Thursday, July 16, 2009

Not So Far-Sighted

Photo Credit: Dad

Two weeks from tonight I will be on a plane to Boston. And in Boston I will pick up a car and I will drive to a small town past Falmouth, past Hyannis, past Chatham. I will drive on highways and state roads until a rotary. My turn off the roundabout, in what will now be the middle of the night, is an overglorified running path that rolls past a harbor and over a bridge and some wetlands.

After passing tiny streets like "Widgeon" and "Governor Prence," I will see a small mailbox and a post that no one else notices and it will look like I'm turning straight into the woods. My windows will be down and it will smell like bayberry and pine needles and juniper and the tide. It will be very dark but at the top of a graveled hill there will be lights through some spindly trees. The light will reflect a bit on glossy black shutters only to be absorbed by weathered cedar shingles covering the house. Once the car is parked, I'll go into the house and find my mom with a glass of wine in the kitchen. This is the only night we'll overlap and time is limited for her to pass the torch and the keys and small reminders about the washing of sand off of feet.

In two weeks I am taking the longest vacation of my post-college life. For nine days, a revolving door of favorite folks will be in and out of my favorite place and I will be sharing it with several of them for the first time. And for my part, I will be there long enough to try some new things and new towns while still making time for mini-golf.

Sun and clamrolls and sand bars and beach bars and boats. Mornings and galleries and bike rides and porches that watch the sun set on the water every night. This is not the Cape of Kennedys. This is further out, past the breakers, past the hoopla and past the streetlights.

I will focus now. I can do that. I know enough about salt tightening the skin on my shins and sunhats and whaletails to know that what's waiting is worth the work preceding it. I have to earn my ice cream cones.

8 comments:

ANG* said...

beautifully written my dear. i can feel the anticipation, sand between my toes and sun on my face, which sounds just perfect.

kat said...

I'm missing the New England coast so hard right now. Have a lovely time, and please eat (and post a photo of) a lobster roll, if you would.

TKTC said...

ANG: Thanks- I'm ready to bike to the beach as soon as it's light out and just sit.

Kat: Road trip? 5 hours. You think I'm kidding but we have space if you kids want to get crazy and come up for Aug 1-2...

Laurel Smoke said...

Sounds like heaven!!!

Audrey said...

I'm doing the exact same thing, on the exact same day! Flying to Boston on the 31st and renting a house with friends in Chatham for most of that week. Clearly, we are on the same wavelength... I'd love to see you, if we can make it happen.

TKTC said...

Laurel: Thanks!!

Audrey: Seriously?! I'm in Chatham a LOT and would LOVE that. I have the most visitors on the weekends but between Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday it's just me and Jason. Either way, see you at the squire...I'm sending you my cell phone number!

Audrey said...

Absolutely, and the squire is on our list of places. We looove that spot. Friends will be with us Sat- Mon or Tues. Then Matt and I will be there til Wed night. Such a great coincidence. Send me you number!

Wit said...

Absolutely lovely post, you are quite the writer! Also loved your prior post about visiting your family sounds like the perfect get-a-way!