A Month Away
Well, I haven’t spent a month ‘away’ since college-and this year we actually did it! I’m not exactly sure what we were getting ‘away’ from-maybe from a feeling that we couldn’t do it. It is that gravity again that holds us in place-the familiarity-the convenience of your own place-your own sock drawer-knowing where things can be found in ‘your’ supermarket. Home holds all of the conveniences. You know right where the oregano is-and the tea bags-and the aluminum foil.
When we have traveled in the past-for a short break from the cold-I found myself ready to head home after about five days - ‘OK, I’ve had enough!’-so this has surely been an experiment-walking down a main street where nobody knows your name-trying to feel at home while far away-living with someone else’s pots and pans and silverware.
Surely this has been a treat, a gift, an indulgence. I have listened to my retired friends talk about their winter get-a-ways and wondered if I might be able to handle it-the true ‘Local Girl’. I didn’t want to miss any major snowstorms or Sag Harbor happenings-so we headed to Amelia Island, near the Florida-Georgia border, for the month of March. Folks next to us in a restaurant one evening suggested if we were new to the area to please not tell anyone else about it. Green and lush and beautiful! The sun rising over the ocean every morning and a nearby village reminiscent of our beautiful Sag Harbor. Sightings of armadillos, gopher tortoises, black racer snakes, marsh rabbits, dolphins, falcons and a host of shore birds were surprise gifts each morning.
The weather of course was unpredictable-with rainy days, squalls blowing in and even an occasional tornado watch. The sky was filled with remarkable cloud formations, sunrise and sunset pallets, and a chance rainbow or two. It was thrilling to watch ominous storms arrive and shadow the sunny, blue skyline-dark silhouettes of palm trees against the everchanging firmament. The Marshside was filled with a sleepy set of rarely visited shorebirds. This place of new experiences suddenly did not seem foreign or remote-but just a beautiful sliver of our one amazing planet.
Thankfully, I did not miss any major snowstorms, but I did miss the first song of the peepers, the arrival of the crocuses, and I’m not sure, but perhaps the emergence of the new daffodil bulbs we had planted. I did miss my morning walks down the wharf, my backyard bird family, my utensil drawer and of course my friends and family. Somehow spring and summer seem more like heaven if you have endured the cold, harsh winter.
Someone once said that ‘coming home’ was the best part of any vacation. Halfway through the month I started counting how many days until I returned. And yet I have to say that I am very grateful for the opportunity to experience and be a part of another beautiful corner of the world. It’s just simply the call of home.