After a virtually non-existent winter, the Pines has suddenly come alive with the opening of the stores "downtown" on the first day of April. Now we can stroll a short distance to sample the world's finest comestibles in the Pines Pantry and the wines and spirits in the Pines Liquor Shop. Seventy-two percent cocoa Godiva and Moët and Chandon champagne sure do go down easy on the deck overlooking the Atlantic.
On the ferry ride over, Bob Howard, the venerable Pines denizen and expert in all things real estate, tells us that the rental market is positively booming this year despite the fact that the burnt down Pavilion will not be rebuilt in time for high season.
Sip and Twirl is being framed and will likely be blazing in time for the world renowned Drag Invasion on July 4. We all know that Cherry Grove right down the beach will fill any slack in the nightlife. Private house parties will grow and become even more deluxe. And maybe just maybe we will just dance on the beach more often.
It has become readily apparent that the Pavilion will not be ready to house our dancing bodies this season due to the fire late last year. However, we do suspect that the Blue Whale will work just fine in its stead. We of the beach are, if nothing else a flexible crew. The magic of this
place remains unabated even in the face of worse tragedies than the burning of a couple of large wood boxes that housed our partying in years past. Tea dance, early middle and late will go on and on in perpetuity.
The confluence of the full moon and Easter found us wading into the ocean up to our knees as the lunar surface turned orange and wailed over the swirling seas. This moonlight energy enchanted everyone that took the time to notice how the light illuminated the boardwalks and the faces of their companions.
Uniting with friends old and new or just hanging solo is the order of each wonderful day. The Pines is a place of drama or not depending on one's mood and life condition at each moment. Some come here just to make it one more day. Waking up to this Easter morning as we put in a panoply of pansies at Sunrise and watch as their smiling faces turn toward the springtime Sunset we remember our place in the natural order of living things.
Having been fortunate enough to have been here since with the onset of the AIDs holocaust in the eighties we always take advantage of just one more day. My ancient French bulldog Negrito seems to remember the smell of the salt air and the negative ions each approach to the Sayville Ferry on the way to the beach. He, his mother and his brother all grew up here on the beach. As did we. One more day here in the Fire Island Pines awaits.