ALL YOU NEED TO KNOW ABOUT MONEY

AUGUST 1, 2020 – Yesterday morning brought to Hamburg Cove my oldest sister, from Boston, and my youngest sister, from New York—each exactly a two-hour drive away. For the rest of the day, we enjoyed together this Eden midway between two major metropolitan centers of the country and a short boat trip to the Sound, the open ocean, and . . . the world.

After a reunion chat, we were treated to a delectable lunch of avocado toast and sliced tomatoes (fresh from the garden) drizzled generously with olive oil and adorned with mozzarella—prepared and presented by Mylène, artiste en résidence. (On the side she’d made a steak sandwich for my son Byron, who, through the day, wearing headset and facing an industrial-size computer screen and smaller side-screen, interacted remotely with work colleagues as if he were an airline pilot communicating nonstop with air traffic controllers.)

Later, my wife and sisters took a long hike down Cove Road and Ely’s Ferry Road to the landing on the Connecticut River six miles upstream from the Sound. In the late afternoon sun, Mylène  and my wife and I ventured to nearby Nehantic State Park for a hike and hunt for photo ops that abound in this wondrous corner of the world.

We found two pristine lakes, Unca and Norwich and a deep woods where the main sounds were our expressions of awe—reactions to countless wonders set in stone, framed in green, and splashed with random sunbeams bursting through the oak and maple canopies overhead. We “bagged” many trophies on our photographic safari.

Back at the cove and after Byron had landed from his day-long “flight,” we gathered on the verandah for wine, cheese and cherries. We feasted on our view of the cove and the aerial ballet of a squadron of ospreys.

Storytelling ensued, fueled by the humor my sisters bring to every conversation. One story featured a recent young visitor to this place, “Johnny,” my oldest sister’s six-year-old grandson.

“During a recent Zoom session,” my sister said, “Johnny insisted that I watch him count his piggy-bank contents. I estimated his loot at $12.20. I was off by just eight cents—so said Johnny, grandson of a CPA.

“‘I know everything there is to know about money,’ said Johnny authoritatively.

“‘Oh, you do, do you,’ I said.  ‘But do you know what is the most important thing about money?’ I asked him.

“‘What?’ he said.

“The most important thing is interest.’ I said.

“‘I know all about interest,’ Johnny said.

“‘You do?’ I said. ‘Tell me, what is interest.

“‘Well,’ said Johnny, ‘for example, I’m interest-ed in making a lot of money.’”

In this time of Covid, little lowers anxiety better than a hike through quiet woods or tasting simple delicacies and sipping vino verde on the verandah with a view of the cove where sturdy boats, secured at their moorings, patiently await their next voyages across shining seas.

But what lifts one’s spirits best is a child’s innocent, uninhibited humor.

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© 2020 by Eric Nilsson