As I am driving home on a hot sunny night from my Boston office, out a little early, the thought of going to the gym or for a walk around Pond Meadow, two times, doesn't thrill me. I could just make dinner and sit on the couch but than I would be mad at myself, although I have a good excuse to do this. It's hot outside.
Steve is home and I say "hey, let's go to Nantasket Beach for a long walk". He surprises me and we change clothes and we are out the door in 15 minutes. Not an easy task for my husband. He usually takes forever to leave the house. He takes numerous trips back and forth from the car to the house to the garage, not sure what is is looking for and why he can't ever leave the house in swoop. I try not to interrupt him. We decide to take the beach chairs, just in case we want to sit after our walk. I secretly think to myself, maybe we won't end up walking but instead sit in the beach chairs, people watch, and take in the last moments of the day. I have a chilled bottle of chardonnay in the wine fridge but stop myself from taking it with us, not sure if I will regret this decision later.
We get to Nantasket and the parking lots are full with cars. I am surprised at how many people are on the beach at this time of night, a week night no less. We park in our usual lot, as far down the public beach as possible near the last bathhouse. The beach is much wider at this point and great for walking. We leave our flip flops in the car and have a plan to walk all the way to the end of the private section of the beach as we usually do.
I am so thrilled with myself for coming up with this idea. It's only 6pm and we have plenty of sunlight left. As we walk, we mostly pass small groups of friends or families with multiple generations gathered around in their beach chairs eating dinner or just chatting. It looks like most people have been here all day. Do these people work? I am guessing they all have houses they can walk back to. I say to Steve, "I bet they are all here because they don't have air conditioning", he replies that "it's beautiful here and they wouldn't need air conditioning on a night like this with the breeze from the ocean". He thinks I am so obsessed with air conditioning. I am.
We also pass people who are sitting all by themselves. I can't help wonder if they have family, do they live alone. Are they lonely being alone on the beach or do they love the tranquility and prefer it that way. Do they have a choice? We walk for a solid 60 minutes and towards the last leg of our walk, Steve announces we need to really pick up the pace so he can use the bathhouse. We discover it's closed. I am glad it's not me, as it usually is.
We drive out of Nantasket feeling pretty good about the night we didn't spend sitting on the couch. We drive by Jakes, a Nantasket landmark with really good fried seafood, and I get a look from Steve just waiting for me to say, "let's have dinner". Instead I say "let's go home". As we drive home, the skies open and we get downpours and laugh about the timing and what a great way to spend a summer night.
