Morning breeze making
a fleeting but welcome attempt
to temper the humidity
that envelops our shore.
Heavy dew of a sultry night
evaporating with the rising sun.
An Osprey of almost prehistoric size
circles above, eyeing prey
for her developing brood.
It’s July on Cape Cod,
but only by designation on the calendar.
Simple pleasures of early morning
briefly ease the stress of the larger world.
A tentative world fearful of human contact,
where masks muffle speech and hide smiles.
Where social distancing permeates
our thoughts and actions.
Where spontaneous hugs have vanished
more quickly than the dew.
A week when Hydrangeas reigned in all their glory.
A week when the essence of summer was captured
by ready access to basil leaves outside our door.
A week when a family of swans called our local marsh home.
A week when lights adorned an awning over the deck table
adding a delightful touch of whimsey to summer nights.
A warm week when salads held the most appeal.
A picturesque salad at the Flying Bridge, and the simple delight
of a Caprese salad and crusty bread at home.
A week when Frank’s nemesis, the cute little chipmunk,
kept winning the bird feeder challenge.
A week when Cardinals and Bluejays added
song and fluttering color to our yard.
A week when blooming Dogwood and Daylilies lined the bike path,
and Lacy Hydrangeas began their transformation to July splendor.
A week when the temptation of Flying Bridge’s onion rings
couldn’t be denied, and when Mary’s celestial strawberry cake
captured the season and heralded the 4’th of July!
A week when our world bloomed at every turn.
When daylillies greeted each morning with a trumpet like burst.
A week when the bird feeder became a chipmunk’s snack bar,
thwarting all Frank’s efforts to keep him at bay.
A week when blueberries reached their favor peak,
and my attempt at homemade pita bread was only
a limited success, looking better than it tasted.
A week when social distancing eased enough to allow
for the sweetness of much needed contact,
and local restaurants welcomed us back
to newly configured seating in outdoor spaces.
A week of tentative steps into today’s new normal.
A week when fading Rhodys were replaced by lush impatiens.
and parsley and thyme flourished steps from our kitchen door.
A week when even a plastic plate practiced social distancing.
A week when Linda and Ron’s June garden
sang with the promise of the harvest to come.
A week when Gerry’s gift of a freshly caught bluefish resulted in
Dave “Pops” Masch’s “World’s Best Bluefish Recipe.”
And a week when lobster rolls were on the menu yet again
because, in spite of all that swirls around us, it’s summer after all.
A week when summer arrived
with her friend, Humidity, in tow.
A week when the harbor took on new life
as boats bobbed on their moorings,
and the Chart Room erected tents
for mandated outdoor dining.
A week when beach roses bloomed,
and the natural beauty around us
seemed at odds with our troubled world.
A week when the gift of a puzzle provided me
with a new form of recreation and relaxation.
And a week when an attempt to recreate
a restaurant dish was a happy success.
Spicy calamari and shrimp over pasta
is now on our home menu.
Just a little story of personal service in the impersonal world of ordering online.
Yesterday, I ordered a gift from Captain Mowatt’s, a company based in Portland Maine that is justly famous for their various hot sauces. www.captainmowatts.com
I’ve ordered from them before and have been delighted by their products and quick service.
But yesterday, I was interested in a small crate of four bottles of sauce that I wanted sent as a gift. They have such a crate in their catalogue with pre-selected sauces. I wanted to select my own. This involved an email to see if that would be possible.
Nate replied very quickly that it was absolutely possible and explained how I could go about doing that. It was simple enough, but I tend to be a bit challenged when it comes to anything other than emailing or blogging, and I couldn’t figure it out.
Not wanting to bother him again ( and appear as deficient as I truly was!) I simply ordered the four sauces separately without the crate. But the story doesn’t end there. Nate saw my order come through. He took it upon himself to package the four sauces in the gift crate and shipped it without charging the extra that the crate entailed.
He sent me an email explaining what he had done, hoping that it was okay.
It was much better than just okay. It was a kind gesture that made my day, and a wonderful example of great customer service.
A week when a stump became a rustic planter.
A week when Rhodys burst into brilliant boom,
and Impatiens filled planters with the promise
of a season of lushness and color to come.
A week when a broccoli-rabe white pizza
brought a West Haven memory home.
A week when a ceramic heart, tinged with nostalgia,
assumed its position on the wall of the deck.
Dew kissed color at every turn.
It’s early morning in Rhodyville.
Neighborhood bushes lush with blossoms.
Each home offering its gift to unite us
into one beautiful whole.
new yellow in town
forsythias have faded
pollen coats the land