There's an island at the easternmost tip of Long Island, where the southern and northern forks split off from one another, about 3 hours away from the city, called Shelter Island. The only way to get there is by ferry and as you approach the island, it is the epitome of picturesque east coast loveliness: sailboats on the horizon, a breeze blowing in the air, a great swathe of green ahead on the island itself, as your eyes scan the water in hopes of catching a glimpse of seals as they migrate here sometimes. Some more reflections:
The sky was full of jellyfish clouds,
The sea was golden hay.
We lost our way on winding roads
That swam like fish away
And gleamed silver in the light
Hoping not to be found again
In the cool freedom of water
Where all motion and sound
Muffles and fades and here
at last you escape yourself
so you can find yourself
in the shade of Shelter Island.
No comments:
Post a Comment