Yogis,
The hype began weeks ago. Everyone itching to shed their masks, restrictions
being lifted daily, rentals booked and cars gassed up. This Memorial Day was
going to be the party to end all parties! Expectations ran high. Both record
crowds and record celebrations of covid freedom were forecast.
Mother Nature had a different forecast. Rain.
See this picture. The welcome to town sign. This is what a typical Memorial Day weekend looks like on the beach. Shoulder to shoulder and impossible not to step on someone’s else’s blanket trying to find a path to the boardwalk for that midday slice of pizza. Now note the temperature.
The temperatures all weekend were record breaking in the
wrong direction, but they were only one aspect. Steady heavy rain and of
course, wind. The trifecta to dampen any outdoor event. And dampen it did…..literally.
What we all wouldn’t give for some dry shoes.
The side streets were still lined with cars, but they never
moved. Everyone hunkered down inside playing games and watching sports. Almost
as if it were six months ago. Even route 1 which typically would be a bumper to
bumper mob scene on a rainy day with vacationers flocking to the outlets, was
quiet. Everyone had quickly discovered it was actually physically challenging
to be outside, even for a dash from the car.
This morning I ran with Phoebe, raincoat and hood zippered
tight. Rain coming in sideways. The only other brave souls were runners. No
line for breakfast sandwiches on the boardwalk. No dads on the beach setting up
camp early to reserve a prime spot. No families pedaling around on rented
bikes. A ghost town.
I realized that no late night party goers talking too loudly had passed under our bedroom window on their way home last night. There had been no strolls into town after dinner for an ice cream cone. The sidewalks littered, not with red solo cups or Thrashers fries containers, but inside out umbrellas that simply couldn’t withstand that unexpected 30 mph gust. Even dogs had to adjust.
It all reminded me of one of those New Year’s parties where
the hype is so high and you want to be that ‘wild’ but deep down you sort of
know it is going to be a bust. It felt like the Universe looked down on all of
us ready to burst out and like a parent, suggested we slow down a bit.
Yes, get together with friends and family. Yes, be mask-less with others and hug away. Yes, eat out in a restaurant for the first time. But do you really need to go from 0 to 100 in one weekend?
It would have been nice to sit out on the back deck with a
beer in the evening after a long day on the beach. To wash sand out of my ears
in the shower or to open an umbrella designed for sun protection instead of rain.
But it was what it was and we quickly adjusted our expectations and ended up
having a really good time!
It all seemed fitting for the ‘so long’ to covid…… Don’t you agree?
Heated by the furnace, not the sun,
SARAH
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