Happy Labor Day, everyone!
In August, a blog reader bothered to comment on a very old post. It was about which Wellfleet’s kettle ponds are personal favorites. Anonymous wrote in the comment, “I figure Sven's must be Great Pond since he goes down on our private beach every year and sits in our chairs and enjoys the view without ever leaving even a note of thanks.”
It is true that during the spring, fall, and winter, we sometimes walk around the ponds. It’s quiet, peaceful, and deserted. No one is around. All the second-home owners have gone home to the city where they live. The beauty of the National Seashore is free for all to enjoy. The words “private beach” make no sense at such moments.
Sven, who is 73, sometimes gets tired and will rest while I take photos for this blog. And, yes, sometimes he sits down on a log, overturned boat, chair, or whatever happens to be handy. The world needs more generous-minded folks, like my husband. Private beaches do not exist in Sweden, his country.
Mean-spirited comments are very rare, thank goodness. At about the same time, I was contacted by a high school friend who found me through an ad for the bed & breakfast and calls herself a “fan” of this blog. Charlotte wrote, “I’ve just returned from the internet café in the little seaside town of Rapallo, in Liguria, where I’m staying for most of August. I went to check my e-mail and your daily blog entry. I don’t know how you do it. All the hard work and long hours in running a successful B&B are truly admirable. You’re a veritable Wonderwoman!”
You can easily guess which comment made my day. Much nicer to be compared to Wonderwoman than criticized for trespassing, don’t you think?
