Not too long ago, I read Richard Russo’s novel “That Old Cape Magic.” It’s about a 57-year-old guy who, in the course of his turmoil-filled life, is drawn back to Cape Cod for a variety of reasons.
I’m a 57-year-old guy who is drawn back to Cape Cod for a variety of reasons. (I have no turmoil.)
On the Cape this weekend, I had a couple of hours to myself, so I revisited some places from our happy family vacations. I found the cottage my parents would rent for a week (and eventually two when times were good). The white clapboard cottage with red shutters and window boxes is now clad in faded yellow aluminum siding, stripped of its Capey character. Most of the pines are gone. But it was that old Cape magic that led me right to a cottage I hadn’t laid eyes on in more than 40 years.
And less than a mile away, Seagull Beach. Driving on the access road leading to Seagull, it was easy to summon my inner 10-year-old. The feeling of eager anticipation. “Hope we find a parking spot quick!” “Hope we get a good place near the water!” “Hope the waves are big!”
The middle of February on Cape Cod is a perfect time to relive the memories. All the beauty without all the crowds.
That old Cape magic.