They Must Be Cousins

It seems impossible to have a family refuge that allows me to truly enjoy life at a slower pace.

We come to The Island for a great salty-air sleep, a hearty meal (undoubtedly cooked on the grill), an occasional PortMac, and a healthy spritz of salt water from the shallows beneath the trusty alumacraft.

We come for laughter, for sandy sheets and for the irreplaceable sandy soap in the outdoor shower.
We travel great distances for that outdoor shower.

Long ago, we came to The Island to reunite with siblings and parents.  We came to make good money.  To make good money doing mindless work really: washing dishes, bagging groceries, stocking shelves, slinging donuts, rigging sailboats....

We came to laugh at the tourists - especially those on mopeds. And we laughed at the tourists who wore neon.  And nevermind the tourists who combined both activities.

For a while, we believed that after a few good hurricanes weathered on these shores, we could call ourselves natives.  Now that we're older, we've learned that the natives might not be the best crowd to run with on this Island.

For now, we'll just run with family.

For me, and for you - we came to connect: with the natural beauty that surrounds, with siblings who'd moved off to a new stage in life, with children who were growing up WAY to fast.  We came to connect with our deepest thoughts that always get lost in the gentle roar that is our  daily life on the mainland.

We now come to The Island  to watch the next generation discover that under Papa and Granny's roof, the terms cousin and friend are synonymous.  We come to have them learn that Aunts can be magical, crazy, a fountain of fun and that Uncles can be unpredictable, have endless games up their sleeves and seemingly boundless energy.  We come to The Island and our sense of "extended family" is quickly defined.

And we love it's definition.  And we want it to extend it even further.

This is why I felt more than moved today when I sat on the wooden bench nearest the ferry slip in Vineyard Haven and listened to Nonie describe every coupling of birds as "cousins".  Mom, look at those two - they must be cousins.

Even if they weren't the same breed, even if they looked nothing alike - she'd see two birds enjoying the same sandy beach, or same weathered railing, or same swaying row boat and she'd declare them cousins.

For a moment I am reminded of the time she asked if Aunt Lily was Mary Poppins.  Lils, can you fly?

.....Ms. Nonie has a tendency to be right....perhaps those birds are cousins.

While the avian cousins flew in every direction above VH harbor this glorious afternoon, I was reminded of how grateful I am for the opportunity to come to this place to let the sand rush in....

With my deep, deep appreciation to Granny & Papa, and to all the cousins, siblings and outlaws, for bringing their own magic to these sandy shores.