Sunday, July 12, 2015
Whether it's Monhegan, Little Diamond or a pretty populated hunk of land like Peaks, it's a bit
contrary. And that's in a good way. At least to my way of thinking it is. Even for a visitor just staying for the day or the evening, it seems the minute your feet hit land you can feel it. As a matter of fact, I always start getting a different vibe as soon as I find myself a seat on the boat or ferry. I look around and notice the items my fellow travelers have packed for the trip. Their clothes and mannerisms seem to set them apart from other voyagers like me. I'm in it for a few hours. They are in it for the long haul. Approximately 850 make it their year round dwelling on Peaks Island. As you might imagine, this number just explodes in the summer season. But even someone like me, who's there for just a few hours, life is at a different pace. Time didn't forget the place, but there seems to be no real sense of time other then the boat back to the mainland schedule. I listen; I watch; I look at the year-round 'natives' and think of none other than my old, dear friend Alfred E. Neuman who graces the cover every month of one of my all time favorite magazines, Mad.
His philosophy of life works perfectly out here on an island.
"What, me worry?"
By the way, it's 5 o'clock somewhere.
Ah, island life.