otis pike wilderness, ny

September 22, 2015 Meg

A few weeks ago, I made a somewhat snarky post on Instagram. I like to consider it more of a public service announcement but regardless the comment was made. It was referring to the sudden shift from summer bliss to back-to-school fall mayhem. That particular time of year when all social media are suddenly flooded with images of beanies and references to a certain pumpkin flavored drink. It was my duty to remind the interwebs (ahem, myself) that summer is not actually over until late September so pull it together people.

The funny not-so-funny thing is that somehow we are very fast approaching the end of summer despite what this past weekend's sunshine and heat may have otherwise led us to believe. Pretty soon, despite my ongoing pleas and constant denial, the air will have that distinct autumn chill and tri-colored leaves will be crunching underfoot. With this impending doom (I’m not the least bit dramatic), I made one last trek out to Fire Island to soak up the last of what this summer sun has to offer, backpack and obliging friend in tow.

I've written about camping out on Fire Island before, albeit under different circumstances, and I think this may need to become an annual tradition. There's something magical about trading in the hubbub of hurried people and glowing computer screens for a foxy neighbor and the starry night sky.

I need a fair amount of quiet space to recharge from time to time. The sights and sounds of the daily grind build up and overwhelm my senses. The urge to runaway from it all and start over goes from a whisper to a resounding alarm. I like to think this is primarily a result of city living but who knows. Introverts unite?

Much of the past three weeks were spent in pursuit of constant distraction and I am not going to lie - a whole lot of this distraction came in the form of screens. Due to the nature of my job, it is very easy for me to plop my person down in front of a computer for a good (bad) eight hours and call it work. Hell, I am being paid for it. I am being downright productive.

I have a sneaking suspicion that I am not the only one who does this. Despite our ubiquitous kindergarten education, when it comes down to it, we are not all unique snowflakes. OK, so maybe part of that is true but I would be hard-pressed to find that no one could relate to my current sentiments splayed out for you in the ramblings above. That's part of the beauty of this whole human existence, isn't it? To know that you are never truly alone no matter how much you may feel at any given point in time. We all seek to escape at one time or another from the day-to-day and if the news has gotten anything right, it is that we all spend a wee bit too much in front of the ole screens. It's fascinating how little of your life you need to actively engage in when you always have a computer, phone, tablet, etc. in front of your noggin.

The beauty (sarcasm) of all of this nonsense is that I am, and likely you are too, in the midst of this culture of can't stop, won't stop. I am totally justified in my overloaded schedule of job, 2nd job, school, travel, family, etc. I tell myself that it is temporary but the truth is I have a long-standing habit of overbooking, followed by feeling completely overwhelmed by life, followed by retreating into my hermitage aka my brain… welcome. To a certain extent, I am limited by what I can do to remedy this situation. I have commitments that cannot be abandoned no matter how much I may dream about it.

So I do the next best thing. I grab my pack, the bare necessities, and a friend who was kind enough to indulge me in my last minute, plan changing, ferry missing craze. The night was far from perfect. Besides the previously mentioned transportation mishap, we also encountered swarms of mosquitoes attracted to our bug spray-less bodies and a fox who was rather smitten with my friend’s boot. But when it came down to it, it was just what I needed – some space to unplug, the company of a good friend, the sound of the waves crashing nearby, and perhaps even a night cap in hand.

notes:

- i know. how interesting is it that i am writing about my tour de force of life distraction via screens while obviously staring at a screen to write this all down. have some grace, people. it's all about the baby steps, no? well let's call this therapeutic venting and leave it at that.

- if you plan on making your own backpacking adventure out on fire island national seashore, it bears repeating - don’t leave home without the bug spray. we did and have all the regrets that come with all of the bites. seriously. we look sad and diseased and are itchy. oh so very itchy. (more packing ideas can be found here.)

- last but not least, it takes a special kind of person to not only let you nominate them as your backup plan but then actually fulfill that role when previous plans go awry. find these people in your life and be this person for others. without this becoming a complete cheese fest, these people are the types of friends that make all the difference.

watch hill, ny

September 1, 2015 Meg

I've had this post hanging out as a draft for a while, as in a month's while, always with the intention to finish it. Life has a tendency to get busy and messy, and full of people and places, and shoulds and shouldn’ts. And this space was never meant to be a chore. We have enough checklists in our lives as it is. But this little section of beach out on Long Island is just too good to keep to myself and with the summer season dwindling down, I thought it was high time to share.

Since the beginning of this year, I’ve mentioned multiple times about school starting this summer and life as I knew it would be turned upside down. (I promise, I'll stop mentioning it after this... I'm sick of it too.) And it was. But not nearly as terrible as I anticipated. Sure, my schedule was full and my days contained much less sunshine and nature than I would have liked but it was manageable. Adventures were still to be had; they were just a tad less frequent and a bit more organized.

It was a bit of a lesson for me as I am not much of a planner. I love spur of the moment, where ever one's heart leads kinds of escapades but I've learned that there is joy to be had in the scheduled getaway. When I felt the need to have some space to breathe or at the very least run away from the city heat, I reached out to see who was with me for some planned adventuring. Funny thing is people are more available (and willing) to go along with my shenanigans when I asked them in advance and have some sort of a thought out agenda. Fascinating.

It is no secret that I am a bit obsessed with the beach. I need sand beneath my feet, sun on my skin, and salt in my lungs. Therefore it should come as no surprise that every chance I got, my scheduled fun involved sandy shores and salt water. While it would have been easier to spend the day at the Rockaways, I've found myself drawn to Watch Hill this summer. Sure it requires a combination of train/car/ferry/boat but it's worth it. Let's just add it all as part of the adventure.

Watch Hill is part of the Fire Island National Seashore, a unique little national park off the southern coast of Long Island. It is magical. A quick 20 minute ferry ride across the bay and you find yourself surrounded by sand dunes and pitch pine. There are no automobiles (save for park rangers), few amenities, and limited cell service which means you can give the beach the undivided attention it deserves. Summer always seems to short and soon we will be faced with cooler temps and cozy sweaters. Why not spend the next few official weeks of the season soaking up the sun on a quiet stretch of beach to claim as your own?

notes:

- to have your own beach day at watch hill, take the lirr to patchogue and walk to the ferry terminal. a quick 20 minute ride will land you at the seashore. be sure to check the ferry schedule though - only a few run per day and you will have to make the trek to one of the westerly communities should you miss the last ferry.

- there's booze and grub to be had should you find yourself in short supply of snacks. unless you eat at the restaurant, you will need cash but don't fret the little harbor store has an atm.

fire island, ny

September 16, 2014 Meg

As a child, my summer was defined by the weeks spent at Fire Island. Early each morning, I ran down to the beach carefully taking each step of my stride to avoid splinters from the boardwalk. As soon as I saw my father crossing the dune, I dove into the ocean and remained there for hours at a time. Barely able to see from the salt stinging my eyes, I repeatedly dove back in allowing my body to be rocked to and fro from the oncoming swells, anticipating the next wave solely by the rhythm of the ocean. At the end of the day, my chest was heavy from the salt air and I would slowly make the trek back to the beach house. We spent the evening storytelling attempting to postpone the inevitable deep sleep brought on from the exhaustion of the sea.

I find the beach to be a source of rejuvenation; a place where the business of city and career can be temporarily forgotten as my focus is forced on the next set of waves. Every chance I get, I make the journey across the Great South Bay and escape to the beach. I have yet to grow tired of endless hours spent playing in the salty sea.

This summer I was fortunate to have a short term subletter, enabling me to spend some quality time on Fire Island. And fortunate for Grace, the beach house worked out with her life schedule so we made a date of it. Two trains, a cab, and a ferry later, I met Grace at the dock and we set out for the sand and the sea.

There’s something about the ocean that makes it impossible to not act like a 10 year old. So we didn’t even try. We gave in to the will of the sea and played with whoever would join us. September may be trying to convince me that it’s fall but I’ll be out in ocean soaking up these last couple of weeks of summer. Care to join?