We’ve got Digger wit his unmuffled cigarette boat, a variety of jet skis operating out of the more recent nouveau riche cottages south on the Lane, and the thumping bass of a rock band “tuning up” over at the marina. Plug your ears, it’s Summer Fest in Kagawong.

This little private yacht may like being part of the noisy village. Either that or they made a bad mistake coming here when they did.

How could I fail to mention that IT RAINED last night, A light rain, a gentle rain, but rain, and for maybe two hours. I stayed up the whole time listening to the sound patterns on the metal roof. Rain, for those who don't have metal roofs, is not a steady, uniform phenomenon, no—instead, the intensity fluctuates by the second. So, for two or more hours I listened—first for the little whispers, and then the brush strokes on a snare drum, and then, but no, never the tympani—always saying, "yes, come on, yes, come on, you can do it," afraid to move in case I might jinx what was happening, and occasionally saying, "thanks rain, thanks...even this little bit is better than nothing."