rainy day on 6a

            I’ve heard before that sometimes you have to leave a place or a person to appreciate its/their true beauty. After five years away at college, away in the world, I’ve come home to live on Cape Cod. I came back seasonally to live at home and save money working in the summer, but this time it’s different. I’m a college graduate and I’ve moved home after living out of a backpack for five months, traversing a new and foreign continent. I’m looking at the Cape through completely different glasses and I’m seeing lots of sunshine, even in the clouds and rain and muggy summer weather.

            Yesterday as I drove down route 6A, Cape Cod’s oldest and most scenic main road, I was mystified. Maybe it was the soundtrack of Kid Koala’s distant, blurry, and jazzy tunes floating around in my car. Or maybe it was the freedom of the day, one open for exploration and new conversations. Maybe it was the fact that I had just been reunited with one of my best friends. But through the misty rain, I found myself smiling both inside and out.

I stopped at a handful of places I’d seen or hadn’t noticed on the curvy, tree-lined road. I took a few unexpected turns, letting my impulses lead the way, and wandered into beautiful boutiques filled with love and thought and art and creativity. The HandcraftHouse tickled my fancy from the moment I pulled into the parking lot. Heavy wind chimes reached inside of me and touched my bones, singing to me through my ears and each of my cells. Decorative wind-swept rusted iron trees reminded me of nature’s elements, and the power of endurance and patience leading to inevitable change. I smiled at these inanimate objects that seemed to me so full of life, and delighted in the imagination and care that went into each of their stories.

            Then I meandered down the road to Dennis, where I stopped by the Cape Cod Chathouse, an adorable house refurbished into an art gallery and meeting place. It is tastefully and minimally decorated with simple and beautiful furniture, deep colors, and framed artwork. I sat in a window box with a big cup of lemon ginger tea and listened to the rushing of cars down the wet road mixed with an eclectic mix of Led Zeppelin and Madeleine Peyroux. I sat and thought and smiled to myself and wrote and read a little bit and felt content and lucky and sent some vibes of gratitude to the present moment.

            It’s not too often that we find our days so open-ended, I know, but I think a day is made great by beginning to notice and appreciate the little things. You may be stuck in the hot summer traffic, but maybe you can find a great song on the radio with a positive message, or find some wonder in the brilliance of the green in the leaves on the trees. It’s all about how you open and shift your mind. And good news friends—you’ve got the power.