Sagaponack community notes, May 20


A bright sickle and a star are the only things shining in the evening sky. For a 
while, the sky is the unbelievable shade of blue sometimes defined as Maxfield Parrish blue. The reason we fall back on a painter to describe it, and not words, is because 
you have to see it. Opaque, luminous, a deep unmoving 
azul, made from dusted chalk, the sky is like velvet. It saturates. So, leave it to the painter, and your luck. 
Why not better the odds: go 
outside more frequently.

There are other colors, too. And this is why it is so important to go outside. While you 
might have paid dearly for all those view-seeking windows, they are frames, and they 
don’t allow you to see beyond them, no matter how big they are. The only thing those windows do is bang up little birds, and glare—malcontent with their near constant state of no contents.

We’ve been enjoying what seems a very quiet span in Sagg. Proof of this is that the sole remaining flock of 
Sagg’s indigenous guinea fowl have not suffered a roadside fatality yet (it’s coming, 
we know). The main traffic in Sagg isn’t its residents, it’s its workers, and they tend to 
arrive early. There is a building boom in Sagg, but because 
it belongs largely to few, 
they have well-organized teams. Thanks to the silver lunch 
bus, they don’t need to leave 
the job all day. The road has belonged to farm equipment and delivery vehicles, sometimes hauling a lawn of stacked sod, or a tree, a 
conifer strapped down like King Kong, easing through our streets.

All that is about to change—or, to put it more accurately, it won’t be changed, it will be added to. The people who 
have houses here begin to 
arrive. From here on, the tempo 
builds and falls, but never 
shall fall again to where it was last night: so quiet that as I tried to sleep, I was not at 
peace but on alert; I was 
focused on listening, the way one strains to see in the darkness.

Finally, I could hear a 
carpenter bee gnawing, I could hear my distant neighbor’s fountain trickling. I could hear a small wave as it folded and slapped at the shore.

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