The island where we are staying for the week is a lobstering village off the coast of Maine. It is a small tight knit community where the all the year round residents know each other. One of the first things we noticed when we started coming here over 15 years ago is the “wave.” Everyone waves at each other. The wave from the car looks almost reflexive. Hand resting on the top of the steering wheel, lifted at the wrist for each and every passing car, pedestrian or bicyclist. There appears to be no exceptions.
I imagine for the residents, it actually is a reflex. But for some of us summer visitors it takes a conscience effort to remember to wave. I try hard, but each time I forget, I feel rude. “Damn summer people” I imagine the driver saying as we pass, him waving at me, and me not being able to get my hand up fast enough in response.
No single act of kindness. It is a sustained effort today and throughout the week, doing the wave.
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