Every year, I have my ups and downs. Birthdays, anniversaries, holidays, births, deaths, heatwaves, snowstorms, rainfloods, Halloween candy, Easter ham, and the inevitable re-gifted fruit cake. Some parts I look forward to, some I dread. Some pass by without commentary.
But there is one week per year wich is my love, my best friend, my reason for being. And it is the very start of that week which is the crown jewel in my year. And it is one specific moment in that time that is the sparkle in the crown jewel of the crown of the king of weeks in my year.
Yes, I live my entire year for about one minute of glory.
After heading south, over the bridge, down the bay, onto the penninsula, we crowd onto the ferry, and wait and wait and wait for it to pull out. At long last it does. We then sail over the ocean blue, in (hopefully) brilliant sunlight, watching as the dark shape on the horizon resolves into a vague land mass. And then watching as the little stick on the edge of the land mass resolves into a lighthouse.
The light house then grows and reveals its detail, as bouys pass us by. We pass the bouy, then feel the ferry turn. The little spit of land recedes, and shows us her innermost secret. Dotted with small boats, tall ships, gas tanks, steeples perched on hills, there it is – Vineyard Haven, in all its glory, with all its promise of days steeped in beachwater and devoid of work-related drudgery.
And that, my friends, is the defining moment of my year.
And it’s 23 hours away.
