Bristol, Rhode Island is a town full of ancient clapboard houses (lovingly preserved), grass beaches (with oh-so-rocky shorelines) and lots and lots of boats.
My aunt and uncle bought this historic house last year, and it is absolutely adorable. The rooms are small (the better to heat in a New England winter), and the house rambles around in that way peculiar to homes built before 1900. Even better, it's a block from the water and comes complete with sea breeze and harbor views.
I woke up early every morning and ventured out to the front porch to enjoy the cool temperatures, strong coffee and doorstep-delivered newspaper.
My Aunt Cathi's hydrangeas thrive on the bright sun and cool fog.
On three of my four mornings, I took a walk around town, looping back around to the house by way of High Street, where I spotted my very favorite house of all.
I spotted this oxidized copper gate on Walley Street. It sported elephants and swans, but these dudes were my favorites.
The Lobster Pot is a happening place, you know?
For putting boats in the water.
The church book sale. They had a complete set of V.C. Andrews. No comment.
This float struck me as very David Lynch. It came toward the beginning of the three-hour Fourth of July parade; I eventually decamped to the beach. The perfect balance, in my opinion.