I share the edge of the paved road with looming sand dunes as I find myself walking slowly towards my destination. Usually, I ride my bike to work, but today I wanted to wander along at a slower pace to take in the beauty of my surroundings. The field of blueberry bushes quickly demands my view. The bushes are so overloaded with berries this time of year that they take on a blue-green hue. Even though I will be tired, I remind myself that I must pick a few to eat on my walk home.
The sky is a deep royal blue with no clouds overhead this morning. I pull my sweater tighter around me as there is always a sea breeze blowing and this morning it seems stiffer than normal. I see an American flag almost bending its pole as it is fiercely blown with the sea breezes reminding me of the folks that live here-a hearty, tough bunch proud to be American.
Few in number, the salt and wind-beaten cottages, complete with their gray-weathered shingles and stark white trim, are appearing in my view over the next little hill. This is my favorite part of the road. These little beach cottages dotting the sand as their winding sand walks and drives curve around the dunes making their entrances hidden. Sea grasses beautify the hills and move effortlessly in unison with the wind. I can see the sea now. It is in the distance, but with every step I take will move closer.
As I approach the main road, the familiar sight of hundred year-old buildings housing shops and restaurants now crowds my view. I can hear and see the hustle and bustle of the shop owners getting ready for their day. The sea sits calmly behind the buildings that line the street. Docks and piers crawl out into the bay welcoming the fishing boats loaded down with their early morning catch. Commercial Street is just that, a busy street where all the shops and restaurants are located. I love this part of my trek as my senses are awakened welcoming the start to my day.
As I travel closer to the middle of town, everyone around me remains busy. Trucks line the small street, unloading their products to refill the shelves. Shop owners are jiggling their keys and opening the old wooden doors as they greet their neighbors. Some are out watering their flowers that fill the colorful window boxes hanging from the windows. Others are sweeping the front stairs and sidewalk or carrying in the newspaper. Many have stopped by the stately stone bank sitting on the corner to deposit their well-earned money from the day before.
The smell of freshly ground coffee and pastry wafts through the streets and fills my perked up senses. I stop by my favorite Portuguese Bakery to grab a warm gooey bun and hot coffee. I need the warmth of a little hot coffee to thaw my fingers and face that I suddenly notice are exceptionally cold for an August morning. Drinking the warmth as I continue down the street, I see no tourists yet. They are still sleeping and dreaming peacefully in their seaside cottages. Even without them in the streets yet, it is noisy and busy this time of the morning. Knowing it will be busy today as tourists are getting in their last bit of summer vacation on the cape, I take in the sights around me for one more stolen minute before I enter my little shop.
In stark contrast to today, our little town will soon become extremely quiet and ghost-like. Along with the autumn leaves comes the colder weather with the harsh northeastern winds that will finally usher out all the visitors. I yearn for those days as the pace slows, and my tired body has time to recover, a time when the shop owners will finally be able to visit with one another and rekindle their friendships. But for now, I must take this moment and savor my love for this little seaside town, Provincetown, as well as the colorful people in it, including the vacationing tourists.
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