Soggy Start

The first days of summer came slowly to mid-coast Maine, as a week full of rain, wind, and cool temperatures settled over the region, seemingly refusing to budge. The temperature the past few days barely reached the 60 degree mark. Nights have been downright cold, thank god I still have something left in my furnace. Many a northern New Englander knows that subtle facial cringe that comes when the thermostat is turned up 6 days shy of July. Lately when it hasn't rained, it has misted, and when the mist finally dies down, the clouds continue to hover, always threatening to deposit more precipation on the already soaked green grass of the coast. Finally, there is the fog, that ever persistent pea soup thick fog that blankets roads and fields and wipes away any chance of visibility on the water or off. Stand on the corner of the town dock in Tenants Harbor and you will see nothing but white, swirly mist. Wait a few more minutes, and out of nowhere, lobsterboats and sailboats will drift by, suddenly appearing out of the fog like ghosts from the sea. The beauty of a foggy day in Maine is the reward that follows it, for when the fog lifts and that bright blue sky appears, the sun will shine on your face with an urgency that will will leave you breathless and at ease. The water sparkles around you again, and the cool winds of the ocean will once more lift your spirts and give you an energy that moves you through the rest of the day. The summer may have gotten off to a soggy start, but start it did, and finish it has not. Optimism remains, just like the potential for crappy weather. We take what we can get here in coastal Maine, and we cherish every heavenly minute of it.

Island Breeze

The sand was cool beneath my feet as I moved the kayak towards the water. All around me, the early morning wind swirled and swept across the harbor. The sun was creeping up above the pine trees across the shore, slowly rising, inching its way up into the sky. Mosquito harbor was dead silent this morning. No one to be found as the 6 o'clock hour approached. I carefully positioned the my craft at the waters edge, and pushed my way out onto the water, which stood still as glass on this beautiful June morning. I dipped my paddles into the cold ocean, rythimically sweeping back and forth as the kayak began to glide away from the shore. A few seagulls soared above me, as I set my course for the opposite side of the harbor. I headed towards Stevens Island, a tiny piece of jagged rock that sits in the middle of Mosquito harbor like a tractor sits in the middle of a large field. On the island, there are two wooden structures, both resembling small cabins. Tall spruce tress surround the structures, and jagged rocks surround the spruce. On top of one of the trees, a large Osprey nest rests against the branches. Every now and then, the majestic bird will come and go, crying out into the early morning whenever another bird comes close. I pulled up to a sandy spit on the backside of the island. I parked my craft and began to wonder the small isle, hopping from rock to rock. The wind was rushing past my face, as the waves began to kick up. The smell of the air was positively sublime. It is truly hard to describe to someone how the ocean smells on a clear summer morning in coastal Maine. You simply have to be there to experience it, no cell phone video or Youtube clip could ever come close. There is something about the light of the sky, the stillness of the water, and the feel of the wind. It is a truly special feeling, one that cannot be replicated in any other form. As I pulled away from the island, I pointed my craft out towards the open ocean. The swells began to get bigger, the wind stronger and the air clearer. I felt as if I was leaving the real world for a new one, a world filled with the brightest of blue oceans and the greenest of green trees. Steady as the sun above me, I paddled and paddled, each stroke beringinging my mind closer to the peaceful aura that enveloped me. God I love this month, it is and always will be the most beautiful time of the year!

Buttercups and Belted Galloways

A full moon rose over Penobscot Bay last night, illuminating Camden Harbor with a soft glow that shimmered over the water and cast ghostly shadows over the quiet streets of town. As the sun rose the next morning, a cool breeze kicked off the bay, keeping the temperatures in the high 50's. It was a beautiful June morning, one that never seemed to end. White puffy clouds raced across the sky. Green grass swayed back and forth in the breeze. Buttercups, Lupines and Dogwoods all bloomed in the sun, as the sweet smell of the ocean danced through the air. All was quiet down at Rockport harbor. Yawls, schooners, and powerboats sat at their respective moorings, seemingly itching to get out on the bay and play all day in the southwesterly breeze. A few fishermen loaded up their gear and headed out for the morning. A lone seagull soared in the distance, his white wings skimming across the top of the water, leaving a perfect ripple in their wake. Barely past 6 in the morning, the harbor was still, and still is how I like it. Alone and in my own little world, I walked down to the shore, and took in my surroundings. The air was so sublime that I wanted to bottle it up and sell it for a million dollars. The sun felt warm on my face and the sand felt cool beneath my feet. Lupines, those lovely purple harbingers of summer, stood erect on the hills behind me, their familiar forms casting silhouettes on the shadowy grass. I walked up the road to Aldermere Farm, where the Buttercups dominated the sloping fields, as Belted Galloways grazed in the early morning light. A few horses lingered in the corner of the farm, as a furry Golden Retriever lounged across the gravel entrance to the property. The sun rose higher in the sky, and the temperature continued to rise. The clouds had all but disappeared by now. Nothing above but a brilliant blue sky. What a perfect morning it was!

June's Sweet Song

Of all the months of the year, June has always been my favorite. September and October may have their dazzling foliage, December and January, their pure white snow, and July and August may have their warm breezes, but the month of June has a soft, gentle aura that lingers in the air and blankets the coast in a swirl of sumptuous smells. The aroma of freshly cut grass, the heavenly smell of Lupines in an ocean side field, or the cool and salty taste of a heavy afternoon fog all give the sixth month a distinct flavor of it's own. June signals the end of spring, but the beginning of summer. The light of day is at it's longest in June, as shadows dance across quiet roads well past 8:30. Summer Tourists begin to arrive in June. Sailboats begin to fill the harbors. Restaurants serve patrons on outside decks and street side tables. Lovers walk slowly by the ocean, hands held, as children ride their bikes and kick their soccer balls until the light finally fades around 9. Sometimes after work, I stroll down my street towards town, happily letting the ocean breeze wash over me. A few sailboats lazily drift by out on Penobscot Bay, their sails billowing in the distance. I stop every few blocks to smell the flowers that pour out of the stately gardens of Bayview Street. I watch as a line begins to form outside of the small ice cream shop, where well dressed couples mix with sunburned locals. Stores along Main street keep their doors open all day long, as yellow labs and golden retrievers lounge on the sidewalks, their tails wagging at every passerby. The windjammers come and go, some for the day, others for the week. Passengers roll on and off the old wooden ships, thier respective destinations differing from a short sail around North Haven, to a week long journey up to Mt. Desert Island and through Blue Hill bay. June is a time for reflection, a time to look back on the winter that was and to reflect on the upcoming joys of a summer spent on the Maine coast. As I make my way back to my loft, I can sense the light fading from the blue sky above. I climb my stairs, which lay covered in shadows and lay down on my bed. The sweet smell of summer moves through my windows, as I close my eyes and listen to the birds sing their nighttime songs. The month of June is here. All is right with the world.