I took this picture on the bicycle sailing down the tree covered one lane road in the afternoon – balancing on a loose seat with my phone in my left hand. I love how the trees are overgrown – that they form this low canopy over the road that the sun only plays tag with the pavement in an attempt to shine through the thick summer foliage. When I’m here on my secret favorite place on earth island I wish I could stay forever. Seven days is enough in that I miss home- my own bed- the ease of having everything I need at my fingertips – the good and bad of city life. On the eve before my departure, the lump starts in my throat that tonight is the last night here for one year’s time. I dread the morning – my last step on the sand before packing up and heading home – watching my kids say goodbye to their island.
This year I’m tempted. I tell my husband to sell everything and let’s stay this time. I really mean it. He asked me earlier today what I’d do here. I would sleep later – not driven by an alarm clock but by morning light rising over the water and we’d walk on the beach together before starting the day. We’d have a house full of shells and sand always in some corner that I wouldn’t care about but acquiesce to coexist. I’d take to hanging laundry on a line and never blow drying my hair. I’d forever forego makeup and ironed clothing. There’d be a basket full of sunglasses and sunscreen by the front door. We’d have bonfires on the weekends and s’mores always on hand. I’d start a sea glass collection and I’d teach the children on the island. I’d bring organic soil and grow a garden of vegetables. I’d draw and paint and take pictures of the ever changing tide. The skies are bluer here and I think the days would stretch longer on this tiny strip of land. I’d ride my bike to the north end and watch the sun set in red where the only bit of road is bordered by a sliver where the sun woke up and I’d teeter on the tip as it slides to the west. I’d sew and read and savor life more. I’d let my driver’s license lapse, never carry keys, nor lock doors. I’d relish in the times with my kids; sitting in the sand watching their tan bodies roam in our new home. What a dream it’d be if my journey was on the way to this unknown life like my bike on this shaded path.