I never really liked Sherwood Island. It was quite close to the house I grew up in but it was bland, just a summer stop for people from out of state who never knew - or cared - that other, infinitely better state parks awaited them further east.
I didn't know anyone else who liked Sherwood Island either; in Westport you went to Compo Beach if you wanted to be seen, and Burying Hill if you didn't.
What it lacks in distinguishing features, though, Sherwood Island makes up for in historical significance. It is called Connecticut's first, or oldest, state park. The story
of how it came to be is worth reading, and the fact that the state was ever able to wrest the land from private owners is rather mind-boggling these days.
Soon the little house I grew up in will be razed and probably replaced with a McMansion and I will rarely have reason to come back to this town.
So the last images of Westport on this blog may be Sherwood Island on a snowy day.
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