Before the sun set I needed to get a quick walk in. My arthritic body was feeling tight and stiff yet I knew I needed to get my heart rate up. I took a few moments to lace up my sneakers. Before setting off to the west I stood silently for a moment taking in the sea and listening to the red-winged blackbird sing in the marsh behind me.

I watched the waves form perfect tubes and crash along the shoreline. It is a sound that makes me think both of our seafaring forefathers and the next generation who also hear the calling of the surf. It’s both a way to enjoy the pleasure of riding the waves and a means to place food on the table.

The taste of the salt in the air combined with the sprinkle of rain from above calls to me and dances visions of days gone by through my head. I think of those who shared stories, local terminology, mementos (I still have them) with me before they departed this Earth. Uncle Bob Flanders, Herbert Hancock, Jimmy Morgan, Eric Cottle, Rasmus Klimm, Hershel West, Louis Larsen, old man Lenny Jason to name but a few.

They shared creative ways to make due when you don’t have that certain something you think you need. They shared how to play practical jokes, get red in the face angry and remain friends. They shared terms like eastern set when describing the Elizabeth’s on the days they appear tall as mountains and old lady bing bong as a way to describe someone who’s name you cannot remember.

It was right around now, after taking my 1,000th or so step, that I realized I was deep in thought and composing what would be my column in my head. It also occurred to me that I might not have anything particularly newsy to share, but somehow that felt alright.

I’m putting a lot of energy into trying to remain a “glass half full” kind of gal as we are surrounded by the sorrow of a pandemic. Focusing on a slower pace and stealing away moments of contemplation and reflection have kept me grounded. I’ve also appreciated communications with friends and neighbors. Somehow communications seem more important than ever now.

My neighbor texted she was short on eggs. I had a dozen to share. My son ran them down and placed them on their stone wall — our chosen spot for exchanges. This may not seem newsworthy, in fact it may seem sort of mundane, but what was so important about these 12 eggs was the beautifully written and colored thank you note I found pinned to a tree in my driveway. Thank you Nell and Mae Thompson. Receiving your artwork was the highlight of my day. It takes center stage on a wall in my kitchen.

Clarissa Allen has lamb available at the farm. You can give her a call at 508-627-1508 to place an order. Be sure to ask what else they have available. Periodically, there have been greens available alongside their little pullover spot by the farm entrance so I’ll bet they may have some other goodies for purchase.

For those of you wondering where to find a copy of the Phase 1 Return to Work guidelines, they are posted on the town website. Additionally, if you’re not too tech savvy, there are a few hard copies available on the town hall porch. These guidelines were worked on tirelessly by a well-rounded group of volunteers: tradesmen, board of health members, etc. Once in draft form, the wording was approved by town counsel and then discussed at two publicly posted joint Board of Heath and Board of Selectmen meetings and ultimately approved. There are hoops to jump through for the continued safety of our community members, so please continue to exercise caution and follow the guidelines clearly.

After a brisk walk, many moments of mind clearing contemplation and composing this in my head, I found myself ready to end the day as the rain clouds pass quickly overhead.