I’m writing this entry on a dark, chilly evening in late November in northern Florida, where I am spending Thanksgiving with my girlfriend. The rain and mist have been ever present today, and I am reminded of the Pacific weather of northern California that I love so dearly. The algid, foggy air endows the surrounding branches with its moisture, which soon joins the light rain on its drifting descent to the ground. My breaths hang suspended in the air; white, vaporous clouds that bespeak the arrival of winter. It is a far cry from the numbing cold of a New York winter, but still enough to impart a chill in my bones.
It’s Thanksgiving today, that quintessentially American holiday most often celebrated by the consumption of far too much food. Growing up outside of the United States, Thanksgiving does not have the same inherent significance in my heart as other holidays, but it is as good a day as any to remember where one came from. This entry is devoted not to the common topics of style and art that I usually write about, but to my own roots.
As this is an image heavy entry, please click the link below to view the full post and all of the photos.
It is said that who we are is undeniably shaped by where we come from. I grew up in the Bahamas on Eleuthera, an island of one hundred and ten miles in length, but sparsely populated. In Greek, Eleuthera means “free.” One often hears reminiscing about the freedoms of childhood, but growing up on a Caribbean island really adds a new sense of meaning to the concept of freedom. We grew our own vegetables in a sprawling garden behind the house, we caught our own fish, lobster, and conch. What things we could not grow or buy on the island, we flew to Florida for in my father’s airplane. It was a dream childhood, no doubt, but not without its own shortcomings. Friends of my own age on the island were few and far between – my best friend lived at the end of the island, some fifty miles away and we saw each other but a few times a year. I grew up in the company of adults, finding myself in later years much more comfortable conversing with people decades older than with my own young peers. Certainly, there are far worse fates in childhood, but it made for a somewhat awkward adolescence.
The following images, though none were taken by me, sum up what it was like growing up in the Bahamas. In celebration of Thanksgiving, leave a comment and tell me where you grew up and what your childhood was like.
My parents celebrating a birthday
my father yachting
My mother on the wharf
My father piloting his airplane, en route to the United States
At the Family Island Regatta off Great Exuma, Bahamas
My mother & a friend on a motorcyle; one of the best methods of island transportation
Complete freedom
A young high fashion photographer!
This incredible garden was built entirely by my parents. The islands of the Bahamas are composed entirely of limestone formed from ancient coral reefs. The soil covering the rock is very shallow, and to build a garden the rock had to be excavated first. This was done entirely by hand using only manual tools.
Decades before the green movement picked up momentum, this garden kept us healthy and well fed year round.
Of course, I did my share of the gardening.
Cruising in Mexico
Beautiful writing. You certainly grew up in an amazing place
I grew up in Colorado on a ranch. It was a pretty isolated childhood, a lot like yours.
i wish one day to have a garden like this.
your life is so interesting
I grew up in Boston, it was a pretty average childhood when I was younger. My parents sent me off to summer camp every year and when I was 14 they sent me to boarding school in Connecticut. That was pretty different living on my own, but I guess these are the things that shape us into who we become
Was your mother a model? She is so beautiful!
Hi Rachel! I don’t believe that she ever modeled, but I agree, she is very beautiful
Nick,
I love the direction you are taking with your blog!
The sharing of your personal experience,history and unique point of view is not only very touching but quite inspirational as well.
Your blog is one of my few must reads.
Cheers
James
Big fan of both your blog and James’s blog.
It’s always neat to learn where people came from.
As for me, I was born in New Jersey and then grew up in Long Island. Went to public school, didn’t get to travel much as a kid.
You write so poetically, please write more.
<3 rl
I added your blog to bookmarks. And i’ll read your articles more often!
Interesting and informative. But will you write about this one more?
This was an amazing post. It is obvious where you got your style. Your parents were incredibly dashing.
I live in Northern California and grew up in Florida so your photos are really poignant to me.
Thank you!
My pleasure! Northern California may just be my favorite place on earth. Can’t wait to get back there in January.
Wonderful Blog!
Do your parents still live there?
I grew up a navy brat so we never lived anywhere longer than about 2years.
My partner and I have lived in Palm Springs about a decade now. The longest time I have lived anyplace.
I too grew up hanging out with older folks. As a result I have been with the same partner 20years who is almost 20years older…well it seems to work!
Thank you for the blogging! Keep it up!!
~ Read
Hi Read! Thanks for stopping by! My parents don’t live there anymore, but it was a great place to grow up.
What part of Eleuthera did you grow up in? I’m guessing it was around Governor’s Harbour.
It was actually quite close to Governor’s Harbour, on the opposite side of the island.
Devon County, England, to long ago for pictures, but the right background to provoke a poor farmer’s lad into studying photography in far away London. I hope my mail reaches you. Thanks for sharing, it’s a wonderful thing to do in these busy times. Bob