Afternoon Lull

The weather turned yesterday. Late afternoon. High winds throughout the day blew the humidity and bugs away. Today is glorious. The next nine days expect to be glorious. I'm going home tomorrow. Stretched it as far as I can. It's the Alanis Morisette kind of ironic, which is not actually ironic at all. 

I'll have a day at home to get ready for Charlie's and my jaunt to New Haven on Monday and Tuesday. Not much to do. Pack an overnight bag and go. Of course, there's the mail that's come in while I've been away, watering the plants, and little things like that to handle but even all that can wait another couple of days.

Michael Hedges, Aerial Boundaries, plays in the afternoon lull. I'm munching on some nuts and sipping water. The sunlight has moved to the other side of the house. The light is soft here in the room where I type. A sea breeze blows gently through open windows. Cicadas begin their evening songs. 

Sitting on the beach today, I remembered a family trip here in 1978. We rented a house a block from the beach, in town, for a month. Dad came up on the weekends. My grandparents came down for part of the trip. I worked at the pizza parlor on the small main street for spending money. Spent the days on the beach, the early evening carrying pizza and soda to tables, and the best part of the night with friends, usually on the small boardwalk in town. When we went back home, I started my senior year. I was 16.

The town is much the same today as it was then. Maybe a little busier. They call the Delaware beaches The Quiet Resorts. Or used to. Not sure I paid attention to the signs on this trip. The coastal highway through Rehoboth Beach is more built up than it used to be. The town still has it's quiet character. Someone is building loads of housing for retirees, especially around Bethany Beach. Dewey is Dewey. So far, this stretch of sand and marsh has been able to avoid the development you see at the Jersey Shore and the high rises of Ocean City, Maryland. 

I'm thinking about the evening. Whether I really want to cook tonight, or have one more dinner out at Matt's Fish Camp. There are lots of other places I could go, but Matt's is just so darn easy. Close. Relaxed. And when you come out after a good meal, the sun is setting right in front of you.

The Green Wilderness is a daily writing practice that opens a landscape of discovery into my own human experience. 

Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life.