Drag Kickball, and the high season begins...

I think of this blog as a window on the outer Cape for people who miss the place, or who would just like to make a quick mental escape to a watery place before they go on with their day. But this week and next, everyone's here!

The summer is at the top of its arc, marked by the annual Drag Kickball game where Provincetown drag queens compete in their best finery, revealing the muscle beneath the sequined surface. It's all for a good cause: the local women's shelter.

Domestic violence is a problem here in winter, when money is low and frustration high. But now coffers are filling, little flotillas of kayaks are setting off in the mornings, manned by people who've been dreaming about this moment all year, and in the evenings couples drift down Commercial Street, finding the right little niche to drink a glass of wine,laugh in the salt air and watch the world go by.

The town feels like a stage set in August, and everyone here is starring as him or herself, working together to make a great show. The little moments of life take on an extra glow--I was downtown last week when a waiter at The Waterford hurried by carrying a tray piled high with hydrangea leaves. I asked why. "The storm," he said, pointing to the lowering clouds, and rushed away. I still have no idea what he was doing but the urgency felt utterly appropriate.

Because here comes the great moment: Carnival. The beads are in, the streamers are in, UPS will be delivering pounds and pounds and pounds of confetti--even a drag queen with a kickball injury can get into the spirit. The town is about to explode in a frenzied bacchanal, the beat from the dance clubs pumping through the night.

Two weeks later, the school bus will stop by the beach, the neighbor kids will run down the hill in their new clothes, and we'll be back to business as usual. My daughter's a senior in high school this year. I'm beside myself at the political situation and the economic situation it has created, and I hate to think what a lean winter this might be. But for now, the harbor is crowded with sailboats, their anchor lights like fireflies in the night and there's a sense of perfect peace and plenty. It should last a few more days at least.