Snow in Salt Air

     A little more than twenty years ago, I spent an entire week on a small island off the coast of Rhode Island ...in January.

     Alone.

     Just to think. 

 

     I arrived on a ferry the day after a severe ice storm. I remember the huge ropes they used had been dragged inside the ferry to thaw out from being frozen solid. Normally, I would be outside up in the bow feeling the boat hit the waves and dodging hungry seagulls. But it was still ridiculously cold and the deck was icy. So I rode inside, the only person on the ferry besides the crew. I think maybe the mail travelled with me. 

     It was a small island. Upon arrival the ferry captain offered to make a call to find me a ride, but as I could actually see my accommodation from the harbor, I declined and walked, dragging my wheeled suitcase behind me over the slippery road. 

     I stayed, mostly alone, in a three story Victorian Bed and Breakfast.  My only real companion was the owners big orange cat. I only closed and locked my door when I left for the day, so the cat took to hanging out in my room and even slept on my bed a night or two. The owners daughter came in each morning to check on me and make sure I had everything I needed for the 'breakfast' part of the deal. I wouldn't have cared if she showed up at all. There was a pub or two open where I'd eat my dinner most nights, and a small grocery store.
 

     I spent the week reading and wandering the island...Took a stroll to the island cemetery where I found graves from the 17th century and deer tracks in the snow. At some point in the week I stopped by the local library and they knew who I was...'the girl who's been walking the island'. 

     One day, I walked to the cliff side. At the top of the cliffs you can look out across the Atlantic. The sun was filtered through clouds, making it look like moonlight in midday. I took off my winter hat so the wind off the ocean could blow through my hair. It was my personal earthly heaven. 

     However, my favorite moment was on about the third day. Walking on the beach, bundled up from the cold, I looked down and saw the only footprints in the sand belonged to me and the seabirds. Then as I walked, it began to snow. I spun around and around on the sand with my arms out wide, taking it in...enraptured.  It was a gray day, yet it sparkled...with beauty...with possibility. The smell of snow in salt air is now indelibly printed on my writer's soul...yet words can never fully explain. 

     Breathing in salt air brings clarity. When I left the island eight days later, I knew I was going to head off into a new life...alone...centered...sure of my power. 

-Kim