An hour before twilight yesterday, the sun was a glowing coal in the wood ash sky. Feeling lightheaded in my air conditioned car, I rolled down the windows and was met by the heady scent of horses and curing hay. An admixture of high summer and elevated emotion had me off balance as I made my way home after a glorious weekend away. It was a strange contrast, like the thinning of the walls between parallel worlds.
This weekend I will lift my sleeping children into the car before daybreak and drive Down East. We will pass beyond this time and place and into the slow and easy gaslight pace of a week on Monhegan Island. I will plunge into the cool waters from the rocks below the cottages, fill my lungs with the sea air. The children and my sister's family and I will roam the headlands, explore the old wreck at Lobster Cove, and row over to wild Manana with the tumbled remnants of the old hermit's shack and rumors of runic inscriptions from Vinland Vikings. I will watch the sun set over the water and in the tumbler glass. I may even get some sleep, rising and setting with the sun.
An old friend remarked to me recently that when you embrace change, sometimes it hugs you back. I have found joy in my complicated life recently that exceeds all expectation I am branching out beyond the roles of father, husband and provider that have preoccupied me these many years. Much to my relief, the children responded to the news of our planned divorce with greater acceptance and seeming comfort than I had hoped would be possible. I find it strange and a bit uncomfortable that these dear people now want to reassure me that I am a good father and they love me. I am very very lucky. Still there is much to be done before I can truly exhale.
Today is another scorcher, flirting with triple digit temperatures and steaming like bake oven bread. The tomatoes in my garden may ripen by the time I return from Maine, and raspberries are ready now. I will blend cucumber and yogurt with cumin and coriander and make peppermint iced tea tonight to beat the heat. For now, I move slowly, conserving energy, knowing that the night wind will cool my skin in good time.