A Crescent Beach Kind of Day

Tuesday was a “call in sick” kind of day, if one was a “call in sick” kind of person.  It was “absolutely August.”  Any more “quote mark” expressions?

I didn’t call in sick, but I took an afternoon break at 4:30 p.m. and wandered out in the garden with no particular purpose.  Glorious and yet melancholy because, after all, August is turning the corner.  The crickets know it.  The plants know it, as they give their last bits of energy to ripen a tomato or unfurl a sunflower.  Fibonacci rules!

Uncle Bob knows it, too, as he pulls out the last row of cucumbers.

Yesterday, my thoughts drifted back to a quarter of a century past.  How odd it is to so clearly remember being 25 years younger than I am today.  Who wouldn’t feel melancholy thinking thoughts of such a seemingly innocent time.

I didn’t really have that “20-something” look in my twenties.  I wore my hair short.  Egads, it was ugly.  What was I thinking?  My ex-husband always said “you look so professional.” Sometimes, I wore crystal earrings, according to the color of my best chakra.  Did I have some NAOT sandals?  No! I did naot.

Tennis shoes, always tennis shoes.

I was addicted to the sun, too.  Every Saturday and Sunday, I’d jump into my little silver Fiero and head over to Crescent Beach in Cape Elizabeth.  When I took a summer vacation, I’d spend each day at the beach.

Like small, local coffee shops, beaches have a regular clientele and Crescent Beach was no different.  Each sunny summer morning I’d see “Stan” and “Charlie.”  They were “beach friends,” both retired and widowed.  I don’t think they hung out away from the beach, but who really knows.  They each had their own section of the sand and they’d set up camp for the day and then spend the morning sunning, talking, and walking on the beach.  Sometimes they’d swim.  There were other retired folks who camped on the beach, but Stan and Charlie were special.  They were my summer grandpa’s.

Charlie had started painting in his retirement.

Charlie's PaintingI’ll never forget them.

I was their sunshineThere were other characters on the beach in summer of my youth, but it would take more time than I have this morning to tell you that story.  Remind me to tell you about it sometime and I’ll leave you with a teaser sneak-peak:

Turkey Ptomaine.

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