by John R. Greenwood
As the miles between home and destination add up and the scenery changes from familiar to vaguely my pulse rate eases off the throttle and my mind drifts to distance places far off shore. Arriving at our destination brings with it a sense of remoteness and satisfaction. Never having been a traveler of consequence, three hundred miles might just as well be a thousand, and any fresh vantage point an uncharted isle. Every corner of my peripheral is constantly scanning from dusk to dawn, from shore to sky. After a week of last minute preparation and cash transfers the journey began. We all have our own opinion of what constitutes a vacation or a getaway. For Mrs. G and I it leans more toward getaway, although the primary definition of getaway means escape or quick departure after committing a crime. I hardly think taking up two parking spaces at CVS constitutes true crime. In the end informal vacation suits most of our getaways to a tee. Our autumn adventure found us in a second floor suite with a busy view of Hyannis Harbor. Nothing fancy but the ultimate in convenient. I snapped the picture above as our day came to an end and the hopes of a rainless Friday was at the top of our wish list. See you in Nantucket.