Quirky. Peculiar. Beautiful.

The weather this week has been rather dismal, but we’ve been here almost six weeks. The place owes us nothing. So I went out for a walk this morning since it wasn’t raining. There’s a dirt road that runs all the way up the western side of the lake. I walked up and back, around 3 miles. Only this time I wasn’t walking for the health benefits, I was just taking it all in since we’ll be leaving in a few days.

People often ask me questions like, “I’m sure Maine is great but…six weeks?” or “What makes Maine so special, Virginia has beautiful places too.” My honest answer to them is something along the lines of, There’s just something about this place that’s…different. But it is quite difficult to put it into words. This morning on my walk I ran across several examples of what I would call the peculiar charm of this place. There is a vibe here that can best be described as quirky. I took a few pictures that attempt to capture a bit of this quirkiness.

I have no idea what the story is behind this odd scene, but yes…that’s a hat perched on the top of a twiggy tree on the side of Pond Road. I inspected the hat to see if it was defective in any way and found it to be in good condition. Apparently, its former owner decided that the time had come to part company so he found a convenient twiggy tree on the side of the road to place it on the oft chance that a hatless person might come along, place it on his or her head and begin a lifelong relationship.

The trees up here are huge, in both height and circumference. Many of them are several hundred years old. But when trees grow so towering and ancient, it takes them forever to die. They just stand there, looking more and more diabolical by the year. I’m telling you guys, there are some scary-ass trees up here.

Another thing you see all over the place in Maine are rocks, huge, ponderous boulders strewn willy-nilly all over creation. I suppose since there are so many of them, it explains the existence of literally a thousand miles worth of rock fences.

Some are weathered by 300 winters, and starting their slow decline back into the soil from which they came.

Others are younger, more structurally sound, solid as the day they were built. Looking at them lined up in field after field reminds you that our fore-bearers carved a hard life out of this stubborn soil. They worked hard, and that work should be honored.

Again, since rocks seem to be everywhere, the good people up here never tire of putting them to no good use by erecting these weird small statues on top of larger rocks unlucky enough to have flat tops. As you can see, some of these statue builders go to great elaborate lengths in their artistic and architectural efforts.

But, even in Maine there is no escaping that scourge of 21st century artistic expression…minimalism.

Of course, one of the most arresting and beautiful sights in Maine are the labyrinth of dirt roads that snake their way through the deep forests leading you to your lake house. This one is typical of such roads and comes with the quite mundane name, Fire Lane 6. Every single one of these roads makes me want to walk down them. I just have to see what lies beyond that curve where the path is covered in pine needles. These lanes, paths and trails are all invitations, each one a delight.

So, all of this, in a delightfully quirky 3 mile walk along the western edge of Quantabacook.

Then later, we drove into Lincolnville Beach for lunch and I found this and I was almost undone with gratitude for this place. This is exactly what it looks like, a place where anyone can come and help themselves to free fresh produce, in the hopes that sometime later you will bring some of your own and place them in the coolers for the next person.

Quirky. Peculiar. Beautiful.