Sweet Reunion

When I was a child, I spent countless hours playing in the sweet sands of Crescent Beach in Martinsville. Just a mile down the road from our summerhouse, Crescent was always known around town as the quieter of the two town beaches, with Drift Inn beach in Port Clyde being the more crowded option. About a half mile long, the beach is bordered on the west by Mosquito harbor, and to the east by Mosquito Head, a quintessential point of coastal Maine land, featuring crashing surf, giant, jagged rocks, and the sweetest smelling spruce trees you could ever imagine. I would spend my summer afternoons running around the rocks of Mosquito Head, then come back to the beach and cool myself off with a quick dip in the frigid waters of Penobscot Bay. Some of my fondest memories came while exploring this spectacular piece of land. When I was 14, those memories turned into nightmares, when a wealthy individual swept into town and bought up the whole beach and the surrounding area, including Mosquito Head. Once the land was bought, the beach became private, and Mosquito Head was officially off limits. My heart was broken, along with many of the Peninsula's seasoned beach goers, who got together and formed a committee to, "save Martinsville beach." Town meetings were held, and many discussions were had. To make matter even worse, the owner, who has never made himself known publicly, installed an electronic gate at the entrance to the beach road, further pouring salt in the towns collective wound. In the end, nothing was done, and the land has remained private. For years, I have dreamed of sneaking onto Mosquito head, where I could once again walk the beautiful windy paths that weave in and out of large clumps of spruce trees and swaying sea grass. Yesterday, on the final day of July, I made my way across Mosquito Harbor in my old kayak, determined to land on Crescent Beach and enter the forbidden realm of Mosquito Head. The day was simply spectacular. Temperatures were in the low 70's, the sky was a deep blue, and a few strands of wispy white clouds stretched across the sky. The water was choppy, but felt lovely on my skin as it splashed up against the side of my kayak, which bobbed up and down as it slid through the bay. I made my way across the harbor, paddling my ass off, all the while enjoying the breathless breeze that caressed my sunburned face. I made it to Crescent in 30 minutes. I beached the kayak and immediately began to prowl the beach, snapping my faithful Nikon at every turn. The sand was pure white, and the water lapping up against it was a mix of green and blue, which molded into a gorgeous shade of turquoise. After leaving the beach, I set off for Mosquito head, carefully scouting out a safe place to land my kayak. I found a snug little cove on the other side of the point, where I quickly ditched my craft, and scrambled up the rocks to the safety of the stately spruce trees. I smiled as soon as the smell hit me. That sweet, savory smell of spruce trees, sea grass, and salt water. The sun poured through the trees and cast shadows on the rocks and the surrounding shrubbery. The air was still in the forest, not a sound to be heard anywhere. I took off my sandals and jumped from rock to rock, forgetting all my cares in the world. My heart was racing, my soul was free, and my childhood had momentarily been recaptured. I spent another hour lounging on the rocks, and moseying through the forest. I jumped back into my kayak, raced across the bay, and made it back to our house in time for a quick dinner on the deck. What a day it had been! Just a classic Maine summer day, spent under a beautiful sky of blue, surrounded by the glorious waters of the Penobscot Bay, the white sands of Crescent beach, and the towering pines of Mosquito Head. It was a day to be remembered, a time of wonder for all to be had.