I miss New England. At a gut level, it’s where my body feels like it belongs. Mostly, I miss the trees and mountains, both of which are in short supply on the Eastern Shore.

But Chestertown has gifts of its own. Last night while running, I had to stop and take a photo from the bridge, looking out across the docks on the Queenstown side.

And then, once I’d reached the other shore, I took another shot of the houses along Water Street.

It really is a gift to live in such a place. I hope that Chestertown doesn’t hear me when I pine for the Berkshires.