Light blue heart. Not red. Red is passion, red is devotion, red is naming your kid after a beach town. Light blue is "yeah, it's fine, I'd live here again." That's the most Rhode Island emotion ever recorded: mild, salty, slightly damp.
This is for the people who measure distance in minutes and consider 25 of them a road trip. Who give directions using buildings that got torn down in 2009. Who will fight a stranger over chowder color but can't name three streets outside their own town. You love it here the way you love frozen lemonade in July and quahogs in a fryer: deeply, quietly, and only when it's convenient. It's the smallest state with the longest opinions, and somehow that works.
Soft enough for a beach parking lot sunset, sturdy enough to survive six seasons of weather that happen in one week. Breathable, cozy, holds its shape and its color wash after wash, so the only thing fading is your patience with summer traffic.
