June 2020: The Salt Pond
As with the state of the world right now, it’s no wonder that my photo blog for a moment in June comes months later. I imagine most people feel similarly about the passage of time this year— I’ve felt so much like I’m in an aquarium, watching the world pass by from behind a thick glass. I’m in it, but I’m not. I feel detached from gravity entirely while devastatingly weighed down by it.
It’s been a chaotic year to say the least. There’s been a good measure of grief and anxiety in our personal lives and at one point it felt relentless. One night, my husband looked at me from across the couch and began the gentle dialogue of: “Can we please get the hell out of here?” I’ll admit, I really did need some coaxing and reassurance.
The truth was, we had to Get Away. Near enough, but far enough, too. So we took a trip, just the two of us, to a tiny cottage on a salt pond here in Rhode Island. It felt strange… I struggled so much with those first few days of figuring out what it meant to “rest” again. Tune out, turn off, and be still? In this world? We’ve been tremendously lucky to have the luxury and privilege to have spent the majority of our relationship planning getaways and going on big (and small) adventures, just us or with our friends. I won’t harp too much on how challenging-for-us it’s been to go without, because, well, that’s small goddamn potatoes in 2020. We’re surviving without our normal routine of travel. We have each other and that’s what matters most. We can make it through anything.
We did, however, really need to get the hell away.
After my chittering, buzzing nervous system caught up to my desperate brain, wouldn’t you know it… I felt a bit like myself again. I was able to swim, cook, do homework, manage telecom doctor appointments, and I even read a fantastic book by the rolling seafog. The Fisherman by John Langan will probably always hold a near and dear place in my heart as a grim and frightening world that was able to keep me excitedly up at night and away from the grim and frightening world I’m currently living in. (I know, I know… Sounds a bit wacky, but if you’re a horror fan, you’ll understand.)
I hope to look back at this little blog post and remember this trip for the real blessing it was in such an anxious, confusing, and difficult time. I’m so grateful to have Mike in my life, who gives a damn enough to know we’ve got to keep living (safely, responsibly, and within pandemic restrictions because we’re not assholes) and find peace where we can. Find ourselves where we can.
This place was a quiet oasis in a time when we both really needed it.
And I’m so grateful we got to experience something like this in the madness of it all.