Back to Route 6A (and the East End beach)
Early last Summer, my camera and I took a bike ride out of Provincetown to Route 6A in Truro, heading out of town and back toward the “mainland.” I took a bunch of photos and wrote about the old-timey magic out that way.
I made a similar trek in February, which had all the same old-timey magic but also a lot of numb fingers and toes by the time I was done shooting. It made me long for June.
The road was busy with cars, cyclists, and runners when I was there last year. In February it was deserted, with just an occasional car passing by. Most of the cottages and motels are shuttered in the Winter, which adds to the sense of isolation. As an introvert, I embraced the lack of humans out and about.
The Winter’s glow is exceptional, and if not for the freezing temperatures (and frequent clouds) I’d be out every day making photos. I really lucked out on the light last month, and was able to shoot a bunch of my favorite spots on 6A, including the Day’s Cottages.
I also had time to go to the beach in the East End of Provincetown, just before sunset. The tide was low, which meant I could muck my way out pretty far (I had on waterproof boots) and get some nice angles of the Provincetown skyline. A person was walking their dog pretty far out, and I got some fun photos of them.
Looking at this shoot and the one from last year, you can see how different the light is in the Winter versus the Summer. The sun is so much lower in the sky in the Winter, and sets in a very different place than in the Summer. In the Winter, the light on the water is spectacular and lasts for a long time–lots of purples, greens, oranges, and pinks. Dusk seems to start in mid-afternoon and drags on for a couple of hours.
In the Summer the light is mostly a golden glow that doesn’t stick around very long–most clear days it’s super bright and then sunset suddenly happens. But the light is still stunning, and the Summer residents and tourists all love golden hour.
In February, things here are so barren and brown that it’s almost impossible to think that it will ever again be lush and green and filled with flowers (and humans). Reflecting on these two shoots was a way to remind myself that time is always slowly marching on, even when things feel dark and tough, and we will eventually make our way to warmth and community.
