Henry James called “summer afternoon” the most beautiful word group in English. It’s sleek on the tongue as you say it, and suggestive of carefree times. Although James was living at Lamb House in Sussex when he wrote it, for me the phrase speaks of life in the Hamptons—of strolling around at the L.V.I.S. Fair, or watching a polo match at Two Trees, of lazy afternoons on the beach, a lobster salad in Montauk or just sitting on a bench on Newtown Lane.
Visitors fall in love with the Hamptons and the “summer afternoon” quality of life. Residents like that idea—but wish it were fewer people falling in love. One of the constant topics of conversation of all the weekend residents is about traffic on the roads and the number of people on the village streets. They are always pointing out how bad it has gotten, and they are fond of comparing it to last year, or a few years ago. Full-time residents, on the other hand, seem more accepting of change. Perhaps we have lived with change for a longer time.
It reminds me of a story about a medieval monk who was not a Venetian but who complained about the all the Turks, Libyans and Parthians in St. Mark’s Square. Mary McCarthy, in the beautiful and ageless book, Venice Observed, which she wrote in 1956, notes that while Venetians easily stroll in the Piazza San Marco looking at the tourists with the tourists looking back at them, foreigners in the tradition of the medieval monk are quick to voice their complaints about other visitors. Some things never change. Whether you are in a gondola, a sedan chair, or a four-wheel drive, parking spaces have always been scarce and people have always been chattering on about it.