Silent Night

Nantucket

Ann and Maureen left late yesterday afternoon.

It is very quiet here. I miss the sounds of laughter or cell phones has been replaced with the soft shuffling sound of the becalmed ocean, cocktails on the deck, conversations about everything, just everything. But I need the balance of quiet.

Slowly, I'm sinking into solitude that always serves me well once I let go of the notion that constant activity and company is a great goal. It is a good goal. But so is solitude. In that interior space is where I anchor myself for the upcoming round of life awaiting me after I leave this island. Solitude always informs my judgment, my patience, my sense of contentment.

I love the contrast of extrovert/introvert in me. But it's taken years to learn how to temper the out there me, to allow the quiet. Know when I need each of them.

Monday night I used my mezzo voice at the piano bar at the Summerhouse, arm draped around the piano player as I belted out " If ever I would leave you".

And last night, I sat and watched the sunset over a navy blue ocean and the full moon rise over the grey clapboard Madaket cottages, the color of clotted cream. It was a stunning sight.

So, during this couple of days until the kids come, I'll fill up with the beauty of this place, Ann Morrow Lindbergh-like.

And sing a favorite lyric of Joan Baez, "I'll be the first to praise the sun, first to praise the moon....."

I'll be singing it as a hymn, a mantra, a gift--to me.

M.C.