This is what the north end  of the island looked like in 1962. Pretty doggone desolate–pretty pristine. The favorite pastime for many of the ladies of the island (especially in the winter months) was to drive from one end of the island to  the other at around ten miles per hour and just look. This is what there was to look at. Personally I think it looks a hell of a lot better than a bunch of big houses that block the view of the ocean.
I often wonder if those ladies were lonely when they took those long drives or if they simply enjoyed being alone and looking at the peaceful quiet of Topsail.

writing tip: write every day and if you can’t do that, think about writing every day.

quote: The worst feeling isn’t being lonely but being forgotten by someone you can’t forget.

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