Over Labor Day, I packed my chic backpack and five dollar flip flops for an adventure to Martha’s Vineyard.
Everyone told me it would be beautiful. Everyone was wrong. It’s pure magic.
The light hits everything perfectly, any time of day. The dunes undulate with the same power and softness as the waves. Most of all, the island seems wonderfully stuck in a time when people built homes, fences and gardens with imperfect hands and improvised plans. It has that subtle, subdued wildness I love.
I spent most of the weekend tethered to my camera, attempting to snatch little glimpses of the island’s spirit. These are just a few shots. I posterized the last one just for a little artsy fun.