A Kind of Freedom
“All I know is that life is very short, and freedom very precious, and that when I get out I’m going to live right up to the hilt, and make these brief years extravagant as hell. I’m going to go where I want and do what I want to do—if I ever figure out what that is—and BE, thoroughly, BE.” — Philip Roth.
Acclaimed novelist Philip Roth wrote these words in a letter to a friend while in the Army, prior to his breakthrough story collection, Goodbye Columbus. I came across the quote during the wee hours of the morning, in a terrific new biography of Roth, called Stung by Life by Steven Zipperstein. The sentiment gave me pause and inspired me to do something a bit impulsive that day. After breakfast, I would take the ferry across the bay to Shelter Island to walk the waterfront. A friend was looking to buy a family home there, so I had a practical reason for going too. Shelter Island has always been a special place. Only a 15-minute ferry ride from Sag Harbor and the rest of the Hamptons, but miles away in terms of atmosphere, which is decidedly “un-Hampton.” The feeling is quieter and more rural, laid-back old money rather than flash. There are posh spots: the Yacht Club for lunch, the French restaurant on the water, but also great picnic hideaways and trails for hiking in the lush Mashomack Preserve, which covers one-third of the island.
The ferry ride over felt like a release from the morning onslaught of emails and texts. My car was boxed in on all sides by workers’ trucks on the boat, a 100-foot-long vehicular/passenger vessel designed to hold 25-30 cars. The crew collecting the cash-only toll was cheerful—not yet overworked from the multiple back-and-forth trips still ahead. At port, I found the island traffic-free, and followed my GPS through the winding backroads to my friend’s prospective home on Peconic Bay.
The views from the waterside backyard to Southampton and the North Fork were clear and bright. I sat on the dock with an osprey for company in its tall perch and took off my jacket to bask in the sun. My thoughts naturally turned to Maine, and fishing from my own dock. Word from up north is the ice has cracked, so I will be heading there soon. That kind of freedom doesn’t get any better in my book.