Waking early Sunday, I step lazily out of bed to begin breakfast. Slowly sauntering about a strange kitchen in a pale morning light I find coffee and an antique percolator. A great cup of coffee is a precursor to every great day. Today will be no different.
I pull the curtain, above the sink, to one side. It’s apparent the island has yet to wake up. The cottage sits opposite a quiet road to the waterfront. Everything is as still as a painting with exception of three robins on a birch branch in the front yard. I sip my coffee, entranced by the panorama.
Before long the aroma of frying bacon lingers from the cast iron pan to the loft bedrooms and others join in for breakfast. Chatter centers around renting bicycles for an afternoon island tour. With full stomachs, we toss our boots on, let the screen door slam behind us, and set out for our next adventure.
Street front parking.
Dents, Dings, Stories.
Neighbors are a fort.
Rover 110. Style.
#selfie
Fetch.
Swing with a view in mind.
Shadows and buoys.
Lobstertrap boardwalk.
Just past the fence.
Home of beautiful sunsets.