The Last Day of Summer

Summer. A season when the heat addles the mind, convinces you to take an extra step to soak up UV rays and skimpy dressing is acceptable. It is difficult writing in this entry, because this summer has been particularly sweet and I am sad to see it end. But like it says in Ecclesiastes....

For the official last day of summer I went to the beach with G and A. The day had the right feel. The morning was cool, perhaps a hint of Autumn, as I walked down to school adorned in a white hoodie, bikini, capri pants, flip flops, and a stuffed brightly colored beach bag. I felt like whistling down the empty street. I set up an experiment in a quiet peaceful lab, when my phone rang. It was A and G on their way.

They greeted me outside in a silver Ford Focus. In a moment of nostalgia, they reminded me of that movie, "the Flamingo Kid." G wore a small hat, like Matt Dillon's signature chapeau, and A just cut her blond hair in a fresh short bob, kind of like Janet Jones.

Road trip!

In the tradition of all great road trips, we got lost. We circled around a few times, made a few U-turns, and then decided to alter our plan and go to Crane's Beach. Having gotten there when it was overcast and 10am meant the parking lot was fairly empty. All the concession stands were closed. Summer was over according to the State of Massachusetts.

We found a spot on the squishy white sand. All three of us laid down to read our respective books. Actually come to think of it, the books we read reflected who we were quite well. I read a biography titled "Rosalind Franklin: the dark lady of DNA," A had her New Yorker open, and G was reading "Reading Comics."

I got tired of my book. The sun finally burnt through the clouds. I stripped to my swim suit, and tuned into a podcast of "Bill Moyer's Journal." It was a little depressing and so I switched to David Sedaris reading a chapter from "Naked." Somehow, when I emerged from my book slash podcast haze time and leap frogged foward to 12:30pm. Maybe I would venture into the water. Hmmmm... water at 65 degrees Fahrenheit perhaps it was better I stay on the sunny sand.

On occasion, G and A would share a playful couple's moment. Just like the Flamingo Kid.

We decided to wrap things up after my stomach's rumblings made themselves apparent. Next to the beach was a apple farm. Although we had no desire to pick apples, that did not mean we could not buy apples. I bought half a dozen apple cider doughnuts. I told the lady next to me that we planned to get fried clams and french fries right after the doughnuts. The woman winked and said "the Ipswich trifecta."

So after doughnuts, we stopped by the Clam Box and ate whole bellied clams, onion rings, and french fries. The mound of fried goodness overflowed the paper plate. On any other day I would say it was a fry-o-later overload, but for the last day of summer it was a perfect golden ending.