It is lovely here. not just the surroundings, but the general demeanor. it's hard not to be happy among the sea-blasted woodiness of cape cod and the streaming morning sun as it beams down on cranberrry bushes and marigolds. Did I mention that it's beautiful?
There's a joy in the air, or I'm imagining things.
The rainbow is the favorite color of p-town and I'm glad. People are fabulously happy here. Not "leave us alone we're on vacation privately" happy, but "hey how are you we're on vacation, too" happy. Right now a group of nearly a dozen walks down the shoulder, headed off to the diminishing tip of the horn of the Cape. I just realized that mostly I'm seeing adults, although there are kids here, too.
The only sadness was waking up in our tiny charming room at The Dunes and having Lucy be gone, off to work on the flowers for Susan and Karen's wedding, today at 2:30. Last night was the rehearsal dinner, but really more of a friends party, a family party, a gathering of loved ones. And listening to Susan and Karen each speak about how happy it made them for us to come here for their wedding and how happy it made them to get married made me wonder why on earth anyone would wish ill on anybody of any color or any gender or any disposition, who wanted—really wanted—to marry somebody else. It's an act of the most profound and genuine love, from where I sit here this morning—on a deck, with the breeze whipping around flags of the US, Canada, Portugal and the nation of those who are different, the rainbow flag, symbolizing, almost certainly better than any of the others, the union of "all the colors of the rainbow." This morning I defer to that flag more than ever before.