31 August 2010

To the Sea

I just returned from a much needed mini break with the girls on Block Island (off the coast of Rhode Island). As you dear readers know, I am quite fond of the sea and often lament the fact that I do not live near the water (no, the Hudson River does not count). So when I stepped aboard the ferry to take me out to the island, I felt an instant sense of happiness rush over me.

We stayed at the historic Atlantic Inn (quaint Victorian styled rooms), which sits upon a hill near the Old Harbor. Evenings were spent sipping cocktails on the veranda (one night a group of women burst into a rendition of "Hello Dolly") while morning coffee was had out in the Adirondack chairs on the hotel's sloping lawn. 

Our view from the hotel included a small farm that houses an eclectic collection of animals, including two camels. The first evening on the island, the girls thought I had indulged in one too many cocktails when I blurted out "there's a camel" until they too saw the animal walking slowly around its enclosure. 

During the day, we explored the downtown area with its picture perfect 19th-century houses and lovely gardens filled with wild roses and butterfly bushes. 

On one particular walk, we stumbled upon a cottage that was for sale. It was cute but it was the surrounding yard that made me fall in love with the place. The moss covered rocks and low swooping trees immediately conjured up images of sitting beneath its branches while listening to the sounds of the pond beyond.

We also ventured out to the Mohegan Bluffs to see the Southeast Lighthouse and the incredible views. The sites were so breathtaking, I forgot to take a photo of the lighthouse. A twisting set of stairs led down to the rocky beach below.

One morning, the girls bicycled off to see the North Lighthouse while I stayed behind to loll on the veranda and finish a mystery (The Blackest Bird). I know I missed another beautiful view but a few hours spent with a book with the sea breeze hitting my face was well worth it.

The highlight of the trip though was the beach. Walking along the shoreline, I took my time picking up small rocks and the occasional piece of sea glass for mementos. Standing on the sand while the water rushed up and ran over my bare feet and legs or running straight toward the waves was pure bliss. I could do this everyday.

Back in New York, I am dreaming of the ebb and flow of the water and the sound of the crashing waves. I am counting the days until my next visit to the sea.

Photos by Michele.

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