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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1831582-Memories-Of-Napatree
Rated: E · Short Story · Melodrama · #1831582
Hiking on the beach; strolling through memories.
Visiting Watch Hill and Napatree Point in January is very different from July.  Finding a parking spot during the Summer is a challenge.  Easier during the Winter.

I drove through the small, almost empty, town parking lot off Bay Street, across from the Olympia Tea Room, which was closed for the season.  Went out past the locked up private cabanas, to the end of what appears on maps as Fort Road, but is little more then parking for the cabanas during the Summer.

I unloaded a small package, locked the car, and began my hike.  Crossing over the first sand dunes, brought me down to the ocean side beach.  It was a classic clear, dry and very brisk, January day.  The end of the Point, 1 1/2 miles away, stood out so well, it didn't seem to be that far.

My plan was a round trip.  Out on the ocean side to the ruins of Fort Mansfield for our ceremony, then back on the Little Narragansett Bay side.  The sand down near the water was firmer, allowing me to make better time.  As I lost myself in the walking, memories came flooding back.

A Summer day, when we brought our best girls from Mystic to Napatree.  Sixteen years old, and loving every minute of our limitless lives.

"OK Buzz, jump out and pull the anchor up on the beach," Tommy said.  We were in his father's boat.  He slowed the engine, and pulled it up out of the water, as we drifted toward shore.

"Hand me the pack," I said to Mary, jumping into the knee deep water and reaching back to get our bundle of sandwiches, towels, sun tan lotion, and a portable radio.

"I've got the cooler," said Don.  Everyone piled out, and we headed over the dunes.

Rock and roll on the radio.  Dozing off on the warm sand.  Sandwiches and Coke.  The smell of sun tan lotion.  In those simpler days, rubbing lotion on each other was as much hands on action as we got in public.

Just like that, my memory flipped fifteen years forward, to another January day on Napatree.  Mary and I, our two sons, and Tony, a 50 pound bundle of pure energy masquerading as a Husky.

"Catch it Tony," hollered Eddie, our older boy, as he threw a piece of drift wood up the beach.  Tony wasn't too interested in chasing sticks though.  He much preferred having the boys try to get away.  Which they kept trying, but with no success.

Another memory came into place, another fifteen years forward.  Another Winter stroll.  Over the years, it was a favorite time and place for us to get away.

This time it was Mary and I, along with Eddie and his wife.  We got some great pictures of the two of them sitting on the rocks at the end of the Point, looking out into the sun bouncing off the ocean.  Later as we climbed around in the ruins of the old Fort, we heard voices coming up the other side.  We weren't alone.

"Well," the first head to pop up over the edge said.  "You never know who you're going to run into out here in the ruins."

"I guess not," I replied to my brother, his best friend, and their wives.  My brother's friend owned the Olympia Tea Room, and lived above it.  The restaurant was closed, but we were all invited back to their home for a great visit.

Eddie and his wife didn't know when we were taking their pictures that day, but she did seem to be glowing.  A month later, we got the great news, they were expecting our first grandchild.

Fifteen years forward to the next memory, one from just two years ago, this time during the Summer.  Mary and I sailed our sloop from New London, anchored in the bay, and took the dinghy in to the Watch Hill Yacht Club.  We crossed Bay Street to the Olympia, for a gathering of the old gang, the same gang that we'd spent our teenage days with tanning on the beach 45 years earlier.

"Here's to many more gatherings," we all said, toasting each other and the years we'd been together.

The memories left me smiling as I reached the end of the Point.  That helped.

My eyes got misty, but I was able to unwrap my package.  A moments pause, then I opened the top of a small box.  Another pause, then I sent my darling Mary to the final resting place she'd requested.

After a 360 degree scan of the waters around the Point, I headed back on the bay side, having added another memory.

© Copyright 2011 Sailor M (sailor40 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1831582-Memories-Of-Napatree