This will be my last post from Maine until some time in July of 2027. We leave tomorrow morning coming home. In 2026 we were fortunate enough to spend six weeks here back in the summer and another three weeks for our Fall visit. This is a tremendous blessing that we never take for granted.
Today we drove into Camden for a last breakfast in town. Then we’ve spent most of the day packing everything up, cleaning up after ourselves as we go. The wind has been blowing hard today on the lake, from the north making it feel like it’s in the middle 40’s. Tonight we will make a potluck meal after what we have left in the fridge, watch an episode or two of our favorite show at the moment—Shetland, then we will settle in for the first game of the World Series, a wonderful way to spend our last night in this magical place.
Over the past three weeks I’ve managed to read three books, write a couple of chapters of the latest one I’m working on, and put together two challenging puzzles. I’ve kayaked and fished, taken plenty of invigorating walks and eaten some fabulous food. But mostly what Pam and I have been doing is riding around gawking at the stunning Fall foliage all around us. I’ve attached two photographs to this post, the first of which is one that Pam took this morning of a tree right at the entrance to the lake on Pond Road. Despite it being the 23rd of October, and our part of the State being beyond the peak season, this particular tree continues to wow us every time we drive past.
The second picture is of a tiny structure on Moody Mountain Road, maybe three or four miles from the lake. I’ve passed it a couple dozen times over the years and have always been both intrigued and fascinated by the place. Its stands there in a field, isolated and mysterious. There are no other structures near by. There are no power lines attached. And bizarrely there isn’t a path that leads to or away from the road. No signs of any vehicle ever having visited, not even a discernable footpath. It just sits there surrounded by an unplowed field, its purpose unknown. One little window, a narrow stoop in front of a snappy yellow door. Although it’s small, it is handsomely constructed. Whoever built it took care to produce something attractive. But for what purpose? If you were so inclined, you could write a story about a tiny structure like this.
Yes, I think so…
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