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By Robert Sherman ~ The most notable thing about coming to this island each time we step off the boat is that our eyes are met with the vastness of uninterrupted space. Gazing across the ocean and beyond we can open our minds to a sense of limitless possibilities, of countless destinations, until we start to let go of our mainland existence and see ourselves floating freely on the distant horizon.I started renting here every summer 27 years ago because that feeling entered my bloodstream and wouldn’t let go. Thirteen years ago I finally found the perfect, dreamy, funky garden cottage by the sea – my own Xanadu. That was fun. I had been looking constantly over the years for one that fit, and suddenly the “Big Kahuna” of Seaview, my surf mate and friend, Bruce Mayer, casually mentioned a house on B Street. With his real estate license in hand we went over to see it and everything simply fell into place. It was love at first sight.I have called this house my home each summer and many winters ever since. However, now it’s time for me to let it go.My kids have grown and moved away, having spent and adored so much of their childhood as a family here. My wife and I are looking towards a new chapter in some other area of the country, or Southern Italy, where she’s from … well, we haven’t figured that part out yet.Selling my house has been quite a long strange trip as well. There’s a bit of a Wild West feel out here, and so setting up with the right realtor, establishing the right price, and navigating the rocky terrain of potential buyers was a challenge. But I finally took off my cowboy boots with Wallace Real Estate.Working with Megan Wallace and her father, Dana, has been great. She smoothly and efficiently found me the timeline, price, and right kind of buyer for my beloved 1924 house. I’m also comforted in knowing that the new owners are able to appreciate (and plan on maintaining) the integrity of this original Fire Island style property.I will truly miss being anchored to this beautiful island. But we have many friends with many couches so I know we’ll return often.Wherever our stories come from (found objects in the sand, a moment on a far flung street, a garden in full bloom, a solitary cloud, a breaking wave, a piece of blue glass, a lyric from a love song, a hard truth, air, sleep, nothing at all), once we’ve ferried away from the other side we are free to find ourselves anywhere, everywhere, and nowhere all at the same time, and something softens inside us, cradled as we are on both sides by open ocean and bay.Perhaps that’s why, one way or another, we always have to come back – because in truth some part of us never leaves.
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