The Sun Over Cape Cod…Glint and Glitter!
Late afternoon yet closer to early evening we arrived at Mayflower Beach. The bayside of Cape Cod. Unprepared we were but it didn’t matter. The want? Simple. To see the ocean. I needed to see the ocean…
Officially the summer season was over. I had missed it. I had missed it. Labor Day had come and gone. Yet, the parking lot was still nearly full. Heat and humidity had challenged the date on the calendar. A sampling of beach goers was making their way back to cars parked in a semi organized fashion. Beach chairs moved in opposition to the burdened arms of a tired adult. The rapid shuffle of a child with Crocs unfastened…
Parked near the entrance, we grabbed our blanket. One towel to be shared. We passed the bath house where the day was being washed away at outdoor faucets. Parental directives issued in an attentive fashion…
We made our way down the boardwalk dodging those exiting. Fun replaced by fatigue. Lumbering up the plank with heads held low. Heels misaligned with worn leather flip flops. Water toys and plastic pails spilled out of beach bags. A lagging child breaks the momentum forward…
Remembering, I smiled. A slight downward slope for us. Anxious to arrive I quickly reached the final wooden plank dusted in smooth fine sand. Sinking into the familiar coolness my eyes closed in acknowledgement. Caving delicate grains enveloped one foot and then the other…
The tide was coming in. Slowly. An endless stretch of ocean before me just beyond the vanishing pools of salt water. Families sitting, swimming, and playing in all possible directions. Dogs too. Gulls swooping and squawking. Left or right I asked my husband. Left…
Dune grass swayed in harmony with the gentle late day breeze. A Hopper-esq oceanfront scene tucked in the just beyond. The sun’s glint and glitter bounced with the rhythm of a skipping stone across the wet sand…
Our red plaid wool blanket folded under Jon’s left arm. Bought a lifetime ago. Casually we placed it on the sand. The towel arranged for my head. Supported by the earth I rested…
“She loves the serene brutality of the ocean, loves the electric power she felt with each breath of wet, briny air.” –Holly Black, Ttthe
