I was walking down Mill Street not too long ago (relatively speaking) — on that day I went looking for the yellow lobster, back when it was so incredibly hot for weeks on end — and experienced the simple joy that's really not-so-simple of running into a friend. I was below Spring Street, past assorted privet hedges, just past that long yellow-ish fence after which comes the huge cobbled courtyard, across from the Christmas shop (with joyful ornaments hanging year-round between lacey curtains in the windows) at the old fire station (now housing a contemporary art gallery). And I'd just spied a cute Vespa — it'd be so cool to have a Vespa — when I saw Harry riding uphill, up Mill, on his bike. I could tell immediately that he'd gotten a haircut: Harry's long graying curls had become short graying curls. So, I called out, as he pedaled past, "Harry! I like your haircut!" To which he called back, "Me, too!" And that was that. Then, at the bottom of the hill, at Aquidneck Lobster, where the yellow lobster was nowhere to be found, I walked out to the end of the dock and looked down into the water, where I saw a menu. A menu?? Yes, it was odd to see a menu from the nearby Landing Restaurant (where so many go to enjoy a lobster) floating in the water, sending out ripples in every direction on the surface of the harbor's dark depths. And then — at dinner just the other night at a restaurant other than The Landing (not that there's anything wrong with The Landing) — another friend said she'd heard the yellow lobster didn't make it. He'd experienced so much stress due to the media attention and resulting extra handling that by the time he got to the URI Aquarium, where he was supposed to live a long lucky life "going to college" (that's how the media played it), he died. Now I know he was "just" a lobster, and that if his shell weren't yellow he may have found his way to a restaurant, Landing or otherwise, on the unfortunate end of the dining experience, but this news made me sad. Very sad. I mean, I met this rarer-than-a-blue-moon lobster (eventually, at the Fish Pier). I even commented (criticized?) that he didn't look all that yellow to me. Looking back, I wonder if his shell was changing colors — from sunny yellow to blue — as a result of the very change in circumstances that seemed so fortuitous at the start. Honestly, it gave me pause ...
And the reason I'm bringing it up today is that I'm taking a pause: I'm heading North — always a welcome break from heading south — with Darling Daughter for a few days to climb a mountain or two (real ones) before she heads back to college. That dear Darling Daughter even helped me out this morning by sharing a snapshot. She came back from the beach the other day, where she'd been lounging in the sun with a friend, and said, "Wanna see a cool seagull pic?"
Sad tale of the yellow lobster aside (RIP Yellow Lobster, intended with all sincerity), that's joy ...
That's DD's shot (right there ^^). And, I dare say, if you click on the top watery snapshot to enlarge it, you can probably read the menu ...
