Sunday at the Park and Beach with Auntie

I was inspired today by Laura over at Rhinestone Armadillo, who posted about playing in the water. It's part of her "Summer of Awesomeness" series, for which I will be guest blogging during the week of July 17.

It occurred to me, when I was reading Laura's suggestions about going to the city pool or driving to the beach, how lucky I am to be able to walk to the beach.

I didn't actually go play in the water. You'll notice nobody was playing in the water and it was noon on a Sunday. That's because this is Rhode Island, where the water temperature is 68 degrees. (Really. I looked it up on NOAA.gov.)

The part of the beach I stood on to take the picture is known as Reject Beach -- it's the public-access part of the fancy-schmancy Bailey's Beach Club. You can't see it in the photo, but there is a rope just past where the guy is sitting all by himself that goes right down into the water and separates the fancy section (with the buildings) from the section used by lesser mortals.

The rich folks can't block public access, but they can put up up a sign limiting our activities. I guess it's okay to sunbathe topless, though. Good to know.

Reject Beach is at the very end of Newport's Cliff Walk. As you can see, there was some fog along the shore today -- just a normal day in coastal RI. Actually, I enjoy watching the fog roll in off the ocean.

Cliff Walk takes you past some pretty fancy real estate. This is just somebody's house; the path also meanders past The Breakers, Rough Point, and other celebrated Newport mansions.

Look! It's the SS Minnow! Wow, they really got lost in the fog. The good news, though, is that there aren't any headhunters on this island. Nor, as far as I know, are there any bats who will bite you and turn you into Dracula.

On my way home, I decided to show you my favorite park: Rovensky Park on the corner of Bellevue and Rovensky Avenues.

The park is very well kept and has the prettiest trees -- many of which are marked with informative plaques about the trees' species and origins.

For example, these Japanese Cedars are natives of Asia. From a distance they appear to be one tree, but when you get closer you can see that they are four trees planted very close together. I'm sure the planting was done for solid horticultural reasons.

But standing within the trees is like being in the middle of a group of sisters dancing with their arms entwined. I've always sought out spots like this to think about things or to read a book. I was a dreamy child, full of fanciful notions like trees being able to dance. Everyone thought I'd outgrow it. Thankfully, I never did.