Another place I always like returning to when I’m home is a place called Bone Hill. The road winds it’s way through conservation lands, overgrown fields and briar-clogged woods which Chieko said look like the trees she imagines in haunted fairy tale forests (and I agree), and eventually runs smack into the waters of Barnstable Harbor. Across the water you can see the back side and tip of Sandy Neck. Out there the beach lives up to its name, and there are no foot-wrecking stones to be found.
At some point since I was last here, someone installed goats in the fields along the road. They were eager to see me and came running over to the fence when I approached. Once they realized I had nothing to offer, it was back to business as usual.
It snowed again all day with nothing to show for it. The days are starting to fly by.