"The summer morn is bright and fresh, the birds are darting by As if they loved to breast the breeze that sweeps the cool clear sky."

Another perfect day today with a bright sun and a lovely breeze has put the rain in the far corners of my memory. I sat outside and watched as the birds flew in and out of the feeders. One chickadee flew so close it skirted the top of my head. Orioles were here, both Mr. and Mrs., the ever reliable chickadees and a cat bird or two who dropped in to scoop up the jelly. When I finish, I'll go back to the deck. It's a day too lovely to waste inside the house.

The crowds are here. The summer is in full swing. Traffic was lined up for miles waiting for a turn over the bridges. The cars all seem to be from Massachusetts, New York or Connecticut. In the old days, when I was younger, many tourists came from Canada. French could be heard in all the restaurants and shops. I babysat one summer for a French Canadian couple who were working at a restaurant where the waiters and waitresses sang show tunes while they served. My parents used to love to bring their vacationing guests there. It was old time Cape entertainment. The place closed a long while back then resurfaced as a twenty-something club. Many of the old places have disappeared over time or been reincarnated complete with crowds and loud music. A pitch and putt golf course with also a pond for paddle boats and a barn full of games was once a stop on the tourist route for my parents' younger guests, their nieces and nephews. It disappeared because the land was too valuable. Mildred's was the first restaurant where I ever had a drink with dinner. I was twenty and my dad ordered me a daiquiri. Where it once stood is now an empty lot. The movie theater is a church. It still uses the old marquee which now touts the benefits of a sinless life instead of the current movie. I'd have kept the movies and added my touch. It would read Gone with the Wind If You Don't Change Your Sinful Ways, but I don't think most churches have much of a sense of humor.

I do miss the Cape of old when only the summer was crazy. On the day after Labor Day, tourist shops with their inflatable rafts and Cape sweatshirts closed, streets were two way again, and motels turned off their lights. Our world went back to normal.