July in Manomet

Summer days of July in Manomet are particularly hot this year. It’s rare that temps are in the high-80’s and early-90’s for two solid weeks. Primal feelings take over and one needs to be near a body of water during the day, and for as long as possible. I think to myself sometimes that Manomet is a gift from nature, a treasure beyond words. Sea life, bird life, and lots of green; waterfronts, lobster traps, and fishing; flip-flops, tank tops, and ice cream cones; beach roses, and blue-green water so clear that you can see the striped bass swimming offshore.

Lazy days spent at the beach are indulgent and wonderful things even if you’re the type to simultaneously wrestle with the guilt of lounging. There is a sleepiness and restfulness to this area. It even permeates my house…guests emerge from their slumbers with that surprised-to-be-so-well-rested look. Hot summer days of vacation are for rolling out of bed and into whatever beach attire you’ve developed. The shoreline differs from year to year, the last storms of spring tossing up more sand, or, as is the case this year, removing a few feet of it. A beach towel isn’t complete until after a day spent in sand and being trampled by sea water and sunblock. There is a smell to a beach towel that has been at it all day - a smell I remember from childhood…warm cotton mixed with salty sea breeze.

The Lobster Pound: I have to agree with my 14-year-old niece when she looks at me squeamishly and asks, “Are there live creatures in tanks inside there?, and do I have to look at them?” And no, you don’t actually have to look at them – I know that I try to avoid it! What I do look at is the wet floor from melting ice, the fresh seafood, the crabcakes, fishcakes, and chowder. For whatever reason, I need to munch on a fishcake (made from salt cod) from the Lobster Pound – I don’t even heat it up – I eat it on the Point while looking out at the seagull on the big rock. I never crave salt cod but something possesses me when I’m standing there inhaling the Lobster Pound essence. Liz at the Lobster Pound (“Lobster Liz”) is worth the trip. A vivacious mother of five, with smiley eyes and a friendly in-your-face approach, I can talk to Liz for nearly an hour. I come here for the good feelings and for the inspiring overlook. It is a view that prompts opposite thoughts in me: “What am I doing with my life?”, followed by, “Wow, those are gorgeous beach roses!”