Respite.

When my friends and family members and I talk about all that's going on, we always come back to the fact that it's all so exhausting, so enervating. 

I take a walk every day, and most of the people I pass on my walk are wearing masks. (My estimate for compliance in Boston, at least where I live, is 95%-plus.) This is an exhausting reminder that COVID-19 hit my town hard, and that ain't nobody out of the woods quite yet.

I take a walk every day, and when I walk down Charles, the Main Street of my neighborhood, more than half the stores are boarded up. This is an exhausting reminder of our nation's seemingly intractable problems with racism and stark economic inequality. 

So when my sister Kath asked if I wanted to spend some time at their second home in Wellfleet, I was just delighted. Less delighted when my brother Rick, who I'm in a social bubble with, expressed no interest in going to the Cape when so much of it would be closed. Kath and her husband are mostly staying in town until July, so the house in Wellfleet was free, but I wasn't interested in rattling around in it by myself. They told me that they would be opening their bubble up a bit, and that once they were on the Cape, I could come down and spend some time with them. Which I, of course, will. But after three months sheltering in place, I was really wanting a getaway.

So I was delighted again when my sister Trish and her daughter Molly - who are both working from home these days -  decided to open their social distancing pod to include me. And off to Wellfleet we went.

It's so beautiful here. Even when it's overcast - and most of the days have been sunny -  it's so beautiful here...

We've taken walks each day, and since there are so few people around, you don't need to wear a mask. We hang them around our necks, and pull them up when we pass by someone, but on our walks, there's no need to walk masked.

A lot of the restaurants are open for takeout, and we've gone to a few of our old familiar places: PJ's for lobster rolls, Escape for ice cream. We're masked at the pickup window, but that's okay.

It's so beautiful here. Sure, it's lovely to walk in the Boston Public Garden, along the Esplanade that runs along the Charles River, down on the Greenway. But there's beautiful and then there's beautiful and relaxing, beautiful and restorative. And that's Wellfleet.

We sit out on the porch, looking out across the marsh, and an hour just sitting there, staring, is like a week's vacation.

There are a few signs of the times. A cottage along our usual walk has a Black Lives Matter sign out front. And on the beach down the road, this is posted:

There's a lot of oystering and clamming in these parts, and social distancing has come to shellfishing. Be advised: if someone comes to check out your permit and your haul, BACK AWAY 6' FROM YOUR CATCH. 

Leaving this beach, I saw on my path a pair of grandparents with two little guys - maybe 2 and 4 years old - and the kids were dawdling. I stepped out of the way to let them pass, and the grandmother apologized for how slow the kids were being. I assured her that it was heartening to see these two little goobers exploring.

It's so beautiful here.

I'm shipping up to Boston this evening, and as we cross the bridge, I'll be humming a few bars of Patti Page's "Old Cape Cod."

If you spend an evening, then you'll want to stay.

Yes, indeed.

Don't get me wrong. I'll be happy to get back into town, into my own bed, back to my old routine, etc. But this respite has been so wonderful. It's so beautiful here. Can't wait to get back.