We should all have such problems!
Everyone left this morning to go find Charlie a cell phone. His broke while on-island, and because he gets something in his head and won't let it go, he has been talking about his new cell phone for weeks. I hope he comes home with something, because I am most interested to see what he will focus on next. Hopefully it will be the nice thick book he has to read for school.
So, here I sit, surrounded by silence and dogs. Heaven.
But I miss the island too. Waking up early and trying not to creak the floors as I put on my sneakers and tip toe outside into a new day. Breathing in the salt air as I approach the bluff on the East Chop road, and gaze out at the shimmering ocean. A sailboat catches some wind and leans over and in the distance a ferry rounds the corner. The sea gulls squawk overhead and it is not long before a runner passes me by, soon followed by a child on a bike, wobbling and sure to get hit by a car it seems, then along comes the harried mother. I have been there. I am not there now.
A bike ride in the morning, the laptop in the backpack on my back, as I ride to another town where I can get a cup of iced chai and free wi-fi! Wa hooo! I feel so, so what? I don't know, just like I am someone else as I sit in the window seat with my laptop and catch up on email and watch people pass by on the sidewalk. I like it because it is new to me. It is fun. I am alone too! No one asking what are we going to do. Just being.
Floating in the ocean, my toes stuck up out of the water, the sky blue overhead. No sound as I duck my ears below water, then a cacophony of sound as I return to the "real" world.
Driving in the jeep up-island, cruising below a canopy of trees. I could drive forever.
Each year it always amazes me how a Vineyard get-away is so much different from those before. Of course it depends on which town you stay in, because things will definitely be focused there. But even the activities themselves always seem to change.
This year I saw three movies, last year not one. This year I ate out, in an actual restaurant, for dinner, twice. In two weeks! I did eat breakfast out five times, two at Linda Jeans, two at Biscuits and once at The Right Fork in Katama. I did not eat one ice cream nor did I have one bit of Murdich's fudge. Those two things alone mark history! I did, however, have Chilmark Chocolates and several chocolate martinis. One night I even found myself, after said martinis, in a karaoke bar singing. Twice. Once I sang alone, the second with my sister. My brother "filmed" us with his phone, and I watched in horror the following morning. Quite frankly, those phones can't catch sound for nothing. He erased them, so no youtube showings will ensue. Sorry.
Lethal chocolate martinis ceased after that. But nighttime trips into town did not. We would walk the short distance from the cottage to town, squinting our eyes in the darkness to determine if that movement over there was a skunk. It usually was. And that one. And that one too. Where do all the skunks come from? Then we would reach the sidewalk where all the boats were backed into their slips for the night, and we would all sneak glances at these people, who sit out in public and do their thing. Like eat ridiculously formal dinners within about two feet of people walking by on the sidewalk, and maybe 12 feet from the road. Weird. Talk about a fish bowl! If you got up early in the morning and walked the same walk, instead of seeing people talking, laughing and drinking, you could examine the remains of a rough night strewn across the boat for all to see, generally spotting a passed out person somewhere within the mix. Lovely.
While Oak Bluffs is a fun town and the honky tonk is fine, I must admit by the final night I was done. Some motorcycle thing was happening, and the town was full of those people who dress like thugs and climb upon their bikes and their bitches climb behind them and they roar off about 30 feet then brake for traffic. Good lord. Talk about the opposite of the open road! And the noise! No wonder it seems uber quiet here!
It was a Friday night and you could see so many fresh faces that had pored into town that night, ready for chocolate martinis and karaoke. Whereas myself was more tuned into the thought of a light dinner and maybe curling up in bed to read before sleep! Ahhh, how much changes in a few weeks. Everything. Nothing.
Charlie and I took a long walk on the beach at Gay Head one day, and when we reached the nude part, I was amazed at how many more there were than in years prior. In all of the bodies that were walking about or laid out on the sand, there was only ONE, one! that was beautiful. The rest were downright begging for clothes. What I find so interesting is that the good majority of these people are exhibitionists -- shedding their clothing and then walking toward you in a show of "I am naked and you are not and therefore that makes me something you are not." Yes, that is true. It makes me clothed. Hallelulah! Try to picture a male walking in such a manner to stick out his penis. It is hard to imagine, but that is what they do. Try to imagine me seeking eye time in any portion of the span before me BUT that ugly thing!
Why walk this beach at all? Because it is beautiful. It is clay cliffs and it is where I find the rocks that I have everywhere at home. And perhaps next year I won't after seeing so much of that that should be clothed being shoved into my face. I don't think Charlie minded. Cheaper than buying PlayBoy I guess. And far more realistic.
Okay, my reverie has been brought to a close by the arrival of family. So soon! :::::::sigh:::::::::
I did not take one picture or blog once.
I was on vacation!
No comments:
Post a Comment