Bluetooth notwithstanding, I decided to find a place to park and settle in for a chat. I chose the harbor because sitting by the water is a perfect start to any day.
There wasn’t much to see on this Monday after Christmas: a few pickup trucks in the parking lot; four of five empty boats tied to the pier, barely bobbing on the calm sea; the hazy sun trying to peek through clouds that threatened to turn gray. Weather predictions were for a bit of sleet and freezing rain, the first of the season so no one could complain.
After a few minutes, a small white boat appeared; a young man in full yellow slicker regalia (pants and jacket) steered it to the dock. Two other young men also in full regalia (though they’d selected orange) leapt from the boat and tied it up. Then their work began.
In perfect harmony (They’ve done this before, I thought. Like every day in season), they hoisted one large plastic tub after another from the boat and carried them to two waiting pickup trucks: a silver one, a black one. That’s when I saw the contents: scallops.
I finished my call and drove off on my post office mission, very much aware of the decreased number of vehicles on the road (I saw three in a mile-and-a-half), and of the increased number shops that now had CLOSED signs in their windows. I made it to my destination (love all the cards, folks, thanks!), then headed down Upper Main Street back toward home . . . until I reached the fork in the road at the Edgartown Seafood store.
And there it was: a silver pickup that I’d swear was one of those that had been at the dock. Imagine that. And I’d swear there was at least one less bucket of scallops in the pickup bed.
I smiled, pulled over, and snapped this pic (sorry for the gray sky) to serve as a reminder that I should go back around 3:00pm and pick up dinner. I think those beauties should be shucked by then.