In about a month I’m heading back to Cape Cod for a glorious week. I’m stopping off in Boston for two days to see Exa, and then I’m off on the ferry for some good old adventure in a beautiful place!
People think Cape Cod and think polos, boats, gin, beaches, stripes and polka-dots, old money, nice cars, proper WASP breeding.
I think when my family arrives we sort of are the antithesis of this. We get a rental car at Logan, dress in whatever we bring from Montana, and show up to our little bungalow with questionable electric wiring. The yard is covered in pine needles. There’s not a dishwasher or a dryer so we hang out clothes in the backyard, where it takes over 24 hours for things to dry because of how humid it is.
We take outdoor showers at night while moths crowd the porch light. Soft moss grows in the patio cracks. The beach is a short walk away and sand is in the cracks in the house. The first time you slip into bed the sheets almost feel damp and you think, “I’m back.” It’s very different from Montana. People aren’t as friendly or open. The smells are all different- salt, sand, and greenery all inhabit your nostrils. Rain patters at night, and the mornings are chilled.
I like going in May when people haven’t arrived yet, when the beaches aren’t crowded, and when the baby plovers run in and out of the beach scrub early in the morning.