SITTING ON THE DOCK OF THE BAY

A few days ago, to relieve the boredom of sitting home all day, TLW (The Little Woman) and I decided to take a ride in my car with the windows closed. We decided to go down to the bay in Sayville and enjoy the sights I have long forgotten.

I decided the drive would be a leisurely one, taking in all that I took for granted and now miss. As I got into the car I asked TLW which way I should take, a local road or the more direct Nicholl’s Road with its two lanes in both directions. She suggested I take the Nicholl’s Road route because it is faster. I thought about that as I did and said to myself: “The fastest route to get to nowhere in particular!”

Arriving at the dock of the bay in Sayville next to where our wedding reception was held almost 50 years ago, Lands End, I found a nice spot to park against the abutment to the bay and discovered that everyone seems to have the same idea at the same time. To say the least, we all look lonely and sad. Under a beautiful sky with water rolling by people were in their cars, looking at their cell phones with their heads down! Why not just stay home and do your scrolling on the phone?

Sitting there looking out the front window I started a journey back in time when the beach was so much a part of my life. For the first time in many years, I noticed the seagulls, drifting lazily by, then suddenly hover above my head then continuing their flight. I thought of the great painters such as Leonardo or Botticelli who may have studied their flight and committed it to a canvas or board. I saw the waves as they headed into the shoreline, lapping occasionally over the abutment, white caps in the distance as a storm or rain occasion of some magnitude was preparing to overtake the beach.

The soothing echoes of the cawing of the birds seemed to awaken days gone by as the smell of salt air on occasion gave rise to even more memories of my youth. I even recalled my first time on a beach on Long Island, when my older sister Tessie, (much older) took me down to the beach when I was about ten and I sat with her friends as they lay in the sun listening to a small transistor radio. One of the guys started to sing along after the music ended and another cracked: “That’s what’s good about the radio, you can always shut it off!”

I remember seeing the horseshoe crabs as they landed on the beach, finding out that they were called horseshoe crabs with their spine-like tails because of their shape and wondering how they would taste in Mom’s sauce.

Leaving the dock and passing the restaurant where it all began I noticed how little has changed, and that dear reader to me down another memory lane I didn’t plan on going down.