It took a while this year, but spring is now most definitely here. Tulips are blooming, lilacs are budding, and over the last few days a couple of sailboats have drifted past my office window. It’s all the more enjoyable because it took so darned long to get here this year.
Now’s the time to start thinking of summer vacations, so why not consider a tour of some or all of Maine’s iconic lighthouses? One of my favorites is Pemaquid Light, located in New Harbor on the Pemaquid Peninsula. This is lighthouse on the back of the Maine state quarter. Nothing beats seeing it in person, however. Pemaquid Light sits on a cliff overlooking the ocean. Waves crash over the rocks below, and the whole scene is a photographer’s dream, especially at daybreak and at sunset. The former keeper’s house is now a lovely little maritime museum run by volunteers. And all but the shortest visitors are welcome to climb the steep stairs into the light itself for some incredible views. (Alas, for safety reasons very small children will have to wait until they grow a bit.) A little park surrounds the lighthouse and there’s usually ample parking at a minimal per person fee.
I’ll write about some of Maine’s other lighthouses in future posts. Until then, have fun planning a visit to beautiful New England where spring has sprung at last!
Author: karenhammond
Marathon Monday
It’s Patriots’ Day here in Maine as well as in Massachusetts, with lots of attention being paid to the Boston Marathon. Congrats to all who ran and all who cheered them on, and special congratulations to the winner of the men’s division — the first American to win in decades and a nice way to cap this year’s event. If you are in Boston this week, be sure to visit the Boston Public Library to see the commemorative display of tributes left at last year’s spontaneous memorial in Copley Square.
The sun is shining and the weather was perfect for this year’s race. I’ll leave you with one of my favorite photos taken in a small section of last year’s marathon memorial. If you look closely, among the Boston Red Sox caps and runners’ visors you can spot hard hats from construction workers, signed caps from visitors all over the country, and running shoes hung in tribute. If you haven’t visited this great city, I hope you’ll put it on your personal bucket list. You won’t be disappointed!
Boston Strong — and Stronger
It was wonderful to see the people of Boston come together again yesterday on the anniversary of the Boston bombing. What a great city. I’m a little prejudiced of course because I grew up in the suburbs and lived in Back Bay for a few years after college. When you’re young and single, there’s no better place to live. Along with fabulous colleges, great museums, world-class restaurants, and of course all that history waiting around every corner, it’s a unique and exciting place.
I wanted to share this photo with those who may not have been to Boston yet. It’s a nice panoramic view from a hotel window. Those of you who love Fenway Park will recognize it near the top center of the image.
I’ll be back to chat some more on Marathon Monday. Meanwhile, let’s all keep the families touched by last year’s tragedy in mind and remember, as well, all the good and kind people from Boston and beyond who went out of their way to help them. This year’s marathon promises to be bigger and better than ever — Boston Strong, indeed.
Spring Comes to a Small Maine Island
March is certainly not going out like a lamb here on my small island in Maine. On Wednesday high winds blew down trees and took out electric lines for more than 12 hours, as if winter were not giving up without a fight. But I’m happy to report that as I walked around the island today, still bundled in a winter coat, hat, gloves, and two scarves, I could just feel the soft fingers of spring beneath all that bluster. So, maybe, just maybe, we can talk about something besides the weather.
First, though, I do want to give a shout-out to all the small towns like mine across America where people pitch in to help each other. I routinely check in on an elderly widowed neighbor, but it was my turn to accept help during the recent lights-out. My husband was out of town on a business trip, the temperature was in the 20s, and I couldn’t get our cranky generator started. Thank goodness for the mechanically-inclined lobsterman up the street who came to my rescue. When you live in a remote area like this, everyone’s talents are needed and appreciated.
On to April. A few more lobstering boats are showing up in the harbor although our summer visitors are still keeping their distance until the snow disappears and it warms up. We really won’t see most of them until June, although a few will rumble across the bridge late next month and throughout May. Finally, it’s time to at least think about gardening, boating, and all the good stuff that comes with living in Maine or elsewhere in New England. If you’re looking for vacation ideas, you may find just what you’re looking for in my guidebook-for-people-who-don’t-like-guidebooks: Backroads & Byways of New England: Drives, Day Trips & Weekend Excursions. Happy vacation planning, wherever you dream of visiting.
Springtime in Maine
At last…the first full day of spring is upon us, the sun is shining, the birds are tweeting ecstatically and we can almost overlook the still-huge mounds of snow blanketing our small Maine island. There are no signs of summer tourists yet, and with another big snowstorm on tap for next week, it’s unlikely that we’ll be seeing them any time soon. At this time of year, I think all of us (about 100 brave souls) who live here year round give ourselves a virtual pat on the back for making it through another winter. And this winter was exceptionally cold and snowy, even for New England.
As I’ve chatted about before on this blog, those of us who love New England in general, and Maine in particular, wouldn’t live anywhere else. The seasons of the year do mimic our lives when you think about it…springtime when everything is fresh and new and anything is possible; summer when the world, and we, are at our peak; autumn when life both outside and within slows down and we become more contemplative; and of course winter, the sunset of the year and of our lives.
Speaking of sunsets, the vernal equinox sunset was spectacular. It’s the kind of scene that has inspired so many Maine artists and writers through the years. Let’s hope there are many more gorgeous sunsets to come as spring arrives on our quiet island.
“March”ing Toward Spring in Maine
My little island feels isolated from the world today, wrapped as it is in heavy fog and swirling snow. Enough already. It’s March and we should be looking for daffodil shoots and crocuses, not spreading sand on the driveway in hopes of getting out sometime soon. This has been a real old-fashioned New England winter, but at least those of us who toughed it out will have excellent bragging rights when the summer people return. The former island store used to have sign up that read, “If you’re not here in the winter, you don’t deserve to be here in the summer.” A little snarky, maybe, but those of us who stay out here all winter appreciated the thought.
There’s one bright spot. Birds are definitely returning. We have a pair of pileated woodpeckers busy in the trees, I’ve seen a couple of robins, and a pair of chickadees actually seem to be in nesting mode. I hope not, for their sakes, as another heavy snowstorm is due within a few days.
Spring is just a little more than a week away. It’s always a glorious season in Maine….and never more appreciated than it will be this year.
February: The Longest Month
There’s an old joke that February is the shortest month of the year because New Englanders couldn’t stand it to be one day longer. This year February has seemed particularly long–in the last week alone we’ve seen sub-zero temperatures, several light snowstorms, clear, sunny days, and a thunderstorm. But tomorrow the month finally comes to an end and we can welcome March and, perhaps, some early signs of spring.
Here on my small Maine island the deer are so desperate for food that they have devoured huge chunks of my holly bushes and I expect they are waiting ravenously for the first tulips to poke through the ground. That will be a while, however, as the snow drifts are still several feet high in the gardens. I can feel the mood around town lightening as the days continue to grow longer, the snowstorms grow lighter, and the sun shines more brightly. Today as I look out my office window, sunlight is breaking through the cloud cover and the sky is pale blue instead of gray. And on my early morning walk I heard a few birds chirping and actually spotted a robin. Spring is coming and my quiet island will awaken again.
Winter Wonderland in Maine
This year’s long, cold Maine winter does have some bright spots, including the winter wonderland we awake to every time we have a fresh snowfall. Today is one of those days. Although it’s bitterly cold outside, I have a great view from my office window of clear blue skies and whitecaps dancing across azure water while seagulls soar overhead.
When you spend winter on a small island with about 100 other hardy people, you quickly learn to help each other out. Last week more than 100 people, including of course some who came over from the mainland, attended a benefit potluck supper at the little island church’s community hall. All the proceeds went to help a local family whose business recently burned down. That kind of camaraderie is one of the best things about living in Maine.
Cold or not, sunny days like this one bring out walkers, and this morning I saw people I haven’t run across in weeks, bundled up to their eyes but determined to get out and about. It has been a rough winter even by Maine standards, but with the end of February in sight, everyone is looking forward to spring….eventually. Meanwhile, we slide to the store in the morning for the newspapers, cross-country ski in our own back yards, and experiment with meals that take all day to cook and warm up the kitchen while they’re bubbling along. Pretty soon I should be reporting on the first returning birds and the first crocus sightings….just not this week, I expect, as another 4-8 inches of snow are predicted within the next few days.
February on a Small Maine Island
With the sun shining, everything that’s good about living in a remote corner of Maine comes into clear focus. This morning, for example, I took my usual two-mile walk around the island, ending up at one of our two tiny cafe-stores to buy the newspaper. Although clear and sunny — really a gorgeous day — it is also bitterly cold, and many of the local lobstermen were inside drinking coffee and waiting for things to warm up a bit before heading out.
Their pickup trucks were lined up nose to nose outside the cafe, a couple with the engines still running, and every one with the keys still in the ignition. Although I’m used to seeing this, for some reason this morning I was very aware of how lucky I am to be living in a place where you can confidently park your vehicle, keys and all, and enjoy your day without a worry about your car or truck being stolen. No great philosophical awakening here….just a quick reminder that I’m pretty darned lucky. it was a fortuitous start to my morning (and I’ll have to remember it tomorrow when another 8 inches of snow are predicted and we’ll all be back to grumbling about the weather).
The Joy of Winter
I’m tired of complaining about winter weather: time to focus on all that’s good about a winter that is not yet half over but seems endless. Let’s see…..there’s plenty of time to tackle a major project since days go by when it’s difficult or impossible to get out of a long Maine driveway covered in ice. Life slows down to a manageable pace. I actually had a couple of phone conversations over the weekend instead of resorting to hasty emails. The house is looking spiffy thanks to a mid-winter clean-up. And, I must admit, it is fun to get out in the snow now and then even if doing so requires multiple layers of clothing and boots up to my knees.
Here on my small Maine island, village life revolves around the local post office (arrive just before noon if there’s someone you’ve been trying to catch up with) where posters announce everything that’s going on in town, as well as the two small cafes. We check those out often for coffee and news — OK good-natured gossip. It’s a quiet life to be sure, but come spring — and it is coming, right? — I’ll be pleased that I’ve managed to get a pile of work done and had a little break from life’s usual hectic pace. But I will admit that a little sunshine at this point, after umpty-up gray days, would not hurt at all. We’ll just call that last thought an “observation” instead of a complaint!