Biking around Deer Island feels like I'm on vacation on The Vineyard or Nantucket (although Ive never been, it's how I imagine it). Ocean breezes, peddling against the wind, sunlight on me, wind chimes in the distance- it all feels glorious. Peddling back is HARD. The wind is crazy, wind in my face, my eyes water, sand pelts my skin, pushing, pushing, pushing to make headway on my bike. I get back to Ocean Drive and there are firetrucks and ambulances. Five men run a motor boat down to the water to rescue something or someone. It feels like they take forever and I think how slow time must pass if you re in distress, awaiting help. It turns out the site they are going to is 1/2 mile away, so the boat motors over and the ambulances drive closer. I stand around, catching my breath, taking it all in, wondering what happened. The water is choppy today and there is an empty raft that may or may not have had someone on it. I think about how one minute the world can seen great and the next minute, there is terror and disaster. Its a scary thought how there is no way to know whats going to happen next, how it can all change in an instant and how little control we actually have.
