Transformation

Woke up to 58 degrees this morning with every window in the cabin open and only one thin sheet covering me. I quickly pulled up the bedspread and covered Pam, then grabbed a long sleeve shirt and long pants out of the closet. My coffee taste especially good. Lucy is typically nonplussed…

It has taken a bit longer this year, but its finally starting to happen. The transformation. There are several reasons for its later than usual arrival, the back incident, arriving here carrying a heavier than normal anxiety burden, but Maine is slowly working its magic. Each day I spend less time looking at my cell phone. Each day I notice more of the beauty around me. Each day I consume less news. I finished reading a novel, The Magpie Murders by Anthony Horowitz, then started a second last night, Becoming Mrs. Lewis by Patti Callahan. I received an excellent recommendation for a third from a friend, which I will purchase when we next drive to Belfast from the lovely bookstore there called Left Bank Books, or maybe I’ll pick up a copy at The Owl and Turtle in Camden.

Pam has taken up cross-stitching again, after having given it up 35 years ago when being the mother of two young children stole from her the concept of free time. In the evenings when it finally gets dark here—a little after 9:00—I glance over at her quietly intense face, reading glasses on the bridge of her nose, hair pulled back in a ponytail and think that it might be the most peaceful thing I’ve ever seen. Suddenly she says, “This is what people used to do at night before cell phones, I guess.”

There’s this tree here that catches my attention every time I walk through this cabin. Its just outside the window beside the dining room table. The morning sun lights it up from the east, and the evening sun from the west. It never seems to be out of the sun’s glare. Since almost every day since we arrived its been breezy, the leaves are always dancing this way and that. I always notice, more every day. There’s nothing extraordinary about it. Its not much of a tree. But it captures my imagination every time I look at it. The grill is out there underneath its branches. This is the sort of thing that I would never even notice at home. Here, it becomes a symbol of some kind, a reminder of where I am and how lucky I am to be here. I think I should take a picture of it, but I’m sure it will disappoint. Its hard to capture delight.

Made it all the way down to the dam yesterday, my fishing hole of choice. The lake is low this year. For the first time ever, the top of the dam was dry. Last year, after a heavy rainstorm, I kayaked over top of the thing, there being no evidence of its existence! Usually when I stand on the top of it to fish, my feet are submerged to the top of my ankles. This time, I had to step lively to avoid the goose poop. Caught three beautiful bass.

The forecast is for sun and 78 today. We have no specific plans for the day. We’ve had no plans for any day since we showed up here. Pam has made a couple grocery trips to Belfast. We drove to Camden one morning for breakfast and some shopping. I might run over to the Fraternity General Store this morning to pick up a spinner, and maybe grab a whoopie-pie if Amanda has made any. Her’s are excellent, but not quite as on point as the ones at Camden Deli. Tonight I thought we might go out for dinner. Maybe Delfino’s in Belfast or The Waterfront in Camden. Or maybe not. We’ll just have to see how we feel later this afternoon.

Reading back over this, I can understand if some of you might read it and say…that sounds like one boring vacation! That’s fair. We look at it differently. For us Maine is like a great uncoiling, a de-briefing from modern life. It might take longer than it used to, but it never fails to happen.