Only a couple hours earlier, watching all the leathermen get off the fastferry as I waited to get on, an ambulance pulled up to the boat. Apparently someone got sick/passed out, and there would be a delay; is this a sign I should stay? I didn't necessarily want to be part of leathermates weekend, but as these hairy smiling faces passed me going into town, I sighed. Why must I leave so soon? I biked, I beach-frolicked, bird-watched, picture-snapped, dunes-brunched, sunset-watched, chowder-slurped; in a hottub, on a bed, under a boatslip, and in the dunes there were other kinds of slurping. Head sunburned, feet blistered, crotch grabbed, butt - well, they tried, anyway. I laughed my ass off as a pair of seals appeared, swimming along the shore in the same direction as my barefoot hike, trying to snap pictures, having no problem keeping up with them until I exhausted myself and found a solitary spot up against the sand and ate the poorly planned meal i had in my backpack. And they appeared again, turning and diving, poking their faces out in my direction, and swimming off again, giving me another fit of laughter.
I was just getting started.