Wednesday began in high spirits, for it was the last day of four to be spent toiling under Bob's iron whip. We were weary, but not yet broken. A hearty few even endeavored to begin work on a second ditch, inspired perhaps by the completion of the first one the day before. The first ditch took three days. This time we were shooting for one. Two lucky individuals secured for themselves the most important task of the day - driving to the beach early in the afternoon to reserve a pavilion for the night's festivities. Other group members made due with their own assignments, switching places between painting and sunning in the grass so as to balance progress on the pigment of the house with that of their tans.
When 3:30 came, the entire crew split for the beach. Brad split so fast that he forgot to leave us the keys to the van. Following this brief setback, we made our way to Salt Pond Beach for the goodbye barbeque. Here we would be treated to a magnificent spread of food overlooking a beach sunset on what appeared to be our clearest day yet. All of the Habitat volunteers, employees, and homeowners were in attendance, including Bob, who was manning the grill.
To our surprise, the sunset gave way to even greater delights as the sky darkened to reveal a crystal-clear view of the night sky, glittering with shooting stars and satellites tracing their slow, steady arcs across the heavens. While Brad shared his hidden passion for astronomy, we found ourselves contemplating the finer points of the nature of our place in the universe. When we had fully scrutinized the possibility that another life-form might be sitting down somewhere out in the black, glistening void of space to a meal of Chinese food while gazing up at our tiny speck of a galaxy, we retreated to the pavilion for the closing ceremonies.
Bob and the other Habitat representatives treated us to a touching award ceremony complemented by some gracious thank-you's on behalf of the homeowners. Short of getting to sit on Bob's lap and ask for presents, it was strangely reminiscent of childhood visits to Santa Claus at the mall. And, indeed, we were all coming away from our experience with gifts far more cherished than any present.
Gwen, who for lack of a better introduction I will describe simply as the woman in charge, provided some thoughtful advice regarding safety during our recreation over the next three days. Swimming in murky water (or during one's muh'ee) was highly discouraged, as was any form of cliff or waterfall diving - equated tersely to jumping into a pile of rocks. With this precious wisdom in hand, we said our goodbyes and left the beach enthusiastic for the events of the coming days.