Friday, October 21, 2011

in the brine

New place to live means new places to swim.

The problem with this island is that the coastline can be privately owned. I have to walk through 3-4 peoples' properties to get to the water, but you wouldn't know it - it's a steep mossy slope with huge stands of cedars and maples. No fences or markers or sign of human presence whatsoever.

I've decided to play it more like a deer, less like a person. I walk quietly down the slope, pausing occasionally to listen and watch for people. Sometimes I hear them and I stand still until I know they can't see me. I pick routes that are out of the line-of-sight of the houses, and make my way down to sheltered rocky cove where I'm invisible to everything but the three river otters who live in a nearby shack.

If I ever get caught, I'll apologize and plead ignorance and do a better job sneaking next time.

You can buy the oceanfront and say the forests are yours, but I'll be damned if you're going to keep me from enjoying the trees and the animals and the cold water every morning.

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