As I have mentioned before, glass “orbs” are hidden across the island for islanders to seek out and take home. I have had a struggle of a summer in my attempt to find one. As I near closer to my island departure, I am in need of some closure. But like with a bad boyfriend, I’m not going to get it.
Dearest Orb, where art thou? I have no idea why I speak with any sense of fondness for you spherical globe. There are a few things I would like to share with you. But as much as I curse the physical glass globes, I am devoted in the finding of the scared glass floats.
What does “orb” even mean? Orbit the entire island in a journey that ends fruitlessly? Or maybe it means absorb all your time so you never get to the beach? Who knows? Who cares? I want these things out of my life and I want it now.
Orbs are like a bad boyfriend. You think for so long you are having great time, that there is a great future ahead, but really you are just going in circles and there’s no orb or diamond ring to be had.
I have searched high, I have searched low. I have search in the early morning and I have search under the light of a Blue Moon. I have considered the possibility that the whole thing is a ploy and anyone I know who has found one is only “in on it”.
The paranoia does not only exist during my waking hours, but finds me in my dreams as well. Not once, but twice I have dreamed a dream of orbs. In one I spot an orb only to then enter a foot race with someone else who beats me to the glass. This was a two-part blow as a runner, being out paced by anyone, and as an orb hunter, the worst kind of defeat, so close but still empty handed.
While I have the attention of the public, I have a strong suggestion; throw your cans in the proper receptacles. The high of spying something shinny in the thicket, taking a few step backwards only to realize the reflection came from a Pepsi not the orb of my dreams, is deathly defeating.
With summer’s end drifting closer, others orb findings being listed and my hunts yielding zilch, what am I to do? The anger expressed in my opening lines will get me nowhere. Instead, I have begun to retrace my steps.
Orb hunting may have not left me with a memento for my summer, but maybe it brought me something else. It brought me out onto the island Greenway trails. Instead of racing through the paths, I meandered. I felt the sun on my back and the sweat drip as I poked and probed the many paths of Clayhead trail. I grew closer to my mother as she and I bonded in frustration over our failed quest. I spoke with strangers and swapped tips of “pre-combed” paths.
Orbs, you are not as bad as I may have made you out to be. Instead of a ranting letter, I believe I owe you an honest thank you. You got my behind out of the beach chair, you made me friends in the woods, and you gave me satisfaction knowing I have become a part of the tradition of Block Island summer. Thank you orbs, but I’m not giving up yet.