Illuminations

Illuminations, an annual event in Oak Bluffs, was last night. The Methodist Campgrounds--long history--where gingerbread cottages are clustered like jewels are decorated with Chinese lanterns, each porch lit like a Christmas tree. Everyone gathers at the Tabernacle where music is played. Old timers, those whose families have been coming to the cottages for 50 years, gets up to speak and to give the signal for all the lanterns to be turned on. There is nothing grand about any of this, really, but in its quirky way, still charming. It is a tradition here that has been on going for a long time. It was my first Illuminations since I've never been able to stay this late into the season. I was invited for cocktails at our friends, who live here all year round. It was a lovely evening where long time residents took me into the fold. Everyone seemed to have a tale of how they ended up coming to live on this island full time. Some grew up here, leaving to seek new places, yet somehow being lured back to this place. For others, it is a place that seemed to grab them year after year, so that the decision to make this their permanent home the most logical decision.

This place is intoxicating in a subtle, Pinot Noir way. I've tried to figure out what exactly about this island has me so enthralled, enough to put roots here, even if only for four months out of the year. I may spend the rest of my life wondering what about this island fills me with so much contentment. This contentment is what keeps me dreaming about being here the rest of the year.

My son and I have started our count down till we leave. This bereavement starts at about the week mark when each precious day is spent savoring all that is a part of this island. Each day at the beach, each swim in the waters that are now a comfortable temperature, each meal of fried clam strips, each slice of pizza at Giordano's, each walk down Circuit Ave, all get tucked inside our memory bank for the Vineyard. This year, unlike all the others, feels less dramatic since we will be coming again in October. The proximity of the Vineyard to New York is a new element. I could, if I wanted, come up for a weekend retreat. Our family could come up to see the desolate beauty of Ocean Park blanketed by snow. I imagine we will spend some holidays here.

More important than my love affair with this island is that of our young son's. He seems to thrive here each summer, taking huge leaps in development. This summer he learned to swim in a week in the ocean, no less. He is now diving off of his babysitters shoulder into the Sound, riding his boogy board like a professional surfer. He likes to dive to the sandy bottom, grabbing stones before resurfacing. Any of his fears about being in the water, all produced I'm certain by LA parents' need to get their kids swimming out of the womb, has evaporated. He swims with complete confidence, so that most of his friends his age can't go swimming with him. His shouts for whatever friend to come out to the sand bar gets carried by the wind to everyone at the Inkwell. People now stop to comment on what a swimmer he is, and to ask his age. His confidence about meeting new friends at the beach swells each week. He is forever bringing his newest friend to wherever we are sitting, wanting to feed him whatever we've packed for the day.

His anxiety about all the radical changes to his young life gets revealed every so often. I can only hope all of the fun memories of this summer will buoy his spirit as he enters that new classroom for the first time.