Going Dark

It means different things in different contexts.

A spy ceases communication to avoid detection. A company halts operations or delists from the stock exchange. An individual or group stops all social media activity as a protest or simply because they need a break. Police might temporarily halt operations. Encrypted communications might be temporarily impossbile to access.

A teenager might take a break by not responding to text messages or emails to establish independendence and use their time differently. Someone else may want to focus on a project or improve their productivity by disconnecting from others. Another person might be isolating until a problem is solved or because of stress. Someone else may be trying to avoid burnout

Disappear. Become suddenly unavailable. Sometimes they just want some quiet to listen to the ocean move along the shoreline.

Fall-ing in Love: 40 Days of Noticing is a daily writing practice that opens a landscape of discovery into my own human experience.

Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life.

 

Less Is Enough

It's just before midnight and in under the wire. I've kept my promise to myself to show up today, write, and ship. It doesn't have to be long or insightful. Less doesn't have to be more. It just has to be enough. The point is to show up. For myself.

I spent the last two days driving through six states to finish my week-long New England road trip. Been to places I've never been, seen things I've never seen, tried things I've never experienced. Hopped on the ferry in Cape May and watched the sky go pink. Drove off the boat in Delaware. I'm taking a deep breath as I settle in for a few days at the beach. Delighted that I have nowhere to go and nothing to do. 

I get to revisit being for a few days . . . three of them. 

Fall-ing in Love: 40 Days of Noticing is a daily writing practice that opens a landscape of discovery into my own human experience.

Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life.

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Powertools in Provincetown

An otherwise peaceful Sunday morning is disturbed by the guy using a leaf blower across the street outside of Mussel Beach Gym. Okay, the name of the gym is clever, but the completely unnecessary use of a power tool in the 8 o'clock hour on a Sunday morning has me feeling a little crabby. Add to that, that the ground is wet because of early morning rain and I'm wondering if the use of powertools in the morning is simply habit.

I've written about them before. They're a scourge on too many quiet mornings. I don't object to them per se, just the inconsiderate use of them. 

The swoosh of the pushbroom the Mussel Beach guy is using now feels so much more consistent with the vibe here. Especially as I enjoy a quiet cup of tea on the covered deck. 

The sound has me thinking about yesterday's whale watch trip and the blow of an association of humpback whales near enough to the boat I could almost touch them. 

It was a surprise. Most of my trip companions were on the other side of the boat waiting for the humbacks to surface after the last dive. I was tired of vying for space at the rail, so I meandered over to the other side of the boat and was looking down into the water. Suddenly, the tell tale green sheen on the water and shiny surface of the whales' backs appeared sumultaneously with a mighty puff of air and water vapor. First one, and then the other. Sometimes whales get together in pairs and swim that way for awhile - it's called an association. Their graceful water ballet culminates with the rise of their split tail as they dive.

Just off Cape Cod is one of the known feeding areas of three species of whales - humpback, fin, and minke. Humbacks spend the summer feeding, before their migration to the waters surrounding the Dominican Republic where they mate and calve. Their gestation period is 11 months, so pregnant females will make the journey this year and return with their calves next summer. Other females will return to the feeding waters pregnant with calves that will be born after the next year's journey south. 

Our whale watch took us into these feeding areas. We saw all three of the species. The fin whale is the second longest cetacean after the blue whale. They're likened to greyhounds because they are slender and fast. I thought they also were playful and a little mischevious. All three whale types seem joyful to me. The minke is smaller and has an underbelly that is black on one side and white on the other, camouflage believed to confuse predators while feeding. All three are baleen whales that filter plankton with the whalebone that lines their mouths.  

We sail away from Provincetown today, back across the cape and down the coast to Newport and Mystic, on the watch for other feeding areas. The human kind.  

Fall-ing in Love is a 40 day writing practice that opens a landscape of discovery into my own human experience.

Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life.

   

To Be or Not To Be?

The question looms large as I reflected while writing in my morning journal on what felt, just for a moment, like the most unsettling aspect of a vacation like this. Do we buy our lives with accomplishment? Or is there such a thing as the grace simply to live, to draw breath? To experience an unstructured day without this becoming yet another goal?

We set aside the day to be completely unstructured, to stroll through town, wandering in a sense, and stopping whenever something seemed interesting to us. We explored shops, curiousities, and the food scene. We happened upon the most flavorful scoop of strawberry ice cream on a sugar cone I've ever had. It tasted like a burst of summer, here, as the weather teases the threshold to fall. 

And then there was the lobster. 

It was a complete surprise. We'd planned to stay in last night and prepare the duck breast that Charlie brought from Philly for such a night as that. But a serendipitous gift from my brother and his recommendation of a favorite restaurant had us (or me, anyway) dolling up for a beautiful dinner out on the water. I wore the coral top I'd bought earlier in the day, marked down to half price as the shop clears its summer stock. My tan from summer lingers still; the evening was breezy on the water; people in shorts strolled down the streel. It could have been summer, but for the date on the calendar.

Charlie had a Corona. I had a glass of Malbec. We shared four Wellfleet oysters, a cup of chowder, and a lobster. The last time I had lobster I was 24 and it was a bad lobster. I couldn't even look at another for almost forty years. Forty seems to be the magic number these days.

Light from the nearby pier danced on the water. Nearby conversations were soft. Moments streched into an evening. 

Fall-ing in Love: 40 Days of Noticing is a daily writing practice that opens a landscape of discovery into my own human experience.

Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life.

Farm to Table

The rain moved off, but it roared before it went. Relentlessly pounding most of the day, there were just a few breaks but it was enough. 

I had wanted to walk through Harvard's campus on a crisp, autumn day. I think I was expecting something compact and recognizable as a campus. Didn't really find that and maybe I didn't know where to look, but a quick drive through the area had me fleeing to Memorial Drive and its riverside ride, hunting for boat houses. We took a quick ride through Boston's historical center and the beautiful Public Gardens, skirted the Boston Commons and felt like we had a taste of the city, enough for this trip.

We headed south, toward Island Creek Oyster Farm in Duxbury. Charlie arranged for a tour of the nursery and it was one of the most interesting couple of hours I've spent in a long time. We learned how baby oysters, or oyster seed, are nourished by the different kinds of algaes in their local waters. Learned how they spawn and can change sexes depending on what is needed. Learned about the role of temperature. Learned about the whole process from seed to harvest. I laughed when I learned these folk call themselves farmers. It makes sense, but it was one of those "I never realized" moments that had me chuckling at myself. From test tubes to dishes to tanks to mesh bags and from laboratory to the bay, the journey from seed to table for a responsibly farmed oyster is fascinating. Threre's environmental impact; the waters are markedly improved as they go about this work. Federal grants support the effort, and still support it.

The raw bar there offers the freshest oysters possible, and they were delicious. They also have the tastiest clam chowder we've tried on the trip. The farm raises clams for its own use in the raw bar and nearby fine dining restaurant it operates. We also saw the caviar packing operation. There must have been hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of caviar in the two small fridges onsite. 

The rain paused long enough for us to walk outside and see the oyster houses on the bay and learn about the outdoor operations, but the skies opened up once again as we got in the car and headed for Cape Cod. We'd planned a stop at Cooke's Seafood in Orleans, about halfway up the cape to share a cup of chowder and a lobster roll. It did not disappoint, but Island Creek continues to hold the title, so far, in our quest for the best New England clam chowder. What I loved about it . . . its light and flavorful broth. There is no heaviness to it. All the flavors are there . . . bacon, corn liquid, clam juice, the delicate notes of the aromatics. The vegetables are beautifully diced and perfectly cooked. The clams are high quality and flavorful. The chowder tastes fresh. Would a food critic agree with my metrics? I have no idea, but I like what I like.

We settled into our AirBnB in Provincetown. A hiccup with our check-in forced us outside to explore the town while the owner took care of the issue. We're staying in a walkable section of town and are near shops, cafes, and restaurants. We thought we would stay in last night but were glad to be out for a little recon around how we want to spend today, exploring the town, the shops, the food scene. Tomorrow is whale watching. The next day we head off. It's just a taste.

Fall-ing in Love: 40 Days of Noticing is a daily writing practice that opens a landscape of discovery into my own human experience.

Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life. 

Chowder and Nathaniel Hawthorne

We drove into Salem at an odd angle and were greeted by the water. Despite its reputation for the witch craze in the 1690s, what I really wanted to see was the House of the Seven Gables. True confession: I've never actually read the book. The Scarlet Letter put me off Hawthorne. Not because of the writing. That was wonderful. But because of the agony of the story. His titles draw me. His atmospheric style draws me. At 60-something I'll finally read the book. Picked it up at the gift shop while I was there. Mary Oliver wrote the introduction to this edition. Almost picked up Twice Told Tales, but I didn't want to go overboard. That's another title that draws me. So much about books draw me, and I have stacks and stacks of unread titles to prove it. I hope to get to them someday, but there are always new books that snare me.

The tour is fantastic. The gardens are beautiful. The history of the house is fascinating. Its little secrets enchanting. I'd go back again. Just being in the place feels like being taken out of time. I found real rest there and a little bit of spark. I'd like to spend more time going deeper if I go back.

The parking pass allows a stay of two hours past the time of your tour. A candy shop across the street beckoned and we decided to spend some time looking at whatever was nearby. We walked by the Salem Maritime National Historic Site. I forgot my park pass at the AirBnB, so we didn't go in. I'm already making notes for another trip. But we did get to see the architecture of the buildings as we strolled by. Looking at the architecture in Salem would be a great way to spend a day even if you did nothing else. 

The plan was to stop for clam chowder at two places in town. One of them was close enough to stop after the tour. Right on the water, the Sea Level Oyster Bar offered a few minutes to sit and talk about the morning. We had chowder and shared fried oysters, and mussels Provencal. Both appetizers. Both enormous amounts of food. I had a glass of Reisling and Charlie had a pumpkin beer in a cinnamon and sugar rimmed glass. I had a sip and, just for a moment, wished I'd ordered that. But the Reisling was perfect with the mussels, which was the best thing we ordered. The oysters were good. The chowder was disappointing. Our quest for excellent New England clam chowder continues. 

After lunch, we drove around town, past the Commons and the Salem Witch Museum, and back to the wharf to look at the shops. We skipped a second planned stop for chowder later in the afternoon and decided instead on a driving microadventure. With an impromptu look at the map, we plotted a drive along a scenic coastal road through Marblehead and around the coast before heading to our dinner spot in Woburn. We had North Shore roast beef, deliciously rare and drenched in James River barbecue sauce with curly fries and were back at the AirBnB by 6. 

I held the book in my hand and thought about opening it and beginning to read, but my laptop called from the table, reminding me of my promise to myself to write and ship every day for forty days. Every day. Spending the day in an early American shipping center feels like odd encouragement.     

Fall-ing in Love: 40 Days of Noticing is a daily writing practice that opens a landscape of discovery into my own human experience.

Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life.  

Enough

The day was humid, temperatures in the 60s. I couldn't tell if I was warm or I was cold, and when I got back to the AirBnb all I wanted was a long, hot shower. 

But there was mist on the waters, dancing spirits that appear on fall mornings. On rivers. On bays. On lakes. Rising even from deep puddles. It was a misty, clammy day. Not sure how I feel about that. Not sure it matters. I'm just noticing.

Feels apt for a day spent in Salem, Massachussettes. Witchy capital of the world in its witchiest season. I spent an hour in a shop called Enchanted, and I was captivated . Not sure if it was the baskets and bins of crystals or the rows of colorful candles and fragrant oils. Shelves of esoteric volumes and decks of oracle cards. Cases of jewelry and talismans. Votive statues and votive candles. The hag stone I held in my hand.

Sage wafted from an invisible blower and could have been a dragon's breath. Hours later I can still feel it on my tongue.

The lights were low and voices hushed. 

I went into exactly one store like this. It was enough.

Fall-ing in Love: 40 Days of Noticing is a daily writing practice that opens a landscape of discovery into my own human experience.

Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life. 

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Noticing the Signs Along the Way

Even with the GPS, I missed my exit to the George Washington Bridge. Missed the sign.The fix was easy enough. I got off at the next exit, got back on the highway and approached from a different direction.The delay meant we sat for about 20 minutes while a draw bridge was raised and lowered. By the time we passed over the bridge, any sign of the vessel had vanished. The water below seemed undisturbed.

And now that I sit on the couch in my AirBnB in Cambridge, thinking about the steady flow of green highway signs that organize drivers according to direction, I find myself wondering if our nervous systems are a little like this, impulses traveling along a network of neurons like vehicles on the tangled highways around New York City.

I'm glad to have arrived. We'll be here for a few days and then off to explore someplace else before heading off again. 

Fall-ing in Love : 40 Days of Noticing is a daily writing practice that opens a landscape of discovery into my own human experience.

Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life. 

 

Fall-ing in Love

The day stretches far beyond its light and deep into the night. I'm working my way out of town, and so much seems to come up. One thing after another. Another. And another. Just when I think I've got everything done, another email comes in. I notice another task to be done. I've put off writing until I can sit and breathe and relax and open myself to the wisdom and insights that love to come. It's a trap, of course. Just as writing only when you feel inspired is. Most writing happens in spite of not feeling inspired.

It doesn't mean you're not inspired. 

Inspiration is not about feeling. It's about doing. It comes as the flow begins. You hear your fingers tapping away on the keyboard, feel the scratch of the pen across the page. Action flows together with thought, and the moment stretches.

Or not. 

Sometimes you just keep writing because that's the only way the writing can begin.

Which leads me to today and the start of a new blog series, forty days this time, through the stretch of fall from the equinox through the end of October. 

In the ancient Celtic calendar, the new year begins with a three day celebration that bridges October and November. The harvest ends and the dark time of the year begins. In the ancient world, everything begins in darkenss . . . life in the womb, transformation in the tomb, the seed in the soil, composting. 

For now, we enjoy the bounty of the harvest. Harvest on every level. As I take some time away, I will [try to] cultivate some awareness around what the year has given me so far. Where I've been and where I am. Where I'd like to be by year's end. 

I've been thinking about how I'd like to move through the season. I can become engrossed with work, sometimes even swallowed. I need separation and to return to myself. Shake off the energetic residue of these last months and take a fresh look at life. It was just a few weeks ago that the swimming pool in my community closed, too soon with more hot, sunny days on the horizon. I look around today and there's wild color on the trees and leaves blowing on the wind, a chill in the morning air. It seems like a whole different season, and it is. I've fallen right out of summer and into fall. 

I'd like to move through the season awake to the love and wonder around me. If fall (the season) could be a verb, that's how I'd like to live these next weeks . . . fall-ing as I go. I'm looking forward to the smell of wood fires and the taste of a freshly picked apple. Apple cider and cider donuts. Feeling the wind on my face and smelling the change in the air. Marveling at the color of the foliage and at pumpkins fattening on the vine. Time spent with people I love and with the love in everything. Time streching out into long moments. Joy and wonder and laughter and noticing the little and big things in life. 

So, fall-ing in love.      

Fall-ing in Love: 40 Days of Noticing is a daily writing practice that opens a landscape of discovery into my own human experience.

Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year beings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life.

Photo: The Chalice Well, Glastonbury, England, on the fall equinox, September 22, 2025.