Tuesday, July 31
No papers this morning, fog has rolled in and swallowed the island, the planes can’t get in quite yet. Breakfast is al fresco on the restaurant patio.
We drove around parts of the island during the early day mist and found ourselves at the site of a New York Times article from a couple of weeks ago. Because of erosion, a group of homeowners has petitioned to restore the beaches in front of their houses with $25 million of private funds they are raising. In the meantime, several of the homes are being elevated, dug out, and moved about 20 yards closer to the road—all the space that’s left. The lighthouse at that point is going to have to be moved by the government.
Even if successful, the new beach might last five years or one or two more Nor’easters, and then the entire effort would have to be repeated.
The day cleared, we picked up the papers in town (I’ve tried the switch which raises the car by a few inches to contend with the cobblestones) and spent the afternoon in the sun. Dinner at The Pearl, Asian fusion, sirloin steak and spiced, hand-cut French fries to die for. One tequila mojito was sufficient.
Temperature dropped from 75° to 68° just during the drive back, as we wended our way around the curves and through the tall brush. When we first came here years ago, it was easy to get lost on dark, poorly marked island roads. Now, GPS maps show me exactly where I am amid the dunes and vegetation. Is that progress?
Looking from our porch to the lawn and bay beyond.
© Alan Weiss 2007. All rights reserved.