Ocean Air

I awoke alone as Jase had long since left for the jobsite, but lay there listening to the silence of a different house. The coffee was still warm as I padded from one window to the next, taking in the morning sun and crystal sky, waiting for voices that never spoke...truly alone.

I wrote. I read. I turned the radio up and sang at the top of my lungs.

Jase came home and we took off to tour the western end of the island. Cisco Brewery was delicious (a gin cocktail with rosemary and lemon) and Bartlette's Farm held a cheese rack that made my heart beat faster. A loaf of bread threaded with whole cloves of roasted garlic and a wedge of Kal Tbach Cremeauh (no, I don't know how to pronounce that, but it's a nutty fabulous cheese from Switzerland) tucked into the paper bag along with fresh blueberries and potatoes to roast tomorrow, we trundled down dirt roads that turned into sandy paths and wound up here....

   

 

I picked up shells and shoved them into my pockets, now filled with sand and pebbled stones. We sat on a concrete bench and the wind smelled of brine and salt and suddenly there were tears smearing my mascara down my cheeks. It was like I could breathe again although I'm not sure I was ever really aware of how shallow I was breathing before. Jase wrapped his arm around me and we just listened to the surf while the knots in my chest unraveled.

We got back in the truck, ate cheese and bread and listened to Dave Matthews. Thank you, Nantucket, for ocean air.