Guest Post by Edward Curtin
We have come to Cape Cod for a few days to forget the man-made world that is too much with us. I have asked my forgettery to get to work. As my childhood friends used to say to me, “Eddy spaghetti, use you forgetty.” The adults had no idea what they meant. Many still do not.
Here slowness reigns and forgetting seems possible, even if for just a few days. In mid-May, the beaches are deserted except for the swooping gulls, the sandpipers prancing across the sand, and a few seals eyeing you from just off-shore. An occasional frigate bird glides past. The wind rushes through your ears, making conversation almost impossible.
But no words are needed here, for the ocean speaks its own language and the tales it tells are deep. You can only hear them if you shut up and listen. It utters reminders of the immensity of creation and the puniness of human aspirations. The sea dismisses with a roar the pretensions to power of the Lilliputians.
Continue reading “Death’s Secretary Tries to Forget on Cape Cod”
