Monday, I had my first foray into Cape Cod jury duty. This entailed waking up at 5AM to get ready to catch a 6:30 bus to Hyannis. It was still dark and the full moon was flirting with stormy clouds as I walked my usual shortcut into the center of town, although the sun was creeping up by the time we drove east along the Beach Point section of the harbor. That was the easiest part of the morning. Once I reached Hyannis, I caught a pokey little shuttle bus that meandered through a myriad of what pass for malls on Cape and a multitude of medical centers to get to the Barnstable courthouse.

The trip took a little over three hours and I arrived with just enough time to hit the ladies before my group of prospective jurors began being processed. This was jury duty, after all, with the typical hurry up and waiting until the judge finally started individually asking us questions. I was, miraculously, number six on his list and all I had to do was show him my stack of letters from the New York State Parole Board Commissioner's office thanking me for my Victim Statements, they are entirely another story and always get me out of jury duty, before I was excused. Then, equally a miracle, as I left the courthouse, the pokey little shuttle going back to Hyannis pulled up and got me to the terminal just in time to catch the 12:30 bus home so I didn’t need to wait for the one at 5:30. I was having lunch at 2:30, I hadn’t eaten since the oatmeal I wolfed down before leaving at dawn and I was starving.

Somehow, the trip back was shorter, less time in Hyannis, and my favorite part, as always, was that moment when the bus comes over the rise in Truro, you know it if you’ve seen it, and you get a glimpse of Provincetown and the harbor before they disappear behind the strip of summer cottages that line the water side of the road. I’ve seen it hundreds of times, in every season, both night and day, and it still takes my breath away. Monday, on the way back from my brief stint of jury duty, the bay was full of white caps cresting across the water under an icy blue sky. Today it's grey, but you can get a better look upon re-entering Provincetown at Beach Point, which is always pretty, coming or going. And, for me at least, the place where I know I have, once again, found my way home.