Quiet Sunday on the Island

I dislike getting out of bed later than 7:30 a.m.  Even on a Sunday morning. Sleeping beyond 7:30 a.m. any day of the week is not a habit I have ever cultivated; in fact I have positively rebutted it.  It throws me.  I have things to do.  It doesn’t matter where I am, I have things to do.  Being on the Island is no different.  Normally I would be anxious to go bicycling.  Today however I put that item on the back burner temporarily.  The idyllic allure of a quiet Sunday morning strangely appealed to me. Besides I was still feeling bagged after having bicycled about 20 miles every day for the past three weeks.  I decided to do something “Sunday” by permitting myself the luxury of dawdling over coffee.

The idleness lasted until after lunch.  Then I succumbed to my usual need to do something more constructive than fiddling on the computer or watching television.  Fresh air has always appealed to me.  The temperature had dropped from what it had been for the past several days so I donned my heavy wool cardigan sweater atop my golf shirt and hoodie and pushed off on the bike.

It was evident as I rode along the pathways and through the golf course that it was a Sunday.  A lull had descended upon the Island.  The vehicular, bicycle and pedestrian traffic was all but non-existent.  The wind in the tall sea pines was all that one heard.  And the sound of my tyres upon the pathway.  When I reached the open beach it was vast and unpopulated, almost forbidding.  The grey skies did nothing to enhance the taupe colour of the beach.  It was a deserted aspect.  There was a northerly wind of about 8 mph, just enough to make me feel I was earning the reward of my exercise.  I leisurely pedalled to Coligny Park where there were people gathered in aid of some charitable fund-raiser (though for the life of me I couldn’t figure out what it was).  A family with small children had congregated at the end of the path leading onto the beach.  The parents were playing ball with the children.  They clearly had no intention of wandering much further towards to the Ocean which was at a considerable distance with the receding tide.

After parking myself on a bench, shutting my eyes and submitting to the tranquillity of the day for a few moments, I redirected myself to the beach for my return sail home with the wind at my back.  The entire outing had consumed about two hours.  I spent the rest of the day puttering before throwing myself into bed where I drifted off uncommonly quickly.