Bournedale

One of the five villages of Bourne, in case it ever comes up in a bar bet...

This is what you git  when you give me the lane. I close your ballfield. I am Dusk. Play at your own risk.

 

That little bump on the horizon is the Bourne Bridge.

See?

 

You know it's an ancient way when you see a stone wall... some on my neighbors are worried that the British might come back, you see....

 

I prowled around a bit, but this was the highlight shot of the Burying Hill.

Bournedale Herring Run. One can chop down the tallest tree in the forest wiiiiith... a Herring!

In case you ever wondered how I smoke marijuana with two kids, there's usually a point of every day where I leave them with Shea and walk down here, which I believe is the most peaceful place on Earth.

In the winter, I just do an inordinate amount of laundry.

Herring are born in fresh water, go to sea, then return to spawn in the pond which, umm, spawned them.

 

Well, they weren't really crossing... but I found a few in the pasture.

 

This pic cost me my apple, but it was worth it. "Ladies call me Hoss, the booty filler."

 

  This is actually a guy I don't know, fishing Monponsett Lake (my namesake). I'm trying to work this into one of Scalzi's Monday photo shoots.That's a cutting board in his left hand, in case you thought he was gonna throw the little fella back or something.

We visited last year, and explained the process better here... The Million Cran March<FONTCOLOR=#FFFF66>  and here... Mann To The Fiz-Arm

October on Cape Cod ... foliage

 

Bournedale... ruff-ly the same area

 

Dog Meets Bog.... yet more cranberries..

 

 

Enough Beta Carotene To Turn A Baby Orange.... Pumpkins of all sorts

 

A Grassy Noel.....berries

Tags: Cape Cod