Oyster Harbor and the love of a lifetime

Living in Oyster Harbor has always been a blessing to me. I've been in the community just over 5 years and still make new discoveries every day. My 13-year-old dog Lucy and I have our various routes and thus far we've discovered a new bench here and there in Arundel-on-the-Bay and a couple piers off of Washington that she enjoys. One even features a library swap box with books from the neighborhood. (The pickin's are pretty good, too!)

I'm just now finishing my first book from that library box. It's called "Wild Card Quilt - The Ecology of Home" by Janisse Ray. It's about a young woman who returns to her native Georgia with her son, after being away for a long time. Reading it has helped me process a few things. Essentially, I'm redefining my definition of home, my take on the world, and my place in it. The conclusion I've come to, is that one place does not define us, but we can enjoy the wonder of our present.

Oyster Harbor was a great place for me during the pandemic. As I got very bored and frustrated with a computer programming class, I decided to take my stress outside. The loop along the peninsula along the water in Oyster Harbor and Arundel-on-the-Bay became a bit of a hamster wheel for me. In a short number of months I lost 20 pounds. I learned and experienced the definition of runner's high, and I learned that the fatigue so often felt came from a job that involved a lot of sitting.

Later, having returned to work, the weight found itself on my hips again, and I was not as happy. I did, however, experience even more of Oyster Harbor's vast benefits. Outside of our window lies the vast Chesapeake Bay, and it hosts some interesting sports year-round. One such sport, is Open Water Swimming. A scuba diver by habit and hobby, I couldn't really imagine swimming in the Bay. It's shallow, dark, cold, and dare I say it, nasty. But, never say never.

There's not a lot to do during Covid. There's certainly even less people to do things with. And the things you do find yourself doing, are often outside. Thus, I found myself in 40-degree water playing around like in a paddle pool. I suppose the initial attempts (while the water was in the 50s) were to swim 600 yards. I did that some of the time. Other times I just waded in the pool. Regardless, I found that my head was clear each day at work, my stress was gone, and for whatever reason, my hip didn't hurt anymore.

Oyster Harbor has yielded many benefits for me. It gave me a cozy place to settle and a fresh start in life. It gave a rescue dog a home, and many friends to greet each morning. These days, I think Lucy has more friends than I do, and I'm known as "Lucy's mom" and little else. But when left alone to do little other than walk, Lucy and I made the most of our self-isolation here. We went over to mutual friends many times, walking out on their pier and collecting free cookies.

I will say, it was those simple talks with neighbors that kept me going while I was alone. All it took was 15 minutes a day, and I would feel normal again. It wasn't hugs I missed, or even my family per se (you can reach Nebraska by phone), but it was the feeling of a general and common and shared humanity that I missed. And it is the neighbors and friends within Oyster Harbor and Arundel-on-the-Bay that gave me that. It's something I'll always cherish and never forget about our communities here.

These days Lucy is a little slower and a little more tired. Age is catching up with her. But indeed the walks we go on are no longer mine, maybe ours, but really they are hers. She takes me to her friends' house for a treat along Chesapeake Walk. She takes me to the piers on Washington, so she can walk along the boats. Sometimes we stop and get a library book, and sit on the bench together and read. She tells me if it's a good one, and when she's ready to go home.

Oyster Harbor is a precious place to me. I really didn't know what to expect when I moved here. And I really wasn't good at getting to know people. (I'm still not.) But what I did have, was someone to share things with, to help introduce me around, one sniff at a time, be it blade of grass or rock. So far, it's been a beautiful stroll getting to know each and every one here, going from neighbors, to friends. From woofs, to wags... I just wanted to say, it's great getting to know all of you on our walks. See you out there!