off the radar summer

there's something romantic about being somewhere where nobody else wants to be; places off the radar in any given season. a small alaskan port in the dead of winter, only a bar and gas station open to the fittest survivors. returning to northampton from a week in "vacationland" i realized that this is, in some ways, the summer equivalent: a place that people leave this time of year. this off-season in the pioneer valley began yesterday.

less than an hour out of the car with my grandmother i found myself back at the cafe disoriented, ocean air and sunblock still fresh on my skin. tables full of ugly families adorned the other side of the counter and my fantasy of a quiet, short night seemed threatened. but things began to look up and by 7:30 it was totally dead and we just started closing up. i was home in record time and got to decompress a bit before biking back to florence for a very fun house party where new people came out of the woodwork to properly celebrate.

perhaps summer arrived here at some point while i was away, as thunderstorm after thunderstorm bombed this valley and the population completed its annual evacuation. after no-holds-barred adventure in montreal followed by a week on the beaches of maine with the fam i am back, ready to dig into projects i have been neglecting for months. there's so much potential in this land devoid of tourism. i'm inspired to push myself this summer: long bike rides across state lines, playful danger, spicy food, explosive ideas, soundtracks to indelible moments. all nourished by my sweaty, cramped fourth-floor apartment. the masses have fled but the summer is here. i can taste it.