Artie Hilbert - Cape Cod featuring Steve Sibley on the Saxophone

Slideshow Art and Photography by Heather MacKenzie

Along the Chatham Fish Pier,

The fishing boats have gone,

Away to sea where one is free,

To be where one belongs.

A Different Breed ore those like he,

Who grew beside the sea,

Who learn the ways of nature,

And a time that waits to be.

Leaving in the summer morning,

Through water calm as glass,

Breathing in the ocean air,

And wild roses as you pass.

Along North Beach to Monomoy,

A thousand times you go,

With your restless diesel,

As the morning wakes the Cove.

But heading out in winter,

It’s hard to stay alive,

When the sea is filled with anger,

There’s nowhere they can hide.

The summers come and go,

In a blink it often seems,

The winters are long and waiting,

For the gentler winds in spring.

For the seasons turn the pages,

Then color them in time,

And the memories we treasure,

Of the Cape that never die.

The pine needle roads through the groves,

Off Old Queen Ann where the Indian pipes grow,

To the quiet ponds where I have gone,

To find the peace in a quiet song.

Orleans and Brewster,

Eastham along the bay,

That special place in Autumn,

When the crowd has gone away.

Down Main Street to the Lighthouse,

Morris Island around the bend,

Down Bridge Street, around the loop,

And back to town again.

The Clambakes on the beach,

Playing football on the sand,

Skin-diving and water skiing,

Laying out to get a tan.

Sailing to the islands,

Riding horses along the bay,

Or the soft dunes in Provincetown,

Where lovers hide away.

With glowing coals of campfire,

And the star’s shining down,

We nuzzled inside our sleeping bag,

Asleep to the ocean sound.

The Cranberry Bog the Golden Marsh,

The beauty from the sea,

And Cape Cod will always fill my heart,

From all her memories.