there is something about water.
we're a few miles from vineyard haven and i'm out on a porch by the water and everything feels clean, everything is alright. from time to time, a boat passes by with its engines bubbling and breaking the silence, and then it disappears and you hear the water and the birds again.
i'm balancing a teacup and saucer filled with scotch on my lap - luke and i weren't sure if mo's parents would be cool with us drinking this early.
there is the scent of garlic from the kitchen and i've been told that we're having shrimp and scallops this evening. most everyone is downstairs sun-dried and exhausted.
it's really nice here. happy. content. away from everything.
earlier today there was a path just outside of edgartown. it curved left and right and wound about itself, and then there were these shrubs and bushes that grew up high and reached over and across and created a doorway that led us towards a little lighthouse. there was a tiny beach by the lighthouse and we dropped our bags and towels and ran into the water.
"it's fucking cold." someone yelled. maybe i did. maybe jess or mo.
some of us stood by the water and just stared out.