It could have been a potential lifestyle, but since living and working on Long Island I have discovered the secrets of my own neighborhood. How serene the canals of Freeport become in the afternoon, when cranes come by the dock searching for lunch, and minows jump and flap in murky brown roundels. The old architecture of South Shore homes, with their wrap-around porches, and curved towers with pointed roofs and look-out windows at the top. Engrossing myself in the perfume of exotic fruits and vegetables at the Hispanic market down the street. Discovering the dive bar that serves fantastic, fresh-caught seafood and beer in 32-ounce Styrofoam cups, or sipping cocktails on the balcony of the “water hotel” around the corner. Taking dance classes at the studio run by your best friend’s mom, where the proceeds go towards facilitating their non-profit arts center for children with disabilities. The mansions of the Gold Coast, the British Pubs of Huntington. It’s all here, for me, now.
