Tuesday, November 06, 2012
Phoebe and I are spending some time on Cape Cod, where I grew up. I think living out west has changed me into someone who really can't stay here.
When I first got to Santa Fe, New Mexico, it felt like too small a place, and I wondered if I wouldn't like a bigger town like Albuquerque better. Not so. Santa Fe turns out to be plenty big, much bigger than the cape, culturally for sure.
The drabness and dreariness of Cape Cod in late fall is oppressive. No sun-dappled harbors; just pine trees, dead oak leaves, overcast, rain, and the sameness of the people.
The one upside - seafood. The best quahog chowder ever, better than you or I can make. Real fried clams. Real steamers. Striped bass.
But food doesn't make, or save, a place. This is not home. We are strangers in a strange land, and we both know it.