R & R
Following Judy’s sound advice, I decide to pamper myself with a second night at Willow Hill House in Southold with Gayle and Jack, my gracious hosts. The time off from walking will heal the body, mind, and spirit, and there is no more perfect spot to do so than right here.
After a super delicious breakfast, I tour the B & B grounds and chat about this and that with Jack. Given his age and huge reservoir of life experiences, he tells me so much about Long Island, this area, and life in general.
At noon, a former schoolmate from St. John’s, Ed Micca, whom I have not seen in well over 45 years, drives with his wife, Patty, to see me, and together we go visit the local lighthouse. I get to size-up once again the Connecticut shore across the blue waters of the Sound — tomorrow’s destination.
Rather than do the touristy thing, Ed and I gab away, bridging years of non-communication as fast as we can. Much is still left unsaid due to time constraints, but what is said shortens the divide of many years. Once a Montourian, always a Montourian (Montour Falls is the town south of Watkins Glen at the bottom tip of Lake Seneca, one of the New York Finger Lakes, where I went to high school.) Since Ed and I will see each other again next month at the big reunion, we let go of the urgency to try to cover everything.
Tomorrow to Orient Point I go. I am to take the ferry to New London and not swim, right? I can almost hear the resounding chorus of “permission granted!”
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