We’re having quite a storm here on the Outer Cape tonight, with heavy rain, temperatures only in the upper 50′s, and 50-mph wind gusts. At dusk we went to Newcomb Hollow beach, where the Atlantic was foaming white halfway to the horizon, and the northeast wind was so fierce that I could hardly get the car door open.
Now it’s late, the house is quiet and dark, and the pine trees outside are whistling and moaning. The gale is alive and full of sea; when I go outside it feels as if I’m standing on the deck of a ship.
Out here, on this slender wisp of sand, the great ocean all around you never lets you forget that you, like Cape Cod itself, are just a fleeting thought.