Sunday, March 13, 2011

16W? Do I need to get on 28? 3? 6? 6A? No. 93?!

There were signs everywhere but I couldn't find a single one. Sandwich. The picturesque little town on the coast of Massachusetts. No edible sandwich could compare to what lay before us today; a visual feast, a delight to our senses and yearning for freedom—an appetite no two pieces of bread and filling could ever sate.

Ciera and I had woken up and found ourselves in that weird space known as Daylight Savings—also known as, “it doesn't feel like 11 am.” To make the most of our day we hurried off to the car that Claire had so generously lent us for the week and drove to Cape Cod. After spending a while in the stark landscape of Sandy Neck in spring, we made our way to Sandwich.

The Cape is adorable, a doll's house model of the little American lifestyle. Beaches and marshland give way to thick forests and provincial towns. It was as if they were towns on a model train kit. I felt I could pick them up and examine them close to my face.

Sandwich was our model town for the day. A church built in 1638, a mill pond, cobblestone crosswalks, adorable young babies, and cute dogs. Pleasantville does exist.

I never knew what people meant when they said they were going antiquing. Now I know. If it wasn't a cute little bed and breakfast, it was definitely an antique store. Or a church. There are tons of churches in New England. The Protestants really must have had a work ethic to build that many churches; and then attend mass every Sunday. It was quiet today.

It was New England in March—50, windy, and partly cloudy. But it was so much more. Every color burst today. It was a day to remember forever. The chill air makes the sky bluer, the clouds whiter, the sand more perfect, the grass more golden, and the still hibernating trees more brown. The energy bursting forth from the dormant nature was almost tangible. Spring will be here in a matter of weeks, pushing gently out of the frigid winter to remind me that graduation is only a short spring forward away. I know that as easily as I was caught off guard by the loss of an hour today, I will be tackled by the disappearance of the remaining two months.

I better not sleep in.