Kate Arends

The Bathers by Paul Cezanne I keep waiting for summer to start, which doesn’t make sense given the sock tan I’ve developed. My feet have never looked more Victorian. Signs of the season are all accounted for: popsicles, ball sports, play dates, sparklers, hydrangeas. A bucket list trip to Martha’s Vineyard! A generous five days without kids in the house, thanks to my in-laws, felt electric in its spaciousness. I can't put my finger on what's keeping me waiting.

Joe’s cousin got married last weekend on Martha’s Vineyard, and we brought the family along for the ride. I have always wanted to visit, but had no real agenda other than to show up, eat lots of fresh seafood, and look around. We went in early June, which is not high season. The hydrangeas everyone photographs weren’t out yet. What was in bloom were cascading azaleas and climbing roses in every color. What I didn’t expect was to be genuinely shaken by how beautiful some of these places are.

Our homes are in conversation with the rest of our lives. Sometimes they say not yet, or I don't know, and that feels like failure. But it's not. It's a way of arriving at a truth we can't always see until it shows up in something physical. Stephanie Sundberg for Maria Stanley Most of us live in half-finished homes. We walk our friends through them, rattling off a list of what we plan to do. But most of us know that finish lines tend to move.