Cape Cod Copes - Part 1

by Multiple contributors

The MainSheet would like to encourage anyone with something to say about their experience during this time to submit their writing to [email protected] for review for this column. We’re all in this together!

The Brilliant, Yellow Bulbs of a Stranded Salamander in the Nocuous Frost

The frigid air started to fiddle with my senses as my two Scottish Terriers managed to jet out of the back-slider door to our backyard. My eyes were tied to the firm, ferociously frigid ground – it seemed to be scarcely cordial and pliable at all, now that the end of November blew in. The guile of the insolent volley between the cold and warm temperatures made an uncertain heart. It exceeds my control. So much confusion has been coiled around the collective heart and it jostles my mind all the time. My breath blooms in the stiff air, this season’s only growth, as my dogs were racing toward the top left corner of the fence to peek at my neighbor’s black Labradoodle.     

A mere few feet away from the tall evergreen that our white fence embraced was a black mass with yellow speckles all over its body dragging itself languidly. I accepted the yellow’s admonition of prominent poison, but there seemed to be beauty in its poisonous pool of life. It had no definition from my eyes’ current placement, so I ventured toward it. I must know what it is! The frail black mass was a spotted salamander. This poor amphibian was so flummoxed by the flux in the temperature that it decided to regard the spasmodic climbs to the fifties and sixties as spring’s heartening presence. Kneeling on the ground and adjusting my head so my eyes could invite its eyes to ineluctable care, it became clear that it had a pittance of vitality left. I have to help it somehow! The ebbing enthusiasm in its eyes, which were fastened to the ground unwillingly, made my eyes spill tears. It is dying in the clutter of orange pine needles and strands of grass that are glued to its slimy skin!

Even though my dogs had been occupied by the faint barks in the vicinity, I ushered them to enter the house so I may tend to the salamander’s sepulchral slip. “Good boys! Here are a few cookies,” I said while tossing a few of the round beige cookies into their mouths. I rushed toward the slider door before they would try to escape to the backyard again.

Within the change of my composure, I rendered a plan that could salvage its life. On the left side of my house rests an outdoor rack full of shovels and many gardening tools. I hastily hefted the nearest shovel to race to the salamander’s side, whose resting spot had been five feet away from the edge of the back-right part of the fence. The suitable solution fell in the shroud of extraneous greenery, which is beneath the other tall evergreen trees that stand behind the incumbent barrier. I jostled the ground to scoop up this lanky life. The front limbs were being enacted again! Thank goodness! The relief rescued my paralyzed mind. “What are you doing?” My sister shouted this, thinking, at that moment, that I must be such a peculiar older sister, which has always been true in every regard. “I’m trying to save this stranded salamander!” I annunciated this with great force as the salamander’s transition needed to be graceful. We returned to our disparate tasks.

After the successful scoop, I planted him in that shroud, hoping the auspicious abundance could revitalize this dying amphibian. I think I shall check on him in an hour, but I have given it complete care through its profound stare into death.            

—Alexandria Zine

Loose Looks in Retail and Beyond

As I perused every clotheshorse in Dedham’s Gap retail store, I noticed that certain parts of the initial COVID-19 protocols were no longer being utilized. Earlier this year, every employee had to wear gloves but that is no longer a requirement. There is also less rigidity when it comes to how many people walk toward the back of the story to access the fitting rooms. Initially, only about three to four customers could use the fitting rooms, and many of the rooms were sealed off to ensure that customers could socially distance. Since the month of November has been the big reveal of the nationwide surge in COVID-19 contractions and losses, I feel that every store will fasten their COVID-19 guidelines– many already have. Despite the fact that many conglomerates are currently embracing some flexibility, many have remained the same or collected even more stringencies.

Sifting through the vibrant winter pullover sweaters and cardigans, an elderly woman gravitated toward the rack and center table that I had been at. She walked drawly to the sweaters, wearing baggy light wash jeans and a thin navy-blue coat. For her COVID-19 armor, she had a pair of navy-blue latex gloves and the ubiquitous baby blue surgical mask. I withdrew from this area to allow her to shop with greater peace. I gazed at the seasonal faux leather bags that were hanging on a fixture about ten feet away from her to pass the time. In addition to two pairs of jeans, she grabbed a beige wool sweater with a high neck and a black chenille sweater.

It took around five to six minutes before she made it to the queue by the registers when she cut in front of a mother and her daughter. The mother and daughter pair were aware of her actions but said absolutely nothing. If they did, it was certainly inaudible. When the elderly woman decided to supersede the customers, who were already set in the line, she was merely about a foot away from them. For someone of her age who was donning the full COVID-19 gear, I did not suspect that she would do something so brazen. I thought she would socially-distance herself at all times. I suppose her resolve to save time outweighs the risk of contracting the virus, which leads flagrant risks such as this. Sometimes, the collective perception of COVID-19 has no clarity. 

—Alexandria Zine

Grateful for thanksgiving break

Thanksgiving is quite possibly my favorite holiday. The communion that the meal provides is the best holiday experience of them all, aside from Christmas. One of the quintessential traditions around this time of year is Thanksgiving football. This also unites all of us in a great communal experience annually. During the autumnal season, my family and I visit Plymouth to check out the Plantation and the Mayflower. It is great to have all of this history right in our own backyard, as Thanksgiving is certainly the hallmark of the fall season. It means a lot to my family and I, which makes this a strange year for our usual plans and festivities. It is unfortunate that we cannot gather due to the pandemic.

Being a history major and a big history buff, I think it is astounding to have such a major event in our country’s history right next door. Some people may not know that the Mayflower first landed in Provincetown with the first land that the Pilgrims explored being the outer arm of the Cape. First Encounter Beach in Eastham is the location where the Pilgrims initially encountered the Nauset tribe of Native Americans. The Mayflower Compact, an integral document in our country’s history as well as the first mention of self-government in the New World, was signed in Provincetown Harbor. One of my history teachers at Sturgis has been a Pilgrim re-enactor for some time and my dad has also worked with a woman who was a re-enactor. Despite the tendency that people in New England have to overlook Thanksgiving, it is a major event in our country that has had lasting repercussions over time.

The facet I am most fond of regarding Thanksgiving is the food. While we watch the Macy’s Parade in the morning, my mom always makes pumpkin muffins and cranberry walnut bread for breakfast. This remains to be one of my favorite family traditions. My dad is in charge of the turkey, which is always stellar. On the other hand, my mom makes exceptional mashed potatoes, which is my favorite part of the main meal. For dessert, hot pumpkin pie with cold vanilla ice cream is my favorite, too. The convergence of family and our experiences is also significant to me. Despite having a rather small family, we manage to see people who are visiting from out of state frequently, which is always a splendid occurrence. I’m not sure how we are going to get around it this year, but we need to find some way to include people who fall outside of the bubble that consists of our immediate family.

—Ian Cole

The Patriots Press on Past the Jets and Ravens

The Patriot’s season has been a bit rough so far. The loss of Tom Brady was devastating for me and accepting that reality has been arduous for me. As of recently, I think I have started to come to terms with it! I was extremely worried going into last week’s game against the Jets due to the combination of Joe Flacco’s game record and the persistent struggles within the Patriots unit. This game was the epitome of the season, a moment to define the course of the collective record so far. This is especially so with the fact that it was set on Monday Night Football and tailed their loss to the Bills. My dad and I stayed up to watch the game, which had been surprisingly stressful. Thankfully, the Patriots managed to come out on top, providing a much-needed win. They also forged strong momentum going into the game this week with Baltimore.

The Ravens have many great attributes such as their great defensive line, many great offensive options, and one of the best QB’s in the game today being Lamar Jackson. The contention between Jackson and Cam Newton was the major subject all week, as both QB’s are dual threats. They can throw the ball great distances, reposition themselves hastily and run like crazy. The teams going into Foxborough face an uphill battle with the wind, ceaseless rain and a previously brutal game for everyone. This was another stressful game on the biggest stage of all– Sunday Night Football. Everyone was discounting the Patriots. Mike Tirico was the only member of the NBC crew to count on the Patriots to win, and they had to provide a triumphant performance to truly prove themselves to the league and to the country.

Given the rush of the rain, most of the action occurred on the ground. The Patriots had 173 net rushing yards on the night, led by a dominant performance from RB Damien Harris. There were additional yards provided by RB Rex Burkhead, as well as QB Cam Newton. The Pats also had 142 yards of receiving, led by WR Jacobi Meyers with 59. Newton also threw a 24-yard TD pass to Rex Burkhead in one of the best trick plays so far this season. He also threw for 118 yards and ran for 21, stepping forth with the same intensity as his performance against New York. The violence of the rain made my family and I glad that we were warm indoors watching the game on the T.V. rather than in the stadium. Although, the rain and wind seemed to erase the clarity of the broadcast here and there. Despite the wild weather, we were ecstatic about the Patriots being in the lead as the clock ran down. I will certainly remember it for a long time!

—Ian Cole

Raking the Gifts from Barren Trees

One of autumn’s neutral activities is raking the leaves, which I suppose I always have enjoyed to some extent. It is a tranquil necessity, especially before the snow comes. When I was little, I used to spend hours helping out uniquely, mostly jumping into massive piles of leaves and looking for wooly bear caterpillars or old golf balls buried among the leaves. Today, I am undoubtedly helping out more than my younger self, taking multiple buckets and carloads to the dump in the Town of Barnstable. Organizing the chaotic leaves is much more of a challenge for my parents now as they do not have my stamina, nor do they have mobility for the motion of raking and bearing the weight of the collections of withered leaves of warm hues.

The transformation that the massive piles of leaves undergo at the dump within twenty-four hours is interesting. Nearly every opening around the two immense piles was taken by vehicles and trailers of all manner and size, bursting at the seams with even more leaves. Many had to dive into the task of managing the leaves’ spree quickly, especially with the wild autumnal weather this year. The dump that takes in the leaves has a massive bulldozer that can amplify the piles for efficiency. Then, they eventually move them back for their ultimate decomposition for the prospect of rendering massive piles of soil for gardening in the Spring. It’s an essential cycle that keeps a clean stream of growth and health for our ecosystem annually.

Not only does the primary environment benefit from this, but the force behind the circuit of kinetics makes for a great exercise. This is especially beneficial during this pandemic and the tendency to remain indoors during the frigid season of late autumn and winter. According to a few websites with guidance on at-home workout regimen, the process of raking the leaves continues to be at the top of the list. I could not imagine the process of hefting, moving and dumping large buckets of leaves to be anything less than a workout, albeit of moderate intensity. I am sure that the perception of its intensity varies between many. The combination of preening the yard and circulating my mind and body is comforting. Since snow is bound to arrive sooner rather than later, make sure to spend as much time outdoors as possible!

—Ian Cole

How COVID-19 has sorted Provincetown

Recently, I spent the night in Provincetown over a weekend. Driving there, as I got closer to where my friend and I were staying, the apparent darkness and death of the pre-COVID-19 atmosphere hit me deeper than ever before. I have never seen Provincetown completely dark at only 10 p.m. when it comes to activity. Due to new regulations, everything has to be shut down promptly and sooner than before to deter crowds from hanging around at the local bars and restaurants. To see Provincetown completely dark at only 10 p.m. on a Saturday night was very eye opening as to what COVID-19 has done to what we used to know and love.

Provincetown has always been one of the friendliest places I have visited. I have always noticed how easy it is for strangers to befriend anyone around them in Provincetown. This time around, I noticed how far others wanted to stay from strangers, changing the entire atmosphere of the town. Before the pandemic, I never could have imagined the world in the state that it is now, especially this town. I could have never imagined what Provincetown would look like completely shut down on a Saturday night, the peak of the weekend.

Now, it is hard to imagine what life was like before COVID-19; what it is like to be able to not fret about the virus while in the company of others. COVID-19 has left, not only Provincetown, but the rest of the world a complete ghost town. I wonder when and if we will ever retrieve that normalcy.

—Skylar Bradley

Zooming Past My Brain’s Maintenance

It’s been no secret that Zoom has been difficult for not only the students, who are dying to get back to campus and in person classes, but the teachers as well. I often find myself lacking the motivation to go to my online class and that is the easy part. I find it even harder to pay attention once I have made it to the class by the click of a few buttons on my computer. Staring at a computer screen all day can deeply challenge the teenage brain and, based on my own experience, the endurance of my attentiveness.

The walk on campus between my classes last semester provided more for me than I realized at the time. The walk broke up the time that I was in class for and prepared my brain for new information on a new subject. This made the task of paying attention to instruction infinitely better and easier. Motivation also came from knowing that as soon as my classes were done for the day, I would be able to hang out with my roommate and friends. There was ample anticipation for what I had planned for the rest of the day, outside of classes.

Now that we have been embedded in Zoom classes for so long, the days seem to blend together and drag on forever. The beloved, spontaneous get together with friends and family was the only thing I had to look forward to. Currently, that has mutated into little and sometimes nothing. Even though I have been struggling greatly with my lack of motivation and attention span during Zoom classes, I know that this situation is not ideal for my professors either. I think Zoom has brought us together in a sense that students and professors will continue to try their best in unfortunate circumstances. This unity glistens frequently and makes all of this feel a little more bearable.

—Skylar Bradley

A Bright Nightmare for a Hairdresser

At the beginning of quarantine and the apprehension that came along with it, I made the mistake of bleaching my whole head to achieve bright blonde streaks all over. This is something I had been working on but only with access to a hairdresser and a world free of COVID-19. Despite both my hairdresser and mother admonishing me of the regret I would harbor after this transformation, I, unfortunately, made the decision to go forward with dying my naturally brown hair bleach blonde. I’m sure you can already imagine where this is going, but I’ll tell you anyways. I certainly felt the bind of regret after I did it!

After a few months into quarantine and dying my hair, I started to develop an aggressive line where the expected growth of hair formed a discordant combination between bleach blonde and my brown roots. With hairdressers still being inaccessible at this point, my mom tried to fix my awful roots with boxed hair dye. Well, I soon found out that my hair does not take well to boxed dye! Instead of becoming a stronger blonde, my hair turned to a horrid shade of orange. At that point, I was sporting orange roots with bleach blonde ends.

Thankfully, my hairdresser finally started to accept clients back into the salon about a week later. Despite being a slightly nervous around the thought of being in the salon, I was able to revert back to the right color; my multicolored roots were history. Quarantine granted me the epiphany that it is best to keep my hair more natural for now. Now that my natural hair tinge is back, I do not have to worry about being shut off from the hair salon if collective quarantine is imposed in the future. This is a hair color that will survive any surprise quarantines that may lay ahead in the future. Since the world has proven to be very unpredictable, I plan on thoroughly contemplating any visions that I have. It is incredibly important within a world that is oriented around COVID-19 protocols and prevention.

—Skylar Bradley

De-stressing from Election Week

This past Friday I took a trip over to the Cape Cod Canal for a refreshing bike ride and election cool-down. It was 64 degrees, cool wind, and not a cloud in the sky. The fresh air was much needed, especially after stressing over such an election. Riding through the trails really opened my mind up to be worry-free and helped me feel like I was living in the moment. It’s easy for me to worry about “the unknown” or “what’s next,” that this short trip helped me put aside those thoughts. It was refreshing to be excited about the blue sky, just like I would be in the summer. I think it’s having the open space and riding next to the endless ocean that helped to open my mind. When I’m stressed, my mind is like a gloomy, rainy day, with trees covering any peak-through of sunlight there could be. At the Canal, my mind ran free and I had a great space to think because my worries could fly away into the open sky. I would highly suggest taking a trip to your favorite scenic place where you can have fresh air and your worries float away. Going back to my classes was much easier after my bike ride than it would’ve been after watching what seemed to be an exhausting, endless election.

—Giana Pollock

The Deplorable Pandemic Keeps Bookstores from their Warm Restoration

The peak of this weekend, Saturday November 7, reached the mid-sixties for the temperature. The yellow, orange, and cranberry red foliage swirled around with each other as the wind swept them from their tree branches. The motley of warm colors certainly complemented the astounding break in temperature for the month of November. Many leaves collapsed underfoot as I roamed around the Mashpee Commons. Threading the corner by the retail shop Puritans, my eyes seized the Market Street Bookshop. I crushed more leaves while walking toward its entrance. In front of the shop, there stood a ferocious fountain corralled by weathered stones and three wooden benches. If I found one of the books that I’ve been in need of, perhaps I could settle in one of the surrounding benches as one would repose on a massive pile of leaves for momentary excitement.

“Hello! Just so you know, you must use hand sanitizer before you can grab anything. If you decide to touch any books, you’ll have to set it aside on this table for a time-out.” The bookshop owner gestured toward the puny round table at her side. A label that read “Time-out” had been taped onto the edge of it, in large enough text that it would be decipherable to incoming customers. “Thank you!” I hoped she could notice the smile that my irises tried to radiate. After pressing on the bottle of hand sanitizer for an unfortunately superfluous glob, I ambled toward the classic literature section, which adjoined four or five rows of children’s literature. I bent over to read the spines of the books, but it was no use. The highlight of going to a bookstore is one being able to cherish that tangible experience. It is a poignant addition to one’s day and one is able to read the prose or poetry immediately. It would be nice to support my local bookstores, but the exigent COVID-19 protocols steal the liberation that this experience reaps. The COVID19 protocols that serve as an additional dust cover for the connection between the books and their prospective consumers. I caved into my disappointment, avoiding the rest of the adult section of books, before heading to the young adult section. If I did not feel the resolve to find an intriguing book for myself, then I could inquire about a book that my sister has been longing to read.

Once I tightened the ear loops on my mask, I made my way back to the entrance for my inquiry. “Do you have Alias by Margaret Atwood in stock?” She adjusted her cobalt blue top before walking astoundingly quickly toward her computer. She entered the book’s title into the computer’s database slowly, but I did not mind at all. The white rack of calendars creaked as I accidentally bumped into it. My mind began to ponder the outlook of the current learning format. Time was just as blank as this rack, but kept peeling to show the subtle blackness, the abysmal repercussions of negligence toward the essential health protocols and the lack of a vaccine. “The book is in stock!” She adjusted the ear loops of her mask due to the apparent irritation that her red ear lobes revealed. I stayed put, as tailing her seemed to be not conducive to anyone. She returned from the maze of a dozen individual bookshelves with Atwood’s novel. “Will that be all?” “Yes! Thank you for retrieving the book for me.” “That’s why I am here! At least it keeps my day interesting now that fewer customers come to this shop.” She flipped over the book to scan the barcode, before I inquired about other changes regarding the cancellation of festive events. “I’ll be back soon, no doubt about that!” We let light laughter escape behind our masks, before I thanked her.

—Alexandria Zine

The Unalterable Imagination of Children in Hard Times

“Approaching my right turn, the copper and crimson leaves kept swirling around my car from the persistence of the autumnal wind. I pulled into Johnny Tube’s mechanic shop. I thought a Saturday morning should be an opportune time for a quick oil change. Just as I had hoped there was an opening in the middle lane, and so I pulled up to it, where a mechanic stood on the side.  “Is this all right?” “Yes, that’s all right, ma’am.” Given this, I shifted gears, left the engine on, and grabbed my book, phone, and wallet. I thanked him and walked around to the outdoor table that is in front of the shop in a section of luxurious grass. I despised using the indoor waiting room because the stench of the shop was truly awful. I didn’t like the raucous that comes from the task of mending the vehicles either.

My phone and wallet reposed in my lap as I read to replace what would be stale moments. I held a thrift shop copy of Charles Dickens’ novel Hard Times. It has a yellow cover with an orange rim around its edges, with a golden carousel horse, two old men in suits, and a young girl with a yellow dress and yellow tresses at the center. A few feet away from me, there was a metal bench that had lions, giraffes, and zebras weaved into the metal arrangement. It was adorable, especially since it sat beneath an immense tree, giving children the opportunity to admire it as they waited with their guardians.

I looked up from the pages to note where the mechanics were in the process. As I looked at the indoor waiting room, I noticed a mother with two sons sitting in the chair that adjoined hers. Earlier this morning, my mom mentioned that her coworker has been invited to a drive-by baby shower but is dealing with the chagrin of not being able to afford nor select the ideal gift during this pandemic. I couldn’t envision tackling parenthood during a pandemic. I couldn’t stop thinking about the mother and her two sons, as well as my mom’s coworker. These are unequivocally hard times for parents who are covet providing and preserving their child’s mirth as well as their safety. It doesn’t help that the children are losing out on socializing with their friends and fortifying their imagination. Right now, children need just as much of art and imaginative playing and storytelling as they do of the news and COVID-19 protocols.

I had made it through four chapters by the time a mechanic pulled up to the side of the shop’s entrance to signify that it was my time to head toward the front office to pay for the service. I packed up my belongings, walked to my car to shut off the engine, grab my keys, and to pay at the service desk, which is next to the indoor waiting room. As I walked in, I saw the mother’s two sons playing with each other, using their two action figures and the potted plant on the side table that held a selection of magazines for entertainment. I couldn’t make out the plot of their game, but I smiled. I smiled at the fact that they could still muster so much imagination and enthusiasm against the need to wear masks and keep away from others. There was only an old man on the other side of the room. I paid for the oil change and was on my way.”             

—Alexandria Zine

A Haircut, Finally

“After a very long couple of months, my hair was finally out of control. It was now spiraling down my back and past my waist. It was at the point where it was getting stuck in my jeans as I tried to tuck my shirt in. After much consideration, I decided a haircut would be the smartest option in my favor. Someone like my brother could wait. However, none of us anticipated a total shutdown at the end of the winter, so I did not prepare by getting my locks chopped. My hair salon had just recently decided to open their doors around the middle of July. It was one of the latest salons to open up, The Salon 16 West, in Orleans. I spoke with my stylist on the phone and he couldn’t get me in for about three weeks out. They’ve been receiving emails holding spots in their chairs since the beginning of the summer. However, I could wait, he’s been cutting my hair for years.

The day had finally arrived. Before entering the building, I had to call reception and they met me at the door with a digital thermometer. They took my temperature, normal, and doused me with hand sanitizer. They have a very strict mask on at all times policy, this was interesting when it came time to wash my hair. However, I did appreciate it since you are in such close proximity with your stylist. My stylist told me he had been booked up since the day they opened. We agreed on the fact that most people just couldn’t wait anymore. He had told me many people came in with hair they had accidentally botched themselves at home, as they grew impatient. His advice was that it is always better to just wait, rock those grown out locks. He was ecstatic that I had decided to come in, as my hair had become a “messy problem”, I did not disagree.

All of the stylists in the salon were required to take a “Barbicide Covid Safety Exam”, in order to come back to work. They all had certificates ensuring clients that they knew how to, and were actively, disinfecting all of their tools. They definitely were too, in between every step he would clean off his tools with this aqua blue colored concoction. It smelt like urgent care. Every client was meant to feel very safe in the establishment. They distanced out all of their chairs and would only allow 3-4 clients in the building at the same time, depending on their service, this would determine how well they could distance. It all ran pretty smooth except for the part where he washed my hair. This was tricky as the ear loops of my mask got soaked and ended up ripping. My recommendation to anyone who is planning on cutting or coloring their hair, bring an extra mask, especially if you’re using disposables.

I left that day with a whole foot less of hair on my head. I am usually somewhat sentimental about these things, but I was more than ready to say goodbye to my solid year of growth. My head felt five pounds lighter and my hair felt ten times healthier. A second recommendation would be to just wait until you can get into a salon to mess with your hair, especially if you’re as uncoordinated with a pair of scissors as I am.

“Who are you”, my friend Reed asks me when I get to her house after the salon. I don’t even think I know anymore. At first, I was nervous about the process of having to get my hair cut. But in the long run, I am glad I waited and went in, after a long couple of months it felt good to not only chop off my hair, but to be able to talk to my stylist and other clients there about their quarantine experiences. It makes the world feel a little smaller and more connected again. It showed me that we might all be dealing with quarantine differently, but at the core of it all, we are not so separated in this. We are all doing what we can to make the most out of the situation.

Hopefully places like salons will be able to keep their doors open. It was refreshing to see a small business thriving again after a very long spring. If you are nervous about getting your locks chopped, most salons are happy to answer any questions you have about their safety policy over the phone. Something as small as a haircut can serve as a reminder to most that we do have control over the little things during this.”

—Grace Rufo

Fall on the Cape

“Fall on Cape Cod is one of the things that I know I will remember most when I’m older and not living on the Cape. I have always had an appreciation for fall on the Cape because not only do we get to say goodbye to the tourists from the summer, we get to enjoy the beautiful scenery that surrounds us. We’re best known for our beaches here, and most people associate that with summertime, but  I think beaches in the fall are all the more breathtaking. I have been so lucky to grow up somewhere so beautiful, never living anymore than ten minutes from a beach and the colors of fall only add to the initial beauty of the Cape. I always make sure to appreciate summers on the Cape, knowing that others aren’t as lucky as I am and aren’t as close to the beach, however the beach never looks more beautiful than when there is a cold breeze and the trees are all shades and colors of fall. During the pandemic, we’ve all discovered a lot more free time than we’ve had before and this has allowed me to appreciate the small things in life. Cape Cod manages to be beautiful in any season, but recently, the fall has resonated with me as a peaceful season and provides the perfect scenery for long drives around the Cape.”

—Skyler Bradley

A Covid Halloween

“Halloween is one of my favorite holidays and sadly, will not be the same this year. Many people are saying that they will leave candy out on their front steps for those who choose to go trick or treating as a contact free method. Being too old to go trick or treating now, my heart breaks for those who still take part in all the festivities of the holiday. It certainly isn’t the same grabbing candy from someone’s front steps. These kids are missing out on getting to knock on a neighbors door, saying “trick or treat!” and the possibility of even being the victim of a potential jump scare or two. Although I am sad that kids this year will suffer from what may look like a rather lame Halloween, it is the safe thing to do to stay contact free from others on Halloween. I hope that others do still leave candy on their steps for contact free trick or treating, as a lover of the holiday, I would hate to see the world “cancel” the festivities of Halloween during this pandemic. My hopes are that contact free trick or treating will allow kids to still enjoy the best part of the holiday and add some normalcy to our first Halloween during a pandemic.”

—Skyler Bradley

Boston

“My best friend recently moved to Boston; right outside of Back Bay to be exact. I have spent time in the city before, but never as much as I have recently. Her apartment is adorable, comfortable, and perfect for a first time Boston resident. I go up there to clear my head, as strange as it sounds. Why would one go to a bustling, crazy city in order to clear their head. Well, sometimes it’s as simple as a change of scenery.

Cape Cod is beautiful, serene, and slow. It is a great place to grow up, or settle down. I was very lucky to be able to spend the bulk of my young years on this beachy peninsula. However, it offers less walks of life. Being in a place like Boston, you see people from every corner of the world; it is so international. While you see tragic things, such as drug abuse, homelessness, and crime; you also see beautiful things, like all kinds of art, schools, steeples, parks, families, and students learning their way.  In a world where staying home right now is priority in order to keep everyone healthy, it is also important to see people, places, and things, to remind ourselves that the world is still turning (with respect to cdc guidelines of course). Staying in is important, but never forget to explore while you can, and be excited to do so. While everywhere has restrictions in order to keep the virus at bay, people are doing their part to make sure everyone can get back out there and enjoy life again.”

—Grace Rufo

Socially-Distanced Escapism with Cars and the Night Sky 

“Since I knew that the finale of August would arrive soon, spending time with loved ones in an ideal way seemed to be my only priority. Honestly, people should not have to wait for a pandemic to take on a greater guardianship of life. This should always be the default for social injustices and environmental problems; it has always been my default. This was the circuit that I had been running on while jumping into the indigo blue Ford Explorer in front of the garage. Now, it was time to drive to the Wellfleet drive-in theater, and the essentials were all set for the trip. It was around 6:30 p.m. The managers there had picked an eclectic combination: Jurassic Park and Jaws. The digital receipt for our tickets, which was on my phone, was reposed in the cupholder. The vicarious life in a vehicle under the drape of the night sky would seem to offer so much solace. These films, and the mirth that they bring, precede a bulk of loss that is attached to this year. Art can occasionally give a reality that is more stable and just than what we currently have.

After pulling up to the official entrance to the parking lot, and being given our printed tickets, we laconically pulled up to a spot in the seventh row. It was one of the last rows with a green light at the end of it to indicate a few vacancies. Now, it was 7:40 p.m. Once the engine had stopped, my father kept adjusting the speaker that hugged the width of the driver’s door. The dull grey of the speaker hinted toward the effects of considerable weather and use.  Since it is the only operable drive-in theater on Cape Cod, and it has been in use since 1957, the vintage introduction and intermissions still appeared on the screen. Suddenly, there were cups of soda, chocolate bars, and buckets of popcorn rollicking on the screen, crooning about the showing of a film and the eventual intermission.

“Can you hear it clearly?,” my dad inquired, in order to ensure that my sister and I would not have to lean against the car’s interior in ungainly ways just to capture the audio and the video.

“Yes, we can hear it well enough,” I said softly, to avoid any interruptions. It did not matter, as everyone was concealed in their vehicles to avoid mosquitoes and to enjoy the comfort of partial privacy. Not to mention, the crickets in the woods that circled the theater were louder; but they enthralled me, in the sense that they might send me to sleep.” 

—Alexandria Zine

Among Us

“The age of social distancing has us missing our friends. We are lucky that in Massachusetts the states guidelines have been loosened, but of course we are all in different situations and some are more comfortable taking risks with interactions than others. But no matter what your status is in this period of “the new normal,” we’ve all been jumping on each new thing that comes across our paths that can help us pass the time while staying as safe as possible. From board games to outdoor hang-outs, even FaceTime calls have all been great options, but recently, my friends and I have discovered a new way to spend time together while not actually being near.

For those who haven’t heard of it already, the game is called Among Us. You can download it on your phone and use pretty much any voice communication service to talk to your friends while playing in a room together. 

The premise of the game is that you and your group are trapped on a spaceship with ‘imposters’ who are chosen at random to sabotage your mission and kill people. The task for the rest of the crew? Find out who the imposters are and eject them before it’s too late! 

If the impostors kill everyone or sabotage the ship before you can fix it, you lose. 

Players appear as tiny colorful characters which can be accessorized by a variety of different hats to wear. While it doesn’t sound like much, it’s surprisingly both fun and funny at the same time. 

For those who find themselves still sitting at home missing your pals consider downloading Among Us to have an exciting yet safe time.”

—Kalea Trudeau

Now Entering the Twilight Zone

“The decision to move to a state halfway across the United States was surprisingly the most normal thing that has seemed to happen to me over the course of these past few months. Since the beginning of the pandemic I have slowly (and mostly from the safety of my house) watched as Cape Cod’s year round population made strides in altering all of our previous societal and social norms to suit the safety of the public health. Something I, like most, have noticed with the return of our usual off-islander’s is the rapid rate of growth of COVID cases within our area. Usually you can spot a tourist through their outfit- garish vacation beach-button ups or the classic fanny pack- sometimes it’s just the cheery, not-so-New England attitude that separates them from the crowd, but this summer the sign of the tourist seems to be a general disregard for the country’s current condition through their lack of masks.

Since the beginning of this unprecedented time masks have been a symbol of compliance and care as those who wear it are not only protecting themselves and their own families, but the lives of everyone they come in contact with. 

It’s become evident that we as Americans share a general restlessness that comes with being locked in our houses with our families. When the country reopened I, like many others, jumped at the chance to get out for an hour or two and maybe even give a little back to the local businesses that are now struggling. As spring months turned into summer I watched as the outsiders took masks as a suggestion and not a requirement, and I listened to their conversations at restaurants as they made statements such as, “Well if I haven’t gotten it yet, how real can it be?”

When the opportunity arose for me to leave Cape Cod at the end of September to spend a year in North Dakota I was worried about the timing. Traveling during a pandemic was something I had complained about others doing yet I was about to do the same thing. I couldn’t let this opportunity pass though, and I had confidence in my abilities to follow the rules set out by officials and general common sense enough to keep myself and others healthy. Cape Cod has always been a place to me that has kept its residents in a bit of a bubble that usually pops once you go over the Sagamore bridge and realize that our small island is just one part of a larger picture. As the date of departure crept closer and the Cape’s cases continued to grow I couldn’t help but wonder how the rest of the country was dealing with this pandemic.

The answer? They’re not.

During day one of a three day road trip to North Dakota my grandfather and I made the decision to stop at Niagara Falls as I had never been. We figured it was an outdoor location that was too beautiful to bypass since we were already so close. 

We pulled just outside the park where you entered and found parking, there were no people around. As we entered the park I noticed a few small groups wandering around, they were mask-less but they were also far apart so I didn’t think too much of it until I walked further. Every step I took closer to the falls I saw the mass groups of people all standing practically on top of each other, sometimes bumping into someone that they didn’t know. Already after months of social distancing the sight of this felt uneasy but the most shocking part was the severe lack of masks. 

The first thing that ran through my mind upon seeing the sea of bare faces? 

“There is a fifth dimension, beyond that which is known to man…”

No, seriously, I truly felt for a moment that I was in the Twilight Zone. I sat on a rock for ten minutes as my grandfather went off on his own and I could not shake the odd feeling, asking myself and texting friends this same statement:

‘Did I just dream up a pandemic?’

There was hardly a mask in sight, and those who were wearing them seemed to think that hanging off one ear counts (it doesn’t), or that as long as one member in a group of ten has one it’s fine (it’s not). 

And after three days of road tripping through multiple states before settling into my new home of Fargo, North Dakota I have to say- that while masks are the new social norm on Cape Cod, the same is not true for, well, anywhere else actually.

And for the first time since this pandemic started a small scared feeling that I had been carrying with me turned to full blown fear as the future of our country’s health became more and more blurry right in front of my eyes- but maybe that’s just my glasses getting foggy because I remembered to wear a mask.”

—Cassie LeBel

Thrifting Through a Pandemic

“We pulled into the Waquoit Church parking lot on Saturday to flip through their eclectic conflation of records, films, books and other antique gems. It was a partially sunny afternoon, two hours before they would close the thrift shop until Tuesday of the upcoming week.

It seems that they have been sprouting densely from the wooden panels that lock the church’s verdancy of expansive butterfly trees and ordinary shrubs in the mulch bed, as two handfuls worth of these parasol-like growths continue to nurture themselves in the organic sustenance of their connections. I looked at the stone bench and the stone frog statue in the grass to the right of me.

There were four people ahead of my sister and I in the queue, and so I stood there juggling the mushrooms over and over again in my mind. Sylvia Plath’s poem “Mushrooms”became the primary channel or thought in order to tolerate the duration of our wait. 

One of the church pastors gestured for the next two individuals to enter from that red, ‘L’-shaped, brick pathway, to the right of their second building, which brought us down to a side entrance that stood by a faded white door enshrouded by old cobwebs that were, at some point, abandoned. 

After roughly ten minutes of standing beyond the entrance, we adjusted the ear straps of our masks before finally entering the shop. My sister rushed over to the black crates containing both old and new records, while I looked at the films and classic literature selections that adjoined them.

“What do you think of these records?,” my sister mumbled to me as I perused the poetry book crate, but found nothing that I truly wanted. She held a Barbra Streisand record and a glossy Christmas record of Johnny Mathis with the plastic wrap still shielding it, and a few more contemporary artists. I encouraged her to buy all of them so that she could place the vinyls on her walls for intriguing room decor.

Since the other customers were at the other end of the shop, gazing at an assortment of paintings and home furniture, one of the members of the church had placed  a number of films which rendered the shape of a fan.

“If you are looking for something to watch, you should look at these titles. My grandson loves them.” The elderly man, dressed in a white baseball cap, a cream-colored windbreaker, blue and white flannel, and khaki pants sat in a wooden chair, waiting for us to either grab one of the films or pay for the items that were on my sister’s hands.

“Thank you for the suggestions. I love vintage films, but we’ll be back next week.” I smiled because I thought it was admirable that he chose his favorite films for us given that we are regulars. I pulled out a ten dollar bill to pay for the five two dollar records, thanked him, and decided to carry them for my sister as we ambled toward my car.”

—Alexandria Zine

Navigating the Orchards During a Pandemic

“The grass that covered the parking lot kept graciously swaying in the autumn wind. Apple-picking is quite the familial union during the autumn season, so it is always integral that we set a date to drive to Keith’s farm in Acushnet, Massachusetts. The familiar sign is a palette of light orange, dusty rose, crimson red, mint green, grey, and black tinges against a beige background with a list of produce, such as corn, squash, tomatoes, et cetera. Black labradors stick to this agrarian sign at the top left and right corners, and among the red arrows pointing toward one’s left.

Parallel to the parking area, the corn grass is rustled by the autumn wind behind a faded grey fence, but more resolutely than the terse grass. In 2019, my ambulant family and I managed to select two bushel bags full of apples, which were a blend of red and green due to an inconsistent ripeness. COVID-19 has scarcely changed this endeavor for fresh fruit and vegetables, but reminds one that the pigmentation of our lives can be glommed just like it is in the leaves. If one is not wary of the repercussions of not preserving universal health, then the cold contrition that follows can leave one feeling vacant from a variety of loss.

Now, PPE is the stable autumnal gear for apple-picking and such, along with social-distancing. Not only that, but one must set reservations due to the winnowing of the farm’s total capacity. Even though I must wear a mask, I am sure that I will be able to smell the fresh apple cider and pies that are planted along the left side of the main building, which is the location that one enters and exits the farm. Parallel to their baking section are the miniature pumpkins and other types of produce for those who do not covet a walk among the orchards and among other sections of the farm. Once one walks past these two interior strips, the orchards are ostensible, along with the dirt path on which the tractor trailers traverse to access the various points of the farm. Throughout these apple orchards, and the PYO (pick your own) region of the farm,   “Customers who do not have masks or cloth face coverings will not be allowed in,” according to their revised webpage. This novel policy, like the other vital requirements that they are enforcing during this pandemic, certainly expels the pigmentation from any of my meager qualms and those of others.

It is arduous to decide if we should skip out on this universal and annual tradition, or look past these reservations for the other upcoming festivities. The fact that it COVID-19 has touched every jovial congregation makes it quite difficult to know if it is better to wait until more people comply with the policies and the tinges of normalcy start to appear again. I suppose that now is the time to utilize the creativity that comes with a bit of solitude, or quarantine, to render some autumnal joy. The memories of former years are just as fresh as this year’s apples may be, but I am just relieved that the recollection is always there.”     

—Alexandria Zine

Home Grown Appreciation

“My passions and interests in life have all been created by my development on Cape Cod and I am confident that I would not be the person I am today without having grown up on where I did. To be able to communicate the majesty of the place where I live is an impossible task.

I feel very blessed to say I have lived in the same house on the Cape my entire life. I’ve never moved, with the exception of going to college. 

My parents designed and built the house themselves. They chose the location because of what was in the back yard – three beautiful cranberry bogs, a herring run and the Harwich Conservation Lands, a giant parcel of perfectly preserved natural woodlands. The house was finished just two weeks before my birthday and from the day that I was brought home to I have been able to live next to what I consider one of the most beautiful places on Earth. 

When I was little, the woods and endless trails served as my playground. I have experienced hawks, eagles, osprey, deer, coyote, fox, heron, countless species of birds and even a fisher cat, all while I was just playing as a child. I have watched the herring every spring and cranberry harvests every fall. I can think of no better anecdote than my personal history to demonstrate the true intrinsic value of the natural world of the home I come from, especially fragile and unique ecosystems like the ones found on the Cape.

I know I can never make my reader feel what I do for this place, because they will never share the memories that I do with this land. Outsiders will always have their own space that they originated from, which is one that they hold close to their heart and cherish more than anything. My home is no different. It means so much to me, but only because of the memories I have attached to this place. It is a part of myself, my identity, and therefore I personally give it value.

I think that everyone should visit Cape Cod and New England at least once in their lives to experience its magic. Some might disagree but I think that to truly understand the experience, one should come in the wintertime. If you can’t appreciate New England’s beauty during its coldest, darkest and most inhospitable moments, then you don’t deserve to experience it when it’s warm, welcoming and at its best. There’s a lot of majesty in this place, even when the wind feels like it’s biting your skin and the sky looks like it’s mad at you. It takes a special kind of person to appreciate its energy, but taking the time to do so makes it that much more incredible.”

—Kalea Trudeau

Talking it Out

“Most of my closest friends are in college now, like I am. Though we might attend different schools, together we are all in the pursuit of higher knowledge. Not all of us stay in the dorms, but we do need to be on campus for classes. But now, all of the students that I know have been sent home and prohibited from coming back to campus because of the coronavirus.

It’s a scary time right now, and like many, I rely on my friends for a lot of support. I have a best friend who’s currently home from the University of New Hampshire, a school which ends up being about a 3 hour drive from where we live. Recently we talked about our lives during this ‘corona season’. I asked her how she felt about all of the summer residents moving to their Cape houses to get away from the virus in their home states. 

She was mad. 

She ranted to me about how ridiculous she thought it was- stating how the Cape has a huge population of elderly people with over 60% of year round residents over age 65, how we only have one hospital which covers most of the island with only 300 beds and how we don’t deserve to be treated like a stomping ground for the wealthy when we (the year round residents) don’t have a backup plan like theirs with another house somewhere far away. 

She also made a really good point when she observed that our grocery stores are now stocking for our offseason population, which can be hundreds of thousands less than in the summer. The shelves are always barren now. The island cannot currently provide enough food or other resources for all these people leaving their home states. 

She reminded me that Massachusetts should not be seen as a safe haven. We don’t need anyone who doesn’t respect our community coming here and ruining our lives any more than they already have been.”

—Kalea Trudeau

Categories: Editorials, People