Plymouth Rock Saturday June 22nd

The welcome sunshine peeked in our windows early Saturday morning.  We had our yummy toast, packed up the room, and lugged the luggage down three flights of stairs.  It was NOT any easier than going up.  We were on the road in good time, heading for Plymouth Rock, MA.  Kath tried to prepare me for what to expect, but it was a glorious drive, beautiful sky, calm blue waters.

As we pulled into the tiny town I glanced out my window.  It was breathtaking!  The little sailboats bobbing on the glassy water; the bright blue sky and the puffy white clouds.  Sunshine reflecting off sails and sea and stones.

It was very early in the morning, still, and there were very few people milling about.  We parked right across from the pillared structure that housed Plymouth Rock.  I walked across the road, through a bit of sand, and peered down.  The rock was decidedly much smaller than I had pictured, and quite a ways back from the water.  “1620” was emblazoned across the rock.  I had read somewhere that Plymouth Rock is America’s most unimpressive national monument.  Although I understood why, I didn’t agree.  Just standing there in the bright breezes touched me deeply.  This was America, right in front of me.  And I loved it.

After a few pictures we walked the paths around the bay.  The Mayflower (reproduction) was out for maintenance – so we’re pretty sure that was the ship we saw anchored across Mystic Harbor.  Just as we started back the path, the gift shops opened and we browsed around there, buying postcards and little magnets.   I felt like I didn’t want to leave.  This vacation was like rock-hopping.  Everything was wonderful, but there was still the NEXT thing.  In this case, Plimoth Plantation.