I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me that this might happen, we all knew it would, but it came as a total surprise to me. I had painted during the day until my hand was a claw and quit work and walked to the point for sunset. It was windy and cold and I kept trying to tuck in under the cover of rocks while I waited. The days are already growing longer, sunset is at 4:00 pm.
I’m reminded I have to return to this site at high tide, and when it’s windy, to see the waves crash in this cut. The ground covers catch my eye, especially since I spend so much time looking at my feet when I walk on rocks.
But back to the sunset.
Here’s proof that the sun really is a star. Every shot I took captured a six pointed star.
I hiked around the point, still trying to keep out of the wind, and after I found a stable place to stand, I turned around and was stunned to find this handsome fellow.
What a treat. Full moon should make our night rounds easy, no flashlights needed.
There is no doubt about it, things will change. And to confirm it, I saw a sun halo yesterday while we hiked at low tide out to an island. A very brief internet search called this a sun dog, sun rainbow and a whirling rainbow. It was thought to be a sign of change by Native Americans.
Specifically, weather will change while a front blows though today but I can only hope that a lot more will change. My Christmas wishes: the pandemic will ebb and we can hold our distant loved ones again, safe and healthy; people will get along respectfully, listen to one another and be kind. During my eight hour drive the other day, a John Denver song, “Country Road” came on the radio. It made me think what a different time that had been. So much gentler.
Tim asked me to walk across the great abyss with him. He found a way over large slippery rocks and boulders with seaweed and streams thrown in for fun. I began, then said no way. You have fun. I often balk at his adventures and sometimes rightly so. I’ll admit this time I was wrong. After I gave up and walked along the road and he continued onward, I saw a much more reasonable path over small gravel. So after he disappeared, I too made it to Little Moose Island.
And as usual, it was worth it.
Here’s the view looking back to where we are living. There is a water tower on the shore and our townhouse is back in there.
The island with its rock formations, surprisingly reminded me of Barn Rock (my favorite place) on Deal Island – on the other side of the world and in a different hemisphere. We are all from the same core after all.
I watched these clouds form a heart and it filled me with gratitude.
Or, now that I look at them, maybe I was already thankful and thought I saw a heart.
We made it ashore before the tide washed away our path. I look forward to more adventures with this guy.
Happy holidays and to wishes for a healthy, happy, peaceful New Year.
I committed to return home to work a couple of days a month. I should be committed. It has taken ten days of travel and quarantine and three Covid tests to work two days. Needless to say, I won’t be working in January in the hope that travel restrictions may eventually ease again, they have to right?
Before heading home, we took a lovely hike in Acadia proper, around Jordan Pond and up the South Bubble. It included a at least a half mile or more of “board” walk. There was a lovely bridge around the inflow/outflow?
Beaver activity was evident.
Pacman tree
There were some rocks to climb at the end, as there always are, and the views were spectacular.
South Bubble, Acadia National Park
We drove by the Thunder Hole, but the tide wasn’t quite right. We heard little burps instead but will return again two hours before the high tide. A low cave captures air and then releases it in a burst of sound when conditions are right.
This is one of the few working boats we have seen since we arrived in Maine.
There were some gnarly trees along the way.
Determined to take root
We returned home to one of my better quiches. I don’t have power tools in the apartment in Maine so I made a pie crust by grating the butter. It was pretty crisp.
Then I hit the road for the eight hour journey home. The ride went by fast, as I drove through the White Mountains of NH and the Green Mountains of Central VT to arrive home to our mountains in the Adks.
To my shock and dismay, critters quickly moved in. When the cat’s away… This porcupine came lumbering out from under my front porch. I think he thought he was invisible by ducking his head on the other side of the tree he climbed.
He left plenty of sign: footprints all over the deck and some scat!
We had problems with mice in Eddie, our 2004 Ford Explorer, all fall. I had to replace Eddie’s battery this trip (in 8 below 0 temp) and checked the glove box where I had placed a dryer sheet, to dissuade the mice. A few droppings but…they had eaten the plysplit woven key holder I had left in the car. It was shredded and unwoven.
While I did my laundry, I looked for the handwoven bag that holds the clothes pins. I found it in the outside basement alcove, also eaten.
As I reflect on it, this must mean my textiles have good taste, or at least taste good. I cut away the shredded part of the bag and put it back in the alcove in case it comes in handy for a mouse house.
We hope to continue dodging bullets. Another employee had to quarantine due to secondary exposure so we haven’t met yet. We had last week to ourselves and spent time exploring. Sometimes it’s the small things that matter. I found a way to bushwhack to the beautiful shore without crossing any roads. Small victory. But the other day, I lost my oldest face mask. One that I sewed early on and carried with me during my daily walks since March. It wasn’t necessarily my favorite, but we’ve been together through snow, rain and heat and a good part of the pandemic.
While I was exploring the rocky coast, I saw another person! I took out my mask but we stayed far apart and it wasn’t needed. Then I bushwhacked back home. Somewhere along the way, I lost my mask. I was actually mildly distraught. Not really, but it was the mask that I had kept looped on my phone holder (made from a cross stitch project I made in my teens, with a new tablet woven band added) for all that time. So yesterday, we retraced my steps. On the way out, nothing. It had been very windy when I lost it so I looked in the bushes surrounding the trail. While Tim wandered further down the rocks, some of which were icy, I kept looking. Nothing. So we headed home.
The beginning of the walk is a little uncertain and we had to backtrack, just like I did the other day. And then…there frozen in a puddle, was my missing mask. My day was made. If we hadn’t become a little turned around, it could still be lying there. Small victory.
I saw this heart rock while hiking the other day and it cheered me up.
Nature’s colors are often inspirations for art and crafts. I think this rainbow hat mirrors the ground covers.
A lot of research is conducted in the park. I took a closer look at these garden plots because they had some colors I was surprised to see in nature and wanted to see what little plants they were. Instead they turned out to be tiny plastic swords – markers for a plant project? Or perhaps signs of an end of season party.
Island and North Country Life 