Walk Into Sea Lanes

Sundays can even be busy days with us old Rockporters to the point where sandwiching in time enough for a stroll may be difficult. Such was last Sunday, one of the most ideal, weather-wise. So it was not until approaching twilight that the wife and I and our fast fading four-footer could find moments to meander along new lanes. This time the wife chose a walk into sea lanes close by.

At Patch's Corner, it looked as if the seats were taken over by the summer folks in garish array, easing out the local characters. For all, the sky offered a glorious twilight show of rare clouds, pink tinged. On a door in the square a nameplate reading Frank Jordan reminded us of his old native Rockport saying about the "mess of green corn...the summer's gone." The old call fire department missed a lot with his passing.

Up the Main Street we poked through the tide of trippers on their way back to 128 and the cities, and in no time we escaped into the first of our sea lanes. On Pier Avenue, we enjoyed the last vestiges of the rampantly beautiful rose garden of Mrs. Edwin N. Kent. Staying on for the summer were her colorful petunias and geraniums. By the way, this has been a rose garden since 1936.

From there to the shore where a forbidding sign screamed "positively No Trespassing" and the signature was S.H. Pool whom many know and respect as Sterling H. Pool, Rockport's sanitary engineer. His is a modest private beach hemmed in by grim stone walls, but we felt he wouldn't mind Molly scratching up a bit of its sand or madly dashing after an unwary gull. Molly has yet to catch one.

Across the way to invade the rose bowered white picket fence of our long time friends, the Parker Eldridges. Their patio overlooks the bay with its colorful boating and swimmng activity. Visiting them was Oscar Benson, who was painting the Methodist Church in a rich white, and whose son-in-law is the church pastor, Rev. Robert Mezoff. Next door is the home of Mary Velanti, a physical education teacher of Greater Boston. The structure by the sea was formerly occupied by artist Yarnall Abbott and before that was a barn used by the same Frank Jordan for his delivery wagon.

Back on the Main Street, it was worth noticing the old Grand Army Hall, a college frat initiation type structure, changed from grim red brick to sheer white. Its quaint small windows mark it here in Sandy Bay. It's the worship hall for the Christian Scientists. Onto another sea lane, leading down to "Blue Gates," where Edith Lowell lived: an old house and a picturesque one overlooking the bay, ivy enclustered and worthy of an artist's brush; a wonderful lawn and a yellow cat for decoration. What more could an author want for a background?

Maybe you wonder why all this time the "monster' has been so peaceful. A walk to our sea lanes forbids us take this canine atomic bomb off the leash. We have too much respect for our summer kinsfolk and their fanciful leash-bound pets.

Finally into the choicest sea lane of them all, that of Ivar Rose and his wife. She has converted an alley into an irrestible flowery retreat. Candy tuft geraniums and purple petunias are the words the "botanist" wife used in describing what artist Ivar and the missus had growing there. Plus religious figurines and striking stone work, it is no wonder that both summer and year-around folks pause to look down the alley in admiration.

And as we again stopped at the head of that alley, we couldn't help but again look at the little long shop wherein for years, Jennie Savage once presided as counsellor-philosopher to Rockporters of all ages, regardless of religion, color or party, native or carpet bagger.

Even the main stem with its side lanes to the sea offer a quiet walk of a Sunday to all of us.
J.P.C., Jr.