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Just west of New Bedford Massachusetts, lies a small farming town along a harbor with one entrance road. The entrance road stretches from 195 and runs straight down into Horseneck Beach State Reservation. A stop light here and there pauses your journey for brief moments of time with signs letting you know what districts you would be in if you decided to wander off. There isn’t much in Westport but homes, harbors, and farms, but what it holds at the end is a hidden gem in Massachusetts. Going through the rolling dunes of Horseneck and viewing the very Cape Codesque scenery of small trees and desert like brush the road ends at the calm Atlantic waters of Buzzards Bay. Taking a right you wind along the coast through a village of small cottages that are 3rd or 4th generation from storms taking out the originals. The actual only original structure is an old life saving barn that survived the Hurricane of ’38.

A man made barrier stretched out onto a small just of land named Gooseberry Island. If you were to look at a map it appears to be the entrance to Buzzards Bay as it almost aligns with Cuttyhunk, the last of the Elizabeth Islands.

The Island is small and incredibly rocky. A few walking paths bring you through low lying brush and reeds along the mixed sandy and rocky shore line. It lies fairly flat with the brush just below the vision so it appears to stretch out to infinity. The brush is thick and thorny, and reeds are thick and fill in great amounts of fresh water. Parking the car in the dirt parking lot Buzzards Bay Juts off to the left and to the right is the long coast of Rhode Island. A path starts towards the southern point of where you are allowed to park.

Entering on to the path you notice two large towers on the horizon. This lies the abandoned old World War II outposts placed by the Army at the start of WWII. They are the soul visual reference for anywhere that you venture to on the island. The path starts in the same texture as the parking lot, mixed of beach sand packed down from years of use and small stones and pebbles. The path meanders for about a half mile with mixed terrains from the packed sand, to beach sand, to old gravel. The wind cutting across the island and the feel of salt in the air makes you realize you are on the coast when at time you cannot see water on either side.From here on out I’ll let the photos do the talking

The larger of the two towers approaching on the path.

Graffiti now stands as the artwork on the side of the towers that lay abandoned for decades.

Perspective of how close they sat

Inside the larger tower

Walking past heading out to the beach

The towers a long the beach from furthest point on island.

Planto Utor Vestri Vicis.

Make the Most of Your Time. Everyone has a different definition for the value our lives hold. In short though, our lives are time, and in it’s most extreme, the time is measured in an hourglass. Nobody actually knows how much sand their hourglass holds and nobody knows when the sand will slowly funnel away to the bottom. Without the knowledge of our time of passing it is a human’s purpose to leave a mark on this earth. Our paths are all different and our souls wander in different directions, but in the end, the possibility of creating a legacy for the future to see and to appreciate is the main objective.

This does not mean winning a Nobel Peace Prize, or becoming the President of the United States. At the rawest form, your footprints left behind could be something in your own backyard. It can be the simplest message. We are given time as a gift to portray this message and leave are own time stamp for future generations in our family and friends to look back on. Make the most of your time while you reside on this planet and do not block others with different paths from their happiness. Accept others dreams and your dreams shall be made reality.

Below are a few images I shot in my wanderings trying to make the most of the valuable time that has been laid before us. I hope you enjoy.

Warm winter days in the Village in New York City. A day for a stroll through Washington Park and a rare scene of a lonely car less avenue in Manhattan

Driving down Route 66 at dusk through Arizona brought some mild boredom. Heat exhausted from driving through Nevada with no AC and the temperatures at well over 100 degrees made the mind weary. I saw the train coming one way at high speed as we were going the other way.

My sister decided that January would be a great time to move to Newburyport. We finished up the move and I went down to the mouth of the Merrimack River. I wanted to take a walk but this is as far down the boardwalk I got. The wind was frigid, but the light was right.

Mount Monadnock off on the horizon on a warm September day.

South Dakota brings long straight roads through rolling prairies with miles of wind blown fields. At times it reminds you of an ocean of land with wave motions in the prairie grass from the short gusts of wind. From a distance on the roads you can see what looks like a dog’s jaw on the horizon. As you get closer the jaws transform into amazing pillars of colored sand and stone. In a land of flat landscape, the range look more like temples and amazing creations.

Driving the upper peninsula of Michigan we came across a small town with a nice beach on Lake Michigan. The nice beach had a nice lighthouse. It was nice.

The idea was to leave the highway and wind our way around Lake Coeur D’Alene in Idaho to actually arrive in the resort town of Coeur D’Alene. Little did we know how large the lake was or how long it was going to take not actually being on a main road. We ran way past our deadline, but we made the most of the adventure with views like this.

Vast expanses of land protected and guarded by barb wire fence.

On our way home from Cleveland after a football game a detour through Pennsylvania was in order. Getting of the highway we tried to find Gravity Hill. Every barn had a stamp on it for Mail Pouch Tobacco.

Day breaks and the winds pick up outside the harbor. Check your plots and set the GPS to the fishing grounds. Leave with the fleet but break off and blaze your own trail in a land only nature can tame.

Warm sunny days, a blazing sun, and a pier to jump off. Some day’s that’s all you need.

Make the Most Of Your Time…