827. Vacation

I'm on vacation. It's been way, way too long.

My plans through Friday: nothing. Well, not exactly; my dear old childhood friend and I will visit a few beaches, ride bikes, take a tour of a sand dune, watch a baseball game, go to an art gallery or two, eat pancakes (we're staying at a B&B), eat fish (we're on Cape Cod; I don't love most fish, but it seems appropriate), and try our best to recapture that long-ago art of hanging out without agenda or deadline. I used to be so good at this as a kid; I've lost the knack, but my body and brain are already starting to slow down. It's nice. I am a little unnerved at being so connected to reality, though; there's wireless at the B&B (a better connection than at home, in fact) and I've already posted photos to Facebook and Twitter, and gotten comments back. Most other vacations were spent having no idea what was going in in the world, let alone announcing my every move to a vast network of mildly curious acquaintances. (Today's photo uploads were just a novel experiment; the rest of my vacation will be shared the old-fashioned way, foisted on polite friends one evening after dinner.)

There's a bay across the road, and in daylight I can see the blue-grey water from my window as it shimmers and ripples in the breeze. At night, right now, just the big, fat moon dripping a reflection over low waves.