soothing the beasts

 

Magical places.

During this trip to my home town, the Pitame and I were happy to go to the Western Shore (that’s on the Maryland side of the Eastern Shore) near Solomon’s Island to visit friends who have known me since I was a little girl. There are some places on this earth that are truly magical; oh my, was it a treat to watch my son realize that Old Spout was one of those extraordinary places. On a high bluff overlooking the Bay, my son sank, mesmerised, into one of eight white loungers strewn along its length to catch the view. He sat, statue still, and stared at the sails weaving their picturesque way across the water. He stayed that way for ten minutes, absorbed, elsewhere, soul-filled and waiting. My father sank quietly into the chair next to him and put his arm around the little guy. It’s a memory for forever, etched into my mind by a calm of thankfulness for such a gift at this difficult moment in my personal timeline.

Old Spout is an old farmhouse, built in the 1700’s and added to twice in the hundreds of years since. You enter the property through a cathedral arch of birch trees sheltering a path of yellow gravel… there is no hint of the beautiful view behind the house. It’s just a friendly yellow farmhouse with wisteria and a porch swing. But there is magic there. True magic. The farm’s sweet water well was one of the last places sailors could fill their casks before putting out to sea: the well is still there.

We swam in the black-bottomed pool, perfectly warm, cool and refreshing, and just the right size for a tired mother and an adventuresome child. Brilliant blue sky punctuated by white, careless clouds. A perfect day for floating on your back and letting your thoughts sink below the waterline.

After a lunch of crabs caught fresh from the water (imagine that, living off the land), sweet corn, farm ripe tomatoes and cold soda, the kid found himself hanging out on the sunporch with my father and our family friend, a man of a certain age with no children of his own and little experience with small people. When finally I checked up on the guys, I found my father asleep on the chaise longue, while the kid and the friend were in an animated conversation about jungle animals.

Magic place. Boxwood mazes and crepe myrtle trees. Birds of prey making off with snakes writhing in their talons while grumble bees make slow work of an old, wooden birdhouse. Plenty of space to run, play hide and seek, look for shark teeth, or simply lay on your back and feel the earth tilt beneath you.