a year of Cape Cod
Before Ian's parents and grandma moved to Cape Cod last October, we'd made just a few short trips to the Cape and islands, and had the general impression it was a fancy place full of wealthy people and summer tourists, with unbearable summer weekend traffic. While that perception isn't entirely off the mark (their cozy home is a short drive away from the expansive Kennedy compound), we discovered it is so much more.
Given the timing of their move, we experienced the off season first. I've been enamored with the image of the beach in winter ever since I read Hattie and the Wild Waves when I was little. It was so lovely to spend Thanksgiving and a belated Christmas strolling on the beach, with a roaring fire waiting for our return. The ocean was expansive and beautiful, and we had it all to ourselves. One of their amazing neighbors took us oystering and clamming, and we felt like locals in our waders, clam rakes slung over our shoulders, filling up wire baskets then slurping down oysters with homemade hot sauce, the smell of ocean filling all our senses.
And then summer came. After our eternal Narnian winter, I didn't care how bad the traffic was, as long as we could soak in the hot summer sun, feel sand between our toes, and eat all the ice cream we wanted (Grandma Judy is a connoisseur, and her favorite is Katie's). It was glorious.
While we'll miss the sunshine and ice cream, we're looking forward to once again bundling up and enjoying quiet winter weekends on the Cape, watching the wild waves. You can call me Hattie.
See more of our Cape Cod photos on Flickr.