Day Of Bliss By Marsha Portnoy

 

 

 

A Day of Bliss

By Marsha Portnoy

People refer to Montauk as the end. .No! To me it is the beginning of bliss.

The sun peeks through the morning fog as thick as pea soup.  Early risers are out.  Joggers listen to headsets, lovers hold hands, dog walkers allow their dogs to run freely, fishermen dressed in high boots and overalls surfcast,. strollers drink their coffee.  Everyone is friendly and says, “Hello”. Cold icy water touches my feet and I start to shiver.   Walking down the beach I marvel at cliff homes with their decks and wraparound porches.

The thunderous white bearded waves roll in forming  a crescent of  foam  I pick up a seashell and listen to the screaming ocean sounds. Daring surfers bob up and down in the waves like jacks in the boxes..  I sit on the sand and breathe in the fresh air. Clouds embrace the blue green ocean.

Montauk’s famous “Bakery” calls me. Chocolate scones are filled with melting chocolate chips and sugary dough and the coffee is known as the best in Montauk.  I pick up some newspapers including Dan’s with local news  relax on my deck eat a leisurely breakfast.

Before returning to the beach, I coat my body with creamy suntan lotion

smelling like vanilla.  My chair, umbrella, towel and book wait outside my door.  The beach is a blanket of people.  Children scream and jump the waves.  The sound of a paddle ball hitting rackets is rhythmic and mixes with melodic music. A woman with a wide rimmed hat and a brightly colored long skirt like a gypsy walks in and out of clusters of people making clanging sounds. “Bracelets, necklaces, earrings, rings” she shouts.  I drift off into a peaceful sleep, wake up in another world.

It is time for lunch, a short walk into town to Peter’s Catch and delicious food. The snack bar is decorated in a beach theme. There are two lobster traps on each side of the store and a net in between. I order a lobster roll and sit down at an outside table. Chunks of lobster ooze out of the roll. I take out a bib and put it on.  I hear my mother warning, “Be careful not to drop anything on your new shirt.”

I return to the beach gaze at the shimmering water.  It is the middle of the day and the sun is strong.  My feet are on fire when I step on the sand.  The sun waltzes over the water, I venture in the water and taste the salt.  Boats are in the distance.  The sky is filled with colorful kites. Seagulls forage in the garbage for crumbs..  I gather my things go up to the condo.  It is late afternoon and time to hike.  Montauk has many state parks andCampHerois my favorite. The cliffs and views are magnificent. I click on my camera and take breathtaking.  I meet some of my friends at the Westlake Clam and Chowder House.  We eat by the marina. The fishermen filet the fish and weigh them.  Soon the fish is cooked and tastes delicious with our beer.

After time for dinner we go back to the beach again. The blazing red hot sun settles in for the night. We grab our shovels dig a big hole in the sand.  The sky is coal black with a stark bright moon and stars.  Campfires make the beach look like a mass of fireflies.  We roast marshmallows until they are gooey. They go between two graham crackers and chocolate make smores.   The smell of the many bonfires on the beach is strong and pungent.

The day ends in the same place where it began,  the beach.