It’s Saturday. Time to Celebrate This Week. Come join the celebration with Ruth Ayres here .
Today I celebrate my happy place. I celebrate that it exists, that I am lucky enough to visit it each summer, that my family has saved carefully to preserve it and maintain it, that my daughters love it as much as I do and my mother does, and her mother did, that it has withstood time and hurricanes and still stands on the hill above the quiet bay.
The sights from my seat on the porch: sunlight stars dancing on the water, rocks and seaweed at the edge of gentle lapping waves, boats moored in the bay, children splashing in the water, Ailanthus trees swaying in the breeze, dog fur swirling on the painted wood floor as the wind makes it way through the screens, towels slung over the line, sand beginning to collect in the spot where we rinse our feet each day, an occasional kayaker, steady walkers, boats being wheeled towards the crane dock by eager racers, the flag waving on the pole at the tiny sailing club my grandfather helped to build.
The sounds from my seat on the porch: Laughter and snippets of conversation drifting up the hill from the sunbathers and children on the beach below, clinking halyards and ruffling sails, the soft hum of the leaves on the old chestnut and copper beach trees and the rhythmic swoosh of small waves coming ashore, the putter of an old fishing boat coughing to life, the intermittent horn from the race committee boat, sending signals I do not understand to sailors anxious to start the race, the slap-slap of flip flops heading down the path in front of the house, a wind chime, the dogs’ sighs, the screen door banging shut as happy children come and go from the house and the reliable tune of the ice cream truck as it slowly wanders through the neighborhood.
The smells from my seat on the porch: Salty air, damp dogs, old wood, morning coffee, sunscreen, just cut grass.
How lucky I am to have a happy place. I hope you have one too.