QUIET
Cindy Maddera
I haven’t experienced this much silence in … years(?). There’s the hum of mechanical things, nature sounds. No radios or TVs. No background chatter. The quiet took some getting used to, but not long to settle into. Once I started getting used to this new quietness, I realized just how much effort I had been putting into tuning things out. My ears began to open up and I found myself actively seeking noises. A rustling of the leaves could be anything from a bird, a chipmunk, possible a coyote. A snap of a branch revealed a deer, snacking its way through the cemetery I passed on a morning walk. Woods Hole is a bit of a thorny flower. I could easily find myself steps away from a stunning view of the bay or the ocean. The thorns come from the isolation. Without a car, you are a bit stranded. The closest grocery store is the town over, a forty five minute walk. There are no street lights and when the sun finally sets, the darkness is deep. Lights out is a serious LIGHTS OUT! I’m sure star gazing is amazing. The skies were overcast most of the time or filled with smoke from wild fires in Canada.
I took a day for myself and rode the ferry over to Oak Bluff on Martha’s Vineyard. The tourist season is just beginning in the cape. The island was busy, but not overwhelmed with swarms of people. I was able to walk right into the first bike rental shop and rented a bicycle for the day. I took the ocean bike path to Edgartown, stopping occasionally to take some pictures. There’s a bridge that’s featured in Jaws that you have to cross on your way to Edgartown. Much of the movie was filmed in this area. I had inadvertently put myself on a Jaws tour. I almost felt Chris’s hand on my brakes as I pulled over to photograph the bridge. I rode all the way to the far side of Edgartown, to a small lighthouse. The steps of the lighthouse was crowded with a group of small children eating sack lunches. I continued to walk past the lighthouse, out to the beach, picking up some shells along the way. A sailboat sporting an American flag for it’s sail drifted by and it was in this moment that I started to understand why this place felt so unsettling and uncomfortable.
In the days leading up to this excursion to Martha’s Vineyard, I had had a number of conversations regarding affordable housing and poverty. The Cape is a place of wealth. Beautiful houses with well manicured lawns sit in wait for residents who only spend maybe two months of the year there. Meanwhile, science researchers are struggling to find housing that is cheaper than three thousand dollars a month. America has a real misconception of poverty and who are or are not considered to be at poverty level. Poor does not conjure imagery of someone highly educated, but when you are barely making $50,000 a year in places where the median rent is over $3,000 a month, add on utilities, groceries, insurance and a hefty student loan payment, you are poor. Too many Americans are just one emergency medical bill away from homelessness. I found that being surrounded with so much wealth, and wastefulness honestly, to be off putting. And I wanted to like this place. I wanted to be able to ignore all of that but it is nearly impossible when my lunch of a cup of soup and side salad cost me $30, a loaf of bread was over five dollars.
I learned a lot about getting a lab space ready for visiting scientists, like how sea water tables work and things I should plan on for the next year. I learned to tune into the sounds around me and settle into the silence. I could have spent hours combing the beach for shells or just sitting in the sand and watching the sun drop down during sunset. There were moments of peace and pure joy, but I also learned that all of that comes with price tag that many of us cannot afford.
