Rufous-sided towhees singing in the treetops when we arrived here at Uncle Merlin's late this afternoon.
Drink your TEA! they say. Drink your TEA!
They're always here to greet us. I think. Towhees are fairly common around the Cape, advertising for Lipton in the upper branches of every other scrub oak and pine, but I've only seen a few, all of them on the ground, none of them in this neighborhood. Could be that's what's been up there, singing us into town all these years, have been some very talented mockingbirds.
What I could see in the treetops was a breeze. A stiff one. A cooling one.
Nine o'clock and it's still blowing, harder, cooler, lower. Coming in the windows, billowing the white curtains, making them think they're sails on a schooner far out at sea. Coming across the porch, making me think I should put on my sweatshirt, making me think, It's going to get cold tonight, making me think, ahhhhhhhh!
Most people come to a beach town for the beach---for the sun on the beach, for the heat that will drive them into the water where they will think, ahhhh!
I come to Cape Cod for the cold.
This isn't as easy to find as it used to be. Being able to spend the day at the beach and then spending the night shivering delightedly in a sweater and even long pants, this was the usual weather-defined pattern of our days down here on our August vacations when I was a kid. Since the blonde can't put up with the crowds here in August, we've taken all but two of our vacations since we've been married in July. Nights like tonight aren't as common in July and I'm determined to enjoy it because it could be the only one while we're here. I'm going to stay out here on the front porch until I freeze.
Or until the mosquitos eat me alive.
Strong as the breeze is, it's not strong enough to blow them to wherever mosquitos get blown to when the wind has its way with them. They've found shelter in the lee of me where the bar is always open and the drinks are free.