Off Season Shores

There’s something really special about the New England off season - especially if you love the beach.

When summer clears out and the shoreline quiets down, everything changes. The pace slows. The crowds disappear, and with them the seasonal businesses that pack up and close until warmer days and longer evenings return. The coast feels like it’s finally exhaling.

Why the off season is the best time to beachcomb

This is when the beach gives the most.

Without footprints layered on top of each other, the shoreline stays open longer. Storms and tides have room to rearrange things. Clammers - the quahoggers - can’t take the cold estuary waters, leaving the glass to reveal itself naturally with the tide. Shells surface. Sea glass shows up pale and timeworn, giving new meaning to frosty glass. Driftwood arrives sculptural and stripped back.

Off season beachcombing isn’t rushed. It’s like a cold plunge - it’s intentional. You’re there because you want to be there. There’s truly nowhere else you’d rather be. You’re not weaving around people, just racing daylight and keeping time before you get frostbite in your fingertips. You walk faster - but you still notice more. You let the tide decide what you’ll find.

It’s quieter - but richer.

A month of being here

This past month, I’ve been off from school, and I didn’t realize how much I needed it until I was in it.

The days are shorter now, which means the timing has to be just right. The tide, the weather, daylight, and a two-year-old who doesn’t need a nap all have to line up for a beach walk to be possible.

When it works, it feels like a small victory.

I’ve been out there enough that I’ve gone through an entire variety pack of hand warmers this month alone - something a friend I met through beachcombing recommended earlier this season, and now I can’t imagine going without.

We’ve spent more time together as a family. More mornings deciding last-minute to head to the beach because the weather allowed it. More bundled walks, pockets filling slowly, stopping often to look closely at whatever caught our eye.

There’s something grounding about letting Mother Nature set the schedule - going when the wind eases, when the tide lines up, when the coast feels inviting instead of forced.

These off-season days have felt full in a quiet way.

Creating from the quiet

The work I’ve been making lately reflects that shift.

More neutral palettes. More negative space. More attention to texture and balance. Pieces like Stick Season, Snowy Dunes, and Off Season Shores are rooted in these walks - in winter light, exposed shoreline, and the calm that comes when the beach belongs mostly to itself.

Nothing is hurried. Nothing is extra. Each element earns its place.

Looking ahead

As much as I’ve loved this pause, I’m also stepping into an exciting season.

I’ve recently started my internship, continuing to learn and grow in ways that feel deeply aligned with both my creative work and my love for the ocean. I’m planning on graduating at the end of the summer, and it honestly feels surreal to even write that.

My first market of the year is February 1st, and I’m already daydreaming about beach markets, longer days, and a season shaped by tides, travel, and time outside.

There’s a lot ahead - new opportunities, new chapters, and new ways of showing up for both my art and my family - and I’m feeling incredibly grateful and excited for what’s coming.

For now, I’m carrying the off season with me.

The quiet. The space. The reminder that sometimes the best things show up when you slow down enough to let them.

Created by the ocean.