I call this by an obvious name: January Thaw on Bradford Street. I always started too late in the day. The sun was running out and the cold was placing its hand on the back of my neck again. Had to take a photo and finish up back at the house.
If you go to the end of Commercial Street, you can walk the huge stones of the breakwater out to the end of the cape. In winter those rocks are treacherous with ice, and when you reach the end, the sand is brittle beneath your shoes and what had been lush and dazzling in July is now barren and magnificent.
Is it conceivable to have loved that town more in winter than in summer?