Just returned from a week in Maine at the beautiful home of dear friends. We had a wonderful time, saw much of the Penobscot Bay area with its charming lighthouses, sailing vessels and the ubiquitous lobster traps, not to mention the lobster! We enjoyed a terrific concert of Brahms Violin Sonatas at the Rockport Opera House one evening, took a sunset cruise on a schooner where we were dazzled by the incredible sunset (it was Tom's birthday and the captain even let him steer for a few minutes!) We ate and drank too much great food and great wine, of course, but that's what vacations are for. Our hosts offered us every possible comfort. I must say, however, that Maine is one heck of a long way from Arizona! I could see that on the map, of course, but until you have spent all...and I do mean all...day on three planes with luggage glitches and nothing to eat but airplane peanuts, you don't really know how far it is! Suffice it to say we were mighty glad to get there and ever so glad to get home. I'm grateful to live in a place I love so much that it is always a joy to return.
Here are a few lines penned while soaking in the beauty and peace:
Time in Maine
The bay, splashed with diamond dust in the morning sun,
rocks its skiffs on the ripples and licks at the smoothing stones.
This place, so sturdy, so green, hearty with independence,
gives the air a significance, a relevance to the endurance
of place, and everywhere the soaring trees proclaim
their fierceness while faithful lights guard the wide, wild coast.
Remote shores summon those who crave a quiet mind
to abandon expectation, to absorb hardship, to soften
demands and invite fresh eyes to invigorate again.