Scenario 1: It’s 8:28 p.m. and the sun is about to set on Long Island Sound. The waves come in … then go out … then come back in, lapping against the shore gently, yet loudly enough to still mimic the sound of the ocean. A mixture of soft blue and pink scatters the sky in a place far off in the northwest that, as you sit atop a 200-foot bluff, seems thousands of miles away. Yet Connecticut seems so close, you wonder how long it would take to kayak there.
Scenario 2: It’s early in the morning. Looking out at Peconic Bay, a body of water so synonymous with the region people have longed to name a county after it, you walk along the sandy beach occasionally glancing out at the Hamptons. Or maybe you’re looking out over one of the scores of creeks that dot Peconic Bay and spot an osprey swinging down to scoop up bunker. The weekday morning is quiet, but in a few days you may see several dozen boats out on the water in a single area, searching for porgies.
These two scenes offer a glimpse into what it means to live on one of the two bodies of water that surround the North Fork like a glove on a hand. (more…)