My day. Last full day at Ferry Beach Park Association started with a cup of coffee on the beach as my bagpiping friend summoned the sun and saluted my ancestors homeland. We gathered for our last chapel in the echoing majesty of the ocean pines to the sounds of "Amazing Grace" on the pipes, bookended our week with a different hymn to Sibelius "Finlandia", sang "We Shall Overcome" hand in hand and "Amazing Grace" when no one was ready to leave.
I spent time on my bike, sat in on the Writer's Group, shared a few guitar tricks in DADGAD tuning with a revered elder, stood in the pounding surf having wonderful conversations. I sat on our dorm porch at 5pm with my daughter and 3 other young ladies playing and singing old songs for nearly an hour, two fiddlers, a guitar and a uke.
We had one last group dinner and sang boisterously together one final night, led by the college-age contingent who've grown up with this as their tradition. A parade, a closing spiral dance, a bonfire with s'mores.
To say that I've had a great day seems so terribly inadequate. Those are the only words I can summon up. I am such a lucky man indeed. I am humbled with my richness.
A special Ferry Beach moment from a past time - Dick Scobie with his bagpipes, serenading the paddleboarders in the bay mist, and entertaining one curious little girl.