Ready or not, it’s over.
One of the things I did right this summer was create a work schedule that allowed me to spend some time with friends at the Islesford Sand Beach when I was on the island and the weather cooperated. I managed to get a lot of my studio work done in the mornings and later at night. I stopped worrying about tending to my garden when an overwhelming population of devil mosquitoes drove me away. Somehow, the mosquitoes were never bad at the beach. I took part in this favorite summer activity whenever I could.
The weather was particularly nice this summer, giving me the opportunity to actually use up a whole bottle of sunscreen and go through more than half of another. The sparkling light on the water, swimming in a cold ocean, the concern and laughter of good friends, and watching the comings and goings of an active harbor are the memories I will evoke by using that same bottle of sunscreen as a moisturizer this winter. Coppertone is exactly the aromatherapy I use in January and February to feel the smile of a summer day as I board a cold mail boat from icy steps in a stiff northwest wind.
On a hot afternoon in mid-August, some of us at the beach commented on how many activities were scheduled at the Neighborhood House in a rather short period of time. The Masquerade Ball, Wits and Nitwits, the Islesford Fair, Cranberry Fest; why not spread them out a little more? And then the talk began about schools that started well before Labor Day, and the children who were headed to college for the first time. There was a need to get home in time to do some back-to-school shopping. Across the line of damp towels at the beach, departure dates were spoken aloud. “Next Monday.” “We’re going Saturday morning.” “We’re leaving tomorrow but we’ll be back for Labor Day weekend to close up the house.” Summer was starting to end before it was finished.
Each September I swing between feeling very ready for fall to arrive and not wanting the summer to end. I have encountered too many groups of people who think the island roads and docks are merely wide sidewalks, meant solely for pedestrians. (Is it too much to ask that these groups just take up half of the space as they wander agog?) I am more than ready for the road-wide wenders to go home so I can once again make my way down an island street without feeling road rage. I am exhausted by the glut of July and August social events. I can’t wait for quiet nights eating dinner, Ã deux, in our own house. And yet, after just a few nights of peace and quiet, I wish I had the option to walk down the road to the Islesford Dock Restaurant to see it once again open and crowded with people. It doesn’t seem like that long ago we were just headed that way for opening night at the end of June. The break that I want from a mail boat crowded with people and stacks of UPS packages comes abruptly on Labor Day, along with a change in the schedule that means fewer daily runs until the end of next June.
I’m pretty sure some fall cleaning would be a good antidote to my annual malaise. I wonder why I’ve never tried it before? It makes more sense to get the house spiffed up when I’m going to be spending more time there than to clean it just before I begin a summer of beach visits and dining out. I have less enthusiasm for the beach now that the weather is cooler, but having learned to make time for it I could substitute the activity with reorganizing a closet or a cupboard. I could throw out the jams and jellies with a 2007 date and make room for the jars of this year’s jam that are sitting in a box in the basement. The only thing more satisfying than hearing the snap of a jar lid as it seals itself could be having an organized cupboard with current jars of currant jelly.
Bruce told me recently that our vegetable garden “looks like a hayfield.” Well, yes, it does. Along with the weeds are some zucchinis, parsley, basil and tomatoes. Mosquitoes or no, I could go in and start clearing out the weeds and enjoy what is still there. I could start to get it ready for the bed of seaweed I plan to cover it with later this fall. Trading beach time for garden time will still get me outside to soak up some Vitamin D.
The transition from summer to fall in the Cranberry Isles creates such a mixture of strong emotions for me that I have the urge, every year, to find a way to describe it. I think if I could just capture my feelings on paper, I could find a way to effectively deal with them. I might just have to accept that I am likely to experience two weeks of feeling unmoored before I can embrace the beauty, calm and focused industriousness that I celebrate every fall. As Robert Frost said in his poem, A Servant to Servants, “the best way out is always through.” I think it is in my nature to feel a little cuckoo at this time of year, and I know it is in my nature to get through it and feel great when the transition is complete. q
-Islesford, September 8