Ptown Sights by Peter Hocking
I am he that walks with the tender and growing night,
I call to the earth and sea half-held by the night.
Press close bare-bosom’d night—press close magnetic nourishing night!
Night of south winds—night of the large few stars!
Still nodding night—mad naked summer night.
– Walt Whitman, Song of Myself (Section 21)
Photo by Peter Hocking
Ptown Sights by Peter Hocking
When I was a kid my grandmother would take me to the remains of a boat yard near her home. For more than a century it was an integral part of New Haven’s oyster trade. By the 1970s the cradles held only old wrecks. Provincetown’s remaining boat cradle, still working, still an integral part of our fishing fleet’s work, returns me to boyish wonder about boats lifted from water and held by the sky.
Photo by Peter Hocking
Ptown Sights by Peter Hocking
Provincetown is layered and textured, and seemingly shifts on an hourly basis. If magic is the disorientation of common expectation, this place has some.
Photo by Peter Hocking
Ptown Sights by Peter Hocking
As a kid, I fell in love the delicate intricacy of Daucus Carota, commonly known as wild carrot, bird’s nest, and Queen Anne’s lace. And I felt entirely deflated when some adult told me it was a weed. I later learned that weeds are simply wild plants that defy human efforts to tame the plant kingdom. That allows me to again love Daucus Carota – maybe a little more.
Photo by Peter Hocking
Ptown Sights by Peter Hocking
The walk to Herring Cove is filled with many natural delights. But the beach’s threshold holds a final surprise. Provincetown people have always made good use of the materials that wash ashore, and the sculptural forms that punctuate Herring Cove’s shoreline are just the latest manifestation of this long tradition.
Photo by Peter Hocking
Ptown Sights by Peter Hocking
After an informal start the previous summer, on the front porch of Hutchins Hapgood and Neith Boyce’s home, the summer of 1916 launched the Provincetown Players at Lewis Wharf. The Provincetown Players had a short run, both in Provincetown and in New York City, essentially dissolving in the early 1920s. But the resonance of their efforts lives on. They changed the face of the American stage. And, in Provincetown, they showed us that all sorts of performance might be layered onto our landscape.
Photo: Peter Hocking
Ptown Sights by Peter Hocking
After posting something about the recent Brexit vote on Facebook, an American friend told me that it wasn’t any of my business and that it didn’t affect me. I disagree. We live in an interconnected world, where local decisions resonate around the world. In Provincetown I was delighted to stumble upon a positive expression of our connectedness, as people gathered and cheered on Commercial Street for the European Football Championship over Independence Day weekend.
Photo: Peter Hocking
Ptown Sights by Peter Hocking
I’m fascinated by the ways we write our identities into the landscape. Sometimes we make big statements (the Pilgrim Monument, for example), but more often we make our stories known in moments of celebration. Last weekend’s Portuguese Festival and Blessing of the Fleet are marvelous examples of how Provincetown makes space for the experience of the many people who are essential to its vibrant culture.
Photo: Peter Hocking
Ptown Sights by Peter Hocking
Violas are pretty intrepid, but I was surprised (and delighted) to find these blooms sprouting through the crushed clam shells of my neighbor’s driveway. Provincetown’s beauty emerges in the tiniest details.
Photo: Peter Hocking
Ptown Sights by Peter Hocking
Provincetown is beloved for its beaches and lively town, but I’ve come to love its woods, too. Earlier this month, I stumbled across this colony of Lady Slippers (Cypripedium acaule Ait.) in the woods near Blackwater Pond.
Photo by Peter Hocking
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