Walk with the Easter Bunny

Yes, man, Easter was a gorgeous day for a stroll. The wife with her Easter finery that knicked the shrinking bankroll, the boxer Molly with her stub tail glistening in the sun, and poor little me with my shredded clothing braved the lenient elements in a short joust around the center of town. And it was worth every step of it.

Across the way from our unspacious estate in Rockport, we noted that the green was rearing its springy head in the George J. Tarr School yard. And we further noted how well Custodian Walt Poole has kept the greensward clear of trash these days. Looking into the school windows we were again impressed by the cleverness of teachers and pupils alike in portraying the symbolic significance of the season, what with Easter bunnies, chicks and jonquils, all in cut-outs. There's a warmth and wealth of meaning for the wayfarer trying to breathe in the tonic of Eastertide.

Easter and Spring are companions in arms. So the maples in the school yard reflect the season. The trees are blossomed out to herald the reawakening. This too is a welcomed sight. And right in our neighborhood, it gives us a definite lift. And the sidewalks along Broadway are swept of the accumulatioon of winter sand that had to be strewed on them so that folks could walk with safety after the fall of snow. Birds chirping in the trees added the hope "if Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?"

Into Dock Square, we were confronted by the unofficial senate gathered for a daily debate that defies weather. Before us were fisherman John Flanders and man-about-town Noble Hodgkins of Bearskin Neck. Others were in the audience listening to verbal solutions to the world's problems. That's what makes a town tick.

At the head of popular T Wharf was a stray easy chair waiting for a customer, looking as out of place as the wrought-iron bed that all winter has reposed in an Upper Main Street yard through snow and sleet and rain. Lobster pots flanked both sides of T Wharf this Easter day as though the compact little power boats were getting ready for another try at their pots hoping to beat the skin divers to the haul.

Along the wharf's edge was Harold Day of Beverly, holding his cunningly clad Easter granddaughter Peggy Murtaugh of Salem, two years, no more to breathe in the nautical tranquility of the placid cove. They had just driven down for the day.

It was like mid-summer on T Wharf. Let us say that hundreds were there enjoying the serenity of it all. A 35-foot power boat to them was a bluewater freighter. The very fact that it floated made it a queen of the seas to these folks from the hinterland. All Rockport welcomes them. Across the cove could be seen a wealth of outlanders roaming the inner breakwater, scampering over the insecure granite boulders and even picknicking on the shelves. The Lord was with them and no mishap was reported.

At the head of T Wharf, a conspicuous sign read "No Swimming - Board of Selectmen". Everyone obeyed the sign to the letter. After all, the thermometer still read under 40. The waters of Sandy Bay hardly lend themselves to frisking in the briny this time of year.

Molly was having a ball for herself, what with so many strange mutts around. But on a leash all she could do was to sniff and sniff again. Easter is no day for frisking, even for canines. And the wife was stern for a change.

Cameras were flashing all over the place. Douglas King of Topsfield was one of these photog hounds. He used Motif No. 1 for a background to flick his mother, Mrs. Donald F. King and his 13-year -old sister, Deanna in a cozy shot. Yeah man. Easter was a grand day for a pedestrian show!

J.P.C., Jr.