Cape cod is my new destination. I’m trying to imagine the beach, the figures in the early morning leaning against buildings in town as I make my way to get morning coffee. How will I know which cafe will stay option all year? Which will welcome my laptop, my need for quiet and company? The winter light, the early morning misty pink sunrises and the dark heavy red sunsets, the golden hour of late afternoon which has the painterly light sought by so many. The dunes, the beach rugosa, the winding paths through the salt flats. I last lived there in 87. Nearly a quarter century ago. I’m no longer that skinny bewildered girl hidden by a mass of hair.
I’ll get a puppy. I might get a kitten. I will leave behind all my furniture, take my books and clothes and pots and pans and start again. At fifty, I’ll start again, near the water at first light.