a reflection of life on Ocracoke. I hope you enjoy it. Please just click on the above link. As always, thank you for reading.

I took this photo of the Ocracoke United Methodist Church last winter when I was here. As you can see, it was decked out for Christmas.

Until Monday.

Ocracoke United Methodist Church

View from my Mad Mag Studio Window

View from my studio window.

I love mornings. I have coffee on the pizer, neaten up the cottage, and go on outside to my Mad Mag Studio. It is a collection of odds and ends that I have found and pieced together giving it a charming look. My windows overlook a small woodsy area, and on cool mornings like today, I can open up these windows and just let the birds sing. All-too-soon heat will descend upon the studio and I will once again close it up in favor of air-conditioning.

But writers long ago (or not so long ago) left the windows open all the time. I think of E.B. White writing in his small shed down by the water or Donald Hall still writing away in his old house in New England. I would be very surprised to hear he had air-conditioning. Perhaps when the day is too warm for the pen and pencil or keyboard, it is time to switch over to just reading away.

Good writers are good readers, of course.

I love this quote by William Faulkner, perhaps you will also.

Until tomorrow.

“Read, read, read. Read everything -- trash, classics, good and bad, and see how they do it. Just like a carpenter who works as an apprentice and studies the master. Read! You'll absorb it.Then write. If it's good, you'll find out. If it's not, throw it out of the window.” 
William Faulkner

"I have often walked down this street before..."

The view from Philip's front porch.

Last night's rain came down in buckets with a brilliant display of thunder and lightning. It was great to sit out on the pizer watching the storm. I could actually see the storm swirling and circling around the island.

This morning the storm continued. Flashes of light, hoof beats of thunder and torrential rain came down upon the rooftop and the gardens.

My morning coffee was not interrupted by the storms; although I had to move the rocking chair back a few inches to keep from getting wet.

Because I was raised on Broadway songs, I just can't stop singing, "On the street where you live..." from My Fair Lady. Here is an excerpt in case you have forgotten.

I hope your day is full of sun or rain wherever you are.

Until tomorrow.

Inside the Ocracoke Island Lighthouse with Lou Ann

I thought you might like to take a look inside the Ocracoke Lighthouse. I actually took this video last summer, but some things do not go out of date!

If you are on the Island, come on over on Wednesday or Thursday afternoons from 1-3 for a great photo shoot and a few tales as well.

Until tomorrow.

John Masefield and Ocracoke Island

I MUST go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,

And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,

And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,

And a gray mist on the sea's face, and a gray dawn breaking.

I must down go to the seas again, for the call of the running tide

Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;

And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,

And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,

To the gull's way and the whale's way, where the wind's like a whetted knife;

And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,

And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.

John Masefield

I have loved this poem ever since I was a child. My father used to recite, not read, it to me. We spent our summers on Lake Michigan, and whereas Lake Michigan is not the sea, it was and is spectacular to me. 

Masefield was born in 1878 in Herefordshire, England and was trained as a merchant seaman. In 1895 he left his ship in New York City and worked in a carpet factory. He soon returned home to London to write poetry and became the British poet laureate in 1930.  

Even if you do not live by the sea, the poem keeps dreams in your head.

Until tomorrow.

John Masefield, British Poet Laureate