One of the wonderful things about Cape May is its sense of history. The Victorian architecture is lovingly preserved, and you see gingerbread trim and colorful paint jobs nearly everywhere.
I tried to take a few shots
but, sadly, I'm no Franklin. The residents clearly are all gardeners and even small yards were filled with perennials, crape myrtle trees and other blooming plants.
We visited the Cape May Lighthouse
and Tom and James climbed to the top,
while I entertained the twins below. Well, sort of; you can see from Grace's expression how she was enjoying it all.
Our house had a row of birdhouses
along the fence, and we were very close to some of the protected land that is designed to provide a safe haven for birds to nest without being disturbed. The number of butterflies -- I recognized monarchs, but not any others -- was breathtaking.
James flew a kite on the beach
with his dad's help
At one point, the wind, which was quite strong (our beach umbrella blew over and conked me on the head), took the kite out of James' hand and blew it toward the ocean. James started yelling, and a woman who surely was a marathon runner or decathlon athlete took off down the beach after it, even diving in the waves to try to retrieve it. Alas, it was already blown out to sea. James cried and I suggested we walk down the shore to see if we could spot it being washed in by the tide. Lo and behold, some very kind kayakers rowed out to the kite, rolled it up and let the waves carry them ashore, handing us the kite. Such a sweet gesture of kindness that meant the world to us.
Wonder of wonders, look at the print I noticed on the living room wall:
It was a good omen.