Sweet summertimes on Martha’s Vineyard
The nostalgia of a ferry ride out of Woods Hole is real and personal for many. The first trip Matt and I ever took as a couple was a day excursion to Martha’s Vineyard. It is a joy to return there with our friends year over year.
This year, we stole away for an afternoon to Aquinnah. The year we were married, we took a brief, off-season honeymoon at the Duck Inn. Our room had a window that looked out towards Gay Head Light. After dusk, the beam from the beacon cut rhythmically through the curtain, alternating bands of red and white.
We enjoyed a small bite at The Outermost Inn. Little else is more cheerful than a spritz and a plate of oysters on a summer afternoon.
I look upon places with eyes of love. Especially this place. The bustling harbor on the mouth of the Acushnet. The five glimmering lighthouses and the cobblestoned hill. The underground railroad and the Liberty Bell. The gentle plot of land where my mother is laid to rest. The City that Lit the World.
June in Westport. Strawberries can be found at every turn: at the end of driveways on makeshift farm stands, and at every market worth visiting.
The outer Cape feels a wild place. There’s a distinct charm to its town nomenclature: Wellfleet with its saltmarshes, Provincetown with its dune shacks, Orleans, where the sun rises and sets over the sea. These places seem suitable to set a fairytale, more than Chelmsford or Lakeville or Lee.
Perhaps we overestimated our savvy. Breakwaters are old hat, we thought; we knew what we were in for. I opted for my sneakers over my sandals, but left the backpack behind. We were just taking a stroll across the water.
If you have the good fortune to be in Westport in mid-June, pull off at the nearest farm stand and buy yourself a pint of strawberries. Buy an additional pint for each member of your party - it’s an extravagance only afforded once a year.