Mainly Maine

I had a blinding insight this morning in the shower.  (That seems to be where most of my blinding insights seem to come, oddly.  I thought electricity and water didn’t mix, but that’s a discussion for another time).  That being – I write less, a lot less, when I’m happy. Or, at least, when I’m not lonely.  Put the other way, I write…to connect, to communicate, to reflect, when those options, particularly in real time with real people, are otherwise in short supply.

That being the case, I had very little time to write during my wonderful four-week vacation recently in Maine (and Vermont and New Hampshire) with my bestie JJS (hereinafter J) and her wonder dog Amber.  Late summer is a particularly beautiful time to visit that particularly beautiful part of the world, and aside from the occasional thunderstorm (love those things) we were treated to many glorious warm and clear days, filled with all manner of busyness.  Oh, and some none-busyness as well, just sitting on the porch staring out over the trees to the water and sky of mid-coastal Maine.

J’s family has owned various pieces of property on a small island near Boothbay Harbor for decades.  But we’re talking *an island* here, folks.  No road, no ferry, no nuthin.  So let me set the stage a bit. Here’s a shot of the harbor where folks keep their boats in order just to get themselves out there: Ahoy, matey!

So load up your chosen vessel with all your belongings, your food, your whatever, yourselves and your creatures and head out to sea.  As you leave the harbor, here’s a view back over the dock and the lobsah shack (in truth this picture was taken on land, but you get the idea):

Once away from land, one skims across the water, watching the play of the clouds and the swooping of the birds.  I always feel a bit like Jacquie Kennedy at this point in the proceedings, a member of  American nobility about to enter the private preserve of the fortunate.  As indeed I am, aside from the nobility bit.

Once at the island dock, one reverses the harborside exercise, lugging luggage and food and pets and selves and what-all up the ramp to golf carts which serve as the sole form of motorized transport on the island.  But before we leave the dock, here’s a shot of J and A and the boat which carried us faithfully (most of the time, but that’s a story for another time) back and forth, to and fro:

Captain and crew
Captain and crew

Once on the island, it is as though time stopped entirely about one hundred years ago.  Aside from electricity and running water (occasionally the internet),  that’s just the way the inhabitants like it, and so do I.  Cottages are dotted about along winding paths with a few larger buildings for community gatherings.  As the same sets of families and renters have been coming here literally for generations, there is a remarkable sense of Brigadoon to this place, particularly when the mists swirl and loons cry.  Here’s a particularly lovely shot:

Island enchantment
Island enchantment

A slightly different angle in roughly the same location gives you another look:

Mac bridge

Once at J’s cottage, it’s quick to unpack the things that have to go in the fridge, drop the bags, pour something cool and refreshing, and head out to the porch for some serious R&R.  I could watch this view forever.  Here’s an arty shot of the porch from inside the kitchen (aka where the computer could sometimes get a signal):


Amber loves the porch.  Not only do we hang out there as much as possible, but she can quickly spot neighbors coming to chat (WOOF! WOOF! WOOF!), dog friends coming to roam (WOOF! WOOF! WOOF!) or squirrels coming to annoy and challenge to a duel (WOOF! WOOF! WOOF!)  The woof mistress herself is one of the most delightful creatures I have ever met, and darn photogenic to boot:

Got bone?
Got bone?

I think you’re getting the idea.  Simply mahvahlous, dahling. Add good food, good friends, good walks in the woods, good trips to shore to hunt and gather, good chats, well, as the saying goes, “It’s all good.”  Sooo, pounds added, memories stored up for later, bags packed, I headed back to Portland at long last to reclaim my Portland cat Squeaky (yay!), re-inhabit my condo, and restart the academic year.  More soonish.

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3 Responses to Mainly Maine

  1. It looks delightful. Welcome home, friend.

  2. Janet Stebbins says:

    Miss it all! Thanks!

  3. Tori says:

    Places like this can’t help but put your past year into perspective! Good luck with the start of the new academic year and a restart to living life in Portland again.

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