It’s been a year and a half since I’ve gone anywhere out of my home state. My son was recently transferred to Cape Cod, Massachusetts for work, a great place for a visit. Unlike the tourist travel I have usually done, this journey would be a relaxing one, exploring little towns, walking the beaches, and eating seafood.
I stayed at a friend’s house in Yarmouth Port for the first part of the trip. If one envisions the map of Cape Cod as a flexed arm, the town would be close to where the biceps bulge. Although the house is tucked into a deciduous forest, not many trees were wearing autumn colors yet. The cape was still draped in green with just a splash of color here and there. The morning sun shone through the cemetery across the street and lit up the pond a short stroll away.
My son and his wife dropped me off by a rental car place in Hyannis, directly to the south, the largest town on the cape, on the Nantucket Sound side. It was a bit early for my appointed pick-up time, so I took a walk around residential streets. Weathered shingles defined many of the houses.
It was difficult to find a place to park among the large sprawling homes fronting private beaches. The waves beckoned, the smell of salt air, the rhythmic gentle splash of waves. Although signs warned against doing so, I pulled in to a parking area designated Residents Only and hopped out to breathe in the aroma and take a few quick photos. Continuing on around the shoreline, a public beach finally appeared, with free parking, at least at this time of year. October is a shoulder season; the summer dwellers are mostly gone; many shops and restaurants are closed. One of my favorite pastimes, when I have the opportunity, is walking along the beach, feeling the sand softly scrunch sculpting to the shape of my feet, making tracks on the wet sand, marking the ebb and flow of the water and crest of the waves.
On the way back to the Yarmouth house through Barnstable