Lucky Eight

I got to the Salt Pond Visitor Center before 7 A.M. I was number 8 in the lucky dozen. We sat on lawn chairs, sipped coffee, read books, waiting for the doors to open @ 9.

You have to line up early to register for one of the 12 coveted [and free] beach campfire permits doled out daily. [Yesterday, I slept through the alarm.] Now we can have a Friday night fire crackling by the waves, salt spray in our hair, marshmallows blackening into a hard shell with a heart of molten goo. A campfire on the beach will be a memory our kids will tuck away, I hope, in the pockets of their jeans and hoodies. Whether in the near future or a long way down the road, they will remember.

No one can take good memories away. When the eight teens on our trip [Emmy, Izzy, Ryan, Joe, Andrew, Liam, Figgy and Charlotte] are back at Montclair High School, stepping from schoolwork to sports to SATs, I trust that slide shows in their minds of a campfire by the sea, or a spaghetti-and-meatballs dinner for 17 [at the Mernins' rental tonight], or our walk over Uncle Tim's Bridge in Wellfleet, will help keep them anchored. I also trust that when they face dark times, peer pressure or wavering self-confidence, they tap into the deep, fresh well of Cape Cod memories.

At least that's what propelled me to drag myself out of bed at 6:30 A.M.

Read here about President JFK signing bill to designate protected Cape Cod National Seashore. [Thanks to Richard Howe.] I have to scoot back home. With Sug in car, but it's 12:45 A.M. in an empty parking lot, and every time the shadows of the trees sway by my car, I think someone is approaching.

Good night.

1. That nice walk over the bridge to the marsh. We saw fiddler crabs and horseshoe crab shells.
2. Long nap this afternoon.  
3. Playing balderdash with all the adults and kids in the Mernins' living room after dinner. A lot of laughs.