(ibwsgolf@aol.com) The weather seems to know. Now is the time to rain. Now is the time to mark the passage of one season to the next. Seasons on Chappy follow less the Roman calendar than they do the school schedule. I was young once (though from my picture in last Friday’s Gazette one might not believe it. My personal take on it is that I look as though I was rudely transported from the cozy confines of my coffin in Romania to the Big Camp kitchen. If you look closely, you will see bats behind me). Back then, school started well into the first week of September. Now schools, so eager to reconnect with their knowledge-thirsty students, open their doors in late August. Thus the exodus from the Island now starts as early as mid-August. But the Island does not truly delve into its fall clothes closet until the Island kids start up school. You take away the kids from any environment and there is a quiet and a stillness that is tangible. With the change in seasons and weather comes the inevitable sleepiness. There is little opportunity to rest in the spring and summer, what with the demands of the wealthy pressing on our clocks and flattening out our free time to a thin sheet of nothing. But now, the rain and the wind conspire to whisper in our ears “Sleep now. Close your eyes.” “But it’s only 2 p.m.” “Shhh. Sleep.” And is there any better place to sleep than a Chappy bed, atop the covers, the breeze your only blanket? Just as some boots are made for walking, Chappy is truly made for sleeping. I believe that fewer people venture out at night on Chappy than anywhere else. There exist intentions, but the effort to stand, drive and take the ferry can seem overwhelming when seated on one’s porch on a Chappy evening. The lure of the bed is strong, and there is no better place to be than the here and now of Chappy. I remember my first night’s sleep each summer on Chappy as a child. The slightly damp sheets, the itchy wool of the blanket folded at the bunk bed’s foot. And the smell. Moth balls and must. Perhaps there is no less-likely combination of smells to raise one’s spirits, but they did each summer. Musty is so much different than mildewy. Musty is blankets and beach towels stored in cedar chests. Musty is sand on concrete made damp by a salt breeze. Mildewy is pent-up sogginess and sharpness. Musty is all round corners and memory. For me, those smells of a Chappy bed were an aphrodisiac. I’d awaken once again in love with Chappy. Speaking of wet fabrics and that unique Chappy experience, I found myself fully clothed and swimming the channel from Chappy ferry point to ferry point not long ago one late night. I do not recommend this activity nor do I condone it, but the water was so still, the current slack and the hour so late that the idea seemed feasible. I am not much of a drinker these days, so late nights are rare, but I was with friends (a rarity in itself) and though I was sober, they were not. To leave at my midnight curfew seemed a cruel punishment to my rebelling friends. So I stayed. And stayed. Until even the launch had bedded down. Friends went home, offering their homes to me, but there was only one place I desired. My bed with the Hudson Bay blanket. So I swam. Fully clothed. I am not wealthy enough to disrobe and hope that my clothes will remain where left the following day, and my sweater was quite expensive. So I brought them along for the ride. Everyone did quite well. And my sweater, after a gentle washing and line drying, was better than ever. Quite possibly a treatment that clothing companies may want to consider for their finer fabrics. This sweater now seems tougher and softer all at once. And kudos and thanks to the delightful EB and LB at the Great Put On who assured me upon purchase of said sweater that it would withstand the harshest challenges. Such honest lasses. In other news: Tai Chi continues at the CCC this Friday (today) and the following two Fridays as well. Sunday yoga will also continue through the month. Anyone interested in painting donkeys and elephants (with hypo-allergenic washable dyes) in the festive colors of the season and then mailing them (in hypo-allergenic luxury coaches) to their respective campaign headquarters with fruit and cheese baskets next Tuesday at the CCC is encouraged to contact Brad ASAP as space is extremely limited. On a related note, if anyone has donkeys or elephants that they would like to lend to the CCC for an upcoming event, please contact Brad.