It's safe to go out again; take a trip down to the sea

This is what we’ve been waiting for all summer, the peace and serenity, or as the poets would say, the everyday hum of life. Returning back to some sense of normalcy, others would agree.

You see things differently. I never realized how wide open Rehoboth and the surrounding areas of Route 1 have become. The spaces are as far as you can see. The highway is empty, the stores have no lines and there is plenty of parking. It’s enough to make your head spin and give you some kind of aneurysm.

Okay, now I’m lonely. Where is everyone? It’s too quiet. A small bug splatting on the windshield makes you jump. Where is all the noise and shouting? Are people doing something I don’t’ know about? That means they are probably having more fun than I am, which if you know me is a given anyway.

Someone actually let me cut in front of him while I was driving the speed of sound in my car. Now that’s just not right! What is that all about? Not even a dirty look! The area resembles an episode of The Twilight Zone, where the guy wakes up after a nuclear blast, because he’s been in a bank vault robbing the safe of all its money, and when he goes outside no one else has survived. He’s left a million books in the public library, and because it’s the Twilight Zone, he steps on his glasses.

Sure, it can’t be that extreme but you have to wonder if the pod people did land during the night and take over bodies. The pharmacist has now gotten all friendly and happy. The clerks aren’t too busy to wait on you. Even the waves are so bored they’ve stopped all motion, unless someone coughs to remind them to go back out.

Gradually, I follow other cars on Route 1 to see where everyone is going, but then it turns out they are following me because they too can feel the isolation and loneliness. There is no one to yell at, no traffic to bite your nails over and worst of all, no major driving attitude.

Believe it or not, we do not take to change quickly. And by we, I mean all those who still have a full set of teeth. Seriously, we’ve begged for summer to be over, but it was too steep a drop this year. We built up such anger and road rage, we can’t do without it. We are like drug addicts prowling the streets, looking for one more distracted driver, one more rude gesture or at the very least someone turning without a turn signal on. Is it so much to ask?

We are creatures of habit. It’s just like converting your lightweight summer wardrobe over to those heavier winter colors and fabrics. Some people never get it. You’ve all seen that guy at the post office or bank in December, snow falling off his head and eyelashes, but still wearing those Bermuda shorts and running shoes.

And we’ve encountered women in the summer still encased in long black skirts and boots. They either haven’t looked at a calendar, or they just keep going to a lot of funerals.

But there is one area of this resort that never changes. And that is the beach. On this day, the sky woke up and smiled into a blue cerulean palette. It accented itself with white puffy clouds. Someone was flying a kite, its multicolored triangle and tail bobbing and weaving as they giggled. Some people walked the sand, heads bent, looking for that perfect seashell or stone.

There was not a hint of technology here as old friends greeted each other and young children ran in circles chasing sea gulls. The air smelled fresh and the sun warmed our cheeks. The planted sea grasses swayed gently to their own music.

You didn’t need anyone here. You could be alone and not alone. All your needs were met if you had an appreciation for Mother Nature and all her wonders we so often take for granted. There will be crowds again, noise again and angry drivers. So enjoy it while you can, and take yourself down to the sea.