I saw Annie Heywood on the ferry. She took the opportunity to correct some inaccuracies in my reporting (she is not, in fact, trilingual but does speak three distinct dialects of Annie). And she related to me her newfound mythic quality on the island. Apparently people are eager to meet the real Annie, as they have imagined her as many things, but to touch the actual being would validate her authenticity. Henceforth, Annie shall be known as the Chappy Unicorn ... a rather verbose unicorn. She is real, I assure you, but must be witnessed to be believed.

Speaking of mythic characters, Meg and her new beau, J.M. (I don’t think he carries the C. anymore), appeared to me last week on North Neck as if rustled from the road by the wind. I was mowing our third fairway, a process less like what one might consider the cropping of foliage, and more akin to sandblasting. We’re proud of our sandplain grasses in all their nonirrigated splendor, but as such they are not abundant nor lush so they provide little barrier between my mower blade and their growing medium, sand. So cutting these grasses on my rider mower creates a sandstorm of sorts that Lawrence himself would admire. And because I am moderately courteous, I do attempt to pause my mowing when I am doing so in the presence of passersby. It’s my job, so the plume of silt that I create is quite alright for me to inhale, but I prefer to keep others clear of my traveling cloud of grit. So it was that I noticed the approach of a couple emerging from the dip in the road as it nears the golf course. They were mostly obscured, but since I do not discriminate between for whom I will protect from my mowing byproduct, I shut the blades down while letting the mower idle. I stayed like this for a moment, let the dust settle and pedestrians pass. Then, just as the last grains lighted back on earth and my vision cleared, two clouds parted ways, allowing the setting sun to bathe my walkers in heavenly light. And there they were: M.R. and J.M. I had paused close enough to them I suppose to raise the question of whether there was a purpose to my pause (other than the courtesy). Did I want to chat? Admonish? Cry? Not today.

But I do imagine that J.M. was encouraged not to find out. And though my lipreading skills have diminished with age and the accumulation of so many other more dominant attributes, I am largely sure that “That’s him” was uttered. So they passed quickly, with a wave and a smile (and a discernible sense of urgency). I sat there for a while more, the machine vibrating its patience beneath me. My face black. My back sore. Thinking of my place in the world.

My reunion went well. Old friendships renewed or at least revisited. Kim says that you can’t go home again but that you can go back. Home. I think she’s right. Because while there is no value in trying recapture the essence of what once was, one can visit it — sit in the chair of its feeling.

I did wait for Lady’s arrival, an arrival that never came. So I entered the banquet room alone, no wildly behatted chanteuse on my arm. But all the better. As Peter Wells reminded me, “There are no lies at reunions.” True, only uncorroborated stories. And with no one to dispute my claims, I was quite wonderful indeed. Peter also said there was no other hope but false hope . . . but that was uttered at 11 at night with a CIA meeting still looming on the morning horizon. So maybe there is a glimmer of true hope today. Such is a Chappy summer — home and foreign, hopeful and rueful.

Of course being off-island for over 48 hours, I am hardly qualified to write this week’s column. (Some argue any week’s. Shame on you.) I have missed so much news! Surely, an osprey circled overhead for a half an hour — screeching at its mate not to forget the milk this time (while the mate already was forgetting). And most definitely someone walked their bike onto the wrong side of the ferry, tripped on their fallen helmet, and stumbled to the correct side, hitching their bikeshorts to an uncomfortable angle. But perhaps most noteworthy and missed by this correspondent’s eye was the awkward meeting of crow and seagull over a scallop dropped atop a skunk part. You first. No, you first.

In real news:

The Chappy Open Space Committee is leading a trail walk on Monday, August 15 at 10:30 a.m. beginning at the community center. It is a circle walk going through the marshes and beech trees of the Knight property, past the cemetery, through the meadows, woods and ponds of the Self’s Cove Meadow property and back again. If anyone feels they would like to do just half of the walk, there will be transportation available at the cemetery for the ride back to the CCC. The walk will take two to twelve hours depending on whether you are an adult or a possum. Bring insect repellent. Further information, contact Joan Adibi.

Also! The fourth annual all-island table tennis tournament is scheduled Sunday, August 14, 11 a.m., at the Chappaquiddick Community Center. Sign-up begins at 10 a.m. Players of all ages and skill levels are invited, equipment is provided; no fees to enter. Three new tournament quality tables will be used. Prizes, pies from Morning Glory Farm, will be awarded to match winners in a round-robin format. Contact is Bob O’Rourke, 508-627-7902.

And in CCC news:

The community center’s annual meeting is on Saturday, August 13 at 9 a.m. All are invited to attend

On Tuesday, Davis Shingleton is organizing an old-time bluegrass music jam. Bring your instrument or come and listen. Call him at 410-262-8162 for more information.

On Wednesday, the three-time Boston Music Award winner Sol y Canto will give a concert starting at 7:30 p.m. Before the concert, starting at 6:30, there will be slushies and chips with guacamole and salsa. The Amador family will feature bilingual songs with diverse Latin roots, composed by Sol y Canto’s Spanish guitarist and MacDowell Artist Colony fellow, Brian Amador. Sol y Canto lead singer/percussionist Rosi Amador is known for her crystalline vocals, her joyful bongo playing and her illuminating translations of Spanish lyrics. As their special guests, their twin daughters, Alisa and Sonia, who have been singing with their parents since the age of four, will join them on vocals and guitar. Chappy audiences should expect dazzling four-part vocal harmonies. Tickets at the door are $8 adult, $5 ages five to twleve, and under five free.

Tonight, Chappy Movie Night features A Bothersome Man (Norway) at 7:15, free. Next Friday, the film will be Man on a Wire. All are welcome. Next week is the last week of sailing and art classes. Tennis, yoga and the other classes will continue. The Craft and Farmers’ Market is every Wednesday, from 4:30 to 5:30 p.m.