Tree of Life

View from our line of campfire squatters.

Sittin' on my woven lawn chair at Salt Pond Visitor Center, waiting for a campfire permit. It's free, except for cost in lost sleep. The doors don't open til 9, but each day the rangers dole out only 12 permits total [I think it's four each] for Coast Guard, Nauset Light and Marconi beaches. I got here 6:46 a.m. to get spot no. 11 on line. If you're unlucky number 13, you head back home, tail between your sunburned legs.

This will be the third year in a row that I've snagged a permit for our big group of Mernins and Hurleys. This year, though, our Figgy is in NYC and Punch is making her campfire debut. We will miss our Figgy.

We all love sitting around the flames while the waves crash under the moon. And speaking of Mernins, here's a shot [below] that H. took of Michael Mernin yesterday--he is husband to my Cape-loving friend Anne and dad to Ryan, Emmy and Nikki. He's our cherished friend [H. adores him as he would an older brother] and really smart. Here's the hardworking NYC attorney taking a well-deserved nap near Great Pond: