Tag: Sunday

Walking. On Fantasy Island & Back.

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“So, have you had COVID?” asked Doc. “No.” And I felt obliged to explain as he stared me down: “Work from Home, hang near / at Home, Life in its totality within a 25-mile Protected radius around Home, a self-quarantining since the onset of COVID — has increased, if not assured this outcome.” His eye brows lift again, as I close with… “And I like it, all of it.”

So, with that preamble, you can understand the State of my State, stomach doing loops, as the mind and body prepare for an exit of the Protected Zone, the two former exits tied to Rachel’s wedding prep (Sept 2021), Rachel’s Wedding (Oct 2022) and then again this month (Sept 2023) in a decision made in 24 hours to Let’s Go!. Synchronicity?

A 3.5 hour car ride, a 1-hour ferry ride, Wally in tow, we arrive in Nantucket. Mr. Roarke: My dear guests! I Welcome you to Fantasy Island!

In my October 2021 post Walking. Great Point & Hallowed Ground, I reflect on my first trip to Nantucket, I close with a quote from Richard Powers: “I feel like I belong here… There we were. Nothing. Everything.” And as I re-read that post, and reflect on this trip, not much as changed.

Susan: “Think we could live here?”

DK: “I don’t know.”

Continue reading “Walking. On Fantasy Island & Back.” →

Saturday Morning (Mostly right…)

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He is talking about weekends. He describes, lingeringly, the Saturday Morning lie-in. Drowsing, love-making, breakfast in bed. Up, finally, for a coffee and a leaf through the papers. A long bath. Then choices, choices: shopping, a long walk, a late lunch? An afternoon movie, an art gallery? More sleep? A haircut, a trip to the gym. Read a novel. Dinner with friends, the opera, a party. Sunday morning, more of the same.

— Rachel Cusk, A Life’s Work: On Becoming a Mother (Picador, February 17, 2015)

Photo: Wally this morning, joining me in the Saturday Morning lie-In.

Walking. Finding Sacrosanct.

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Canada Geese are said to mate for life. Of course, I didn’t know this but I googled it 2 years ago when I tripped into a need to know. Sawsan, of course, would have known this, and all things about why the earth turns this way and that, and would have told me so, as the knower of all things that I, DK, don’t know. Irritating? Mildly. But like that growth on the instep of your foot — think “One of these things is not like the others, one of these things doesn’t belong here” (Sesame Street) — its become part of you, and you get used to it in time by walking on it.

So here we are, on my 1,195th consecutive (almost) daybreak walk at Cove Island Park — like in a row . Minutes after my weather app said the rain would stop, it stopped. “Precipitation will end at 5:04 a.m.” And damn if it didn’t end at 5:04 a.m. I’m clearly not paying enough for this app, for the 1 in 10x it gets it right.

The heavy rains overnight have made the track muddy, and i’m stepping around the puddles I can see, and splashing through those that I don’t, some ankle deep, with the excess being sopped up by my socks.

Continue reading “Walking. Finding Sacrosanct.” →

Walking. Touched by a Terrapin.

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Here we go. 1,153 consecutive (almost) days on this daybreak walk at Cove Island Park. Like in a row.

I’m off.

71° F. Humidity? One billion % and climbing.

Mimi, in her FB comment: A brooding kind of beauty —  and even the birds are holding court in silence.”

And they were silent. A Great Blue Heron. A pair of egrets. A Yellow-Crowned Night Heron.  Gulls, and their wings.

Just another morning at Cove Island Park.

I walk.

But, the Mind isn’t here this morning. Yes, it’s certainly here at Cove Island Park, but meaning not Here, and Now.

It drifts back 10 days or so. I’m at the end of my walk and there under the bench sits a Diamondback Terrapin turtle. No, I didn’t have a clue it was a Diamond Terrapin Turtle, Google Lens did though: “The Northern diamondback terrapin is the only species of turtle in North America, including Connecticut, that spends its life in brackish water…and they are most abundant in tidal estuaries west of the Connecticut River.”

Like who knew? Most abundant in tidal estuaries in Connecticut. Brackish water. This sticks.

I’m staring at this creature, at the intricate designs of its shell, and wonder what he’s doing so far away from brackish water.  “Injured? Lost? Resting? Kid dragged you from the water, and had a little fun with you.” Not sure why that last disturbing thought crossed my mind, no, please, not that. Continue reading “Walking. Touched by a Terrapin.” →

Easter Sunday

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Biggest crowd at Cove Island Park that I’ve seen in 1069 consecutive (almost) days of my morning walks. Like in a row. More photos from this morning’s walk here.