Communing

We head southward to get in on a 4 p.m. wine and cheese reception, one more perk at Cove Point. 

We walk into the lodge and are immediately greeted by a staff member.  “Would you like a glass of wine? I’m serving blush, white and red.”  I take white and Bruce selects the merlot and we head to the Adirondack chairs closest to the lake, where we talk about the great day we’ve had.  Shaina catches a quick catnap in a nearby chair.  The sun is still bright, the air still warm, but drier than it’s been, and we soak in the quiet broken only by the sounds of nature — waves crashing on the shoreline and birds in the air.  There is something magical about this place. Perhaps it’s the communion — with nature, with each other, with our Creator.

Maybe some of the magic is that there is no cell phone service, except on the point on the other side of the cove.  We watch a mother pace with a cell phone on her ear while her two children hide in a little “cave’ created by an overhanging rock, then grow bored and begin splashing in the pools of water caused by spray from the waves.  As I start on my second glass of wine, they are joined by a young couple who arrive holding hands, but quickly separate.  Standing with their backs to each other, they begin pacing away from each other as if readying for a duel, each with a cell phone in hand, dialing voice mail.

As I go back for a third glass of wine, I make a mental note to remind Bruce to check his voice mail and the internet soon.

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