Tempus Non Fugit

Only three days of August remaining and these columns have not uttered a word of late.  A sense of guilt, or is it neglect, crept over me when I counted the days on the calendar and realized that I had not posted since the sixth day of the month.  Yet it seems longer than that, for August has a tendency to drag its heels every year.

As previously reported the east end of the island is under siege.  But so is any tourist honey-pot during the height of summer.  And for those of us who attempt to live routine lives when all around them are intent on frenetic pleasures the key obstacle to doing so is the traffic.  Highway traffic, of course.  It took my daughter an hour and three-quarters to drive home from Riverhead yesterday - a journey that ordinarily takes less than half that time. And a simple plan such as driving to the next village has to take into account long tailbacks and dangerous driving on the back, country lanes.

Journey times aside, it is also cars and the number of cars that keep me from my loves of fishing and boating at this time of year.  For even in the remotest places, by beach, lake or creek, there are cars carrying visitors, picnickers and others enjoying all that the great outdoors can offer.  And why not!  Good luck to them!  I hope that the weather gods smile on them for the short remainder of their vacation, and on me next week when I take up a fly rod and drive effortlessly to an empty stretch of water.

Aestas Fugit

On the fourth day of August it was quite extraordinary how the air and the social atmosphere had changed. Oh, we’re still enjoying (if that is the word) mostly fine days and warm sunshine, but when I rose at 5:55 that morning there was an unexpected coolness and total absence of humidity. Dare I say it – a light touch of autumn in the air.  Of course all this had changed by the time I arrived at church an hour and a half later, but it still left me wondering where part of the summer had gone.  I shared these thoughts with a parishioner after the early service of Holy Communion (a dyed in the wool hunting and fishing man) and his eyes gleamed.  Yes, he said. And the geese are moving early. Taking this to be some kind of code I merely nodded.  But I knew what he meant.

Socially we are at the apex of the summer season and the remaining days of August will be different from all the rest of the natural year.  For the creature known as the “August Renter” (aestas pensio) has arrive.  Aggressive in car and many other observable traits; interesting plumage; a disbeliever in standing in line and many common courtesies; agitated in the cause of enjoying their temporary habitat and their vacation experience (sic.) 

Oh yes, the geese are moving early.  Perhaps not early enough.