Eh, they’ll figure it out

20 Aug

Ah, the beloved day off. Time away from the hustle and bustle, the quickness and slowness, the grind. 

August. The tourist season. Doubles and triples every day.

Then comes that one sacred day a week. That chance to escape (though we’re literally trapped on an island) and the chance to be free. 

I have a few spots I escape to. The tourists consider my presence part of the landscape. I’m ok with that. For this day and this time only I am not a guide. Nope. I will answer no questions. I will give no history lessons. I won’t direct to the nearest restroom. I offer no facts about the flora and fauna except ‘No, don’t go over there! There is some poison ivy… eh, they’ll figure it out…’

It is my time for peace and quiet. I remember the silence when I first arrived on the island and I yearn for it again. I look longingly across the rolling ocean and dream of what may be out there, deep underneath. The shipwrecks, the fish, the rocky sea floor nearly 300 feet deep. I hope to see a whale. And a seal. And a cormorant catch a fish.

I see all three. 

I pick up my bag, trudge back to the village. My work for the day is done. My mind happily turned down. My ears ignore the voices. It is time to taunt the gulls and ducks by eating a lobster on the beach in front of them. 

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