Back Home at Loon Landing

Yesterday was moving day. We packed up all of our stuff from our two weeks at Summer Dreams and moved down the lake about 1500 feet to the place that first captured our imaginations over ten years ago, the magical Loon Landing. It was a difficult day. Maine, along with just about everyone else, is in the midst of a heat wave, yesterday’s high temperature reached 89 with suddenly NO WIND. When you’re sweating and there’s no air conditioning and no breeze, the only relief is going for a swim. So, around 6:00 last night all three of us did just that. Pam and I took advantage of the still conditions by breaking out the floats. Lucy, who is never more relaxed than when we are all together in one place, swam circles around our floats, occasionally coming over to lay her head on the arm of the float, close her eyes and just hang there in the water for a nap. It was adorable.

Perhaps I should give you guys a tour of the place. When you enter the door of the main cabin this is what you see.

Wall to wall glass with magnificent lake views. Walk up a tricky, very upright set of stairs and you are in a bedroom with a spectacular view. This is where some of the most epic naps of my entire life have been taken.

But, as cute as the inside of the place is, the action is outside. This is where we eat our meals.

This is the amazing deck that stops practically at the water’s edge.

The dock provides great views not just of the lake but especially of the cabin.

Loon Landing even comes with a sandy beach.

There’s a guest house just behind the cabin which has housed many of our friends over the years.

When you pull up into the driveway this is what you see.

So, this will be home for the next 4 weeks. In our hearts it is always home away from home.

My Maine Job

Tomorrow we move down the lake a few football fields to Loon Landing. Pam will make several trips over dirt roads with our stuff while I will paddle down the lake at the head of a two kayak, one paddle board flotilla. We have enjoyed our two weeks at Summer Dreams. The weather has been great, aside from the fact that the past three days and the next two have featured much hotter than normal temperature, which for Maine means upper 80’s and humid. I know enough about what is happening back home in Richmond and many other parts of the country to be careful about complaining about 88. But, keep in mind that there is no air conditioning up here. However, we do have a clean and refreshing lake to jump in anytime we want maybe 30 feet from the cabin. Once we arrive at Loon Landing the distance from deck to water shrinks from 30 feet to three.

I am firmly entrenched in my Maine summer reading. Each year when I come up here I devote myself to reading for pleasure instead of work. 

I picked up a couple of these at Hope Thrift, the rest I bought at the most adorable book store in all of Maine, Camden’s The Owl and Turtle. I’ve finished two of these already, three to go, plus another book that I had to order from Owl and Turtle which should arrive soon…

That’s Christopher Buckley, Bill’s son, who writes the kind of satire that has always been my favorite—unflinching and hilarious. Can’t wait. By the time August the 20th rolls around and we have to head back home I’ll have finished probably eight books, or roughly the same amount of books it takes me the rest of the year to read.

In Maine my mind is undivided. The only competition it has comes from puzzles and card games. We have been here two weeks and the television has been dark. I got a notice from the worried algorithms at Apple telling me that my screen time last week fell 51%. That, on top of a 35% drop the week before.

One more thing, this morning I teed it up for the first time in what seems like months. Got the 6:30 tee time at Rockland Golf Club. I rented a set of clubs and bought some golf balls and a bag of tees. On the first hole I lost two of them while carding an 8. Wasn’t sure that the 6 balls I had purchased would be enough. However, my play did improve and I played the remaining 17 holes with the same ball, shooting a respectable 91. 

My only birdie attempt came on the par 3 10th hole when I hit a 5 iron 176 yards to here and then left the putt on the edge of the cup. I plan on playing twice more and will keep you posted on my scores. Hopefully they improve, but even if they don’t, walking five miles and playing a round of golf in two and a half hours is its own reward!

A Special Guest

It has been a crazy couple of days. It all started on Saturday when I received the following text from one of Pam’s dearest friends, Becky Baldwin:

Okay, hear me out……what is your HONEST opinion for me to fly up for Pam’s bday? I have tons of miles that I could use to come in Monday afternoon/evening and leave Wednesday afternoon. I’d fly into the smaller airport in Rockland as it’s only 10 miles away. Do you think I’m crazy?

My answer began, “Well, of course I think you’re crazy.” Two days later I tell Pam that we are going out for lunch to this new restaurant that I had found in Rockland. When we arrive at the Rockland airport she is confused but still clueless. “Apparently the airport cafe serves amazing haddock chowder,” I lied. A couple minutes later, this happened:

These two go back over 30 years. They were in the same Sunday School class together at Grove. They became mothers around the same time. Although their lives went in different directions over the years, the friendship endured. And yes, it is not your imagination…they very much look like sisters. But the resemblance isn’t limited to their physical appearance. Their friends tend to use the same adjectives to describe them—kind, generous, loving, loyal etc…

So, when Becky arrived, it was the hottest day we’ve had so far. The skies were overcast, the wind was blowing like a hurricane, a cloud of haze has settled in over Camden. Pam was so disappointed that she wouldn't get to show off her happy place when it was looking its best. Then, on Monday night, an incredible rainstorm blew through overnight. yesterday dawned bright and clear…and it was on!

Turning the two of them loose on the streets of Camden, Maine was like a revitalization plan for the local economy.

No store was safe…

Mount Battie has never looked so beautiful.

Gazing out across the Penobscot Bay at Vinalhaven, I heard Becky say, “Wait…is that a Kate Spade store?” Pam calmly replied, “Becky, that’s a lobster buoy, settle down!!”

This morning we will head out to Owl’s Head lighthouse, which is a mere five minute drive from the airport, then put her on a plane back to Virginia. It has been a great couple of days. Pam got to celebrate her 60th birthday with one of her all-time buddies. I got to enjoy watching the two of them catch up. Having the privilege of introducing our friends to Maine is one of the greatest joys of our lives. Thanks Beck, for given us that chance.

Time For Church

Sunday’s are special up here. When we are at home we go to church. Here we feel as if we are already in church. Living on a lake surrounded by the created world infuses life with a level of transcendence that’s missing in the everyday existence of most people. Its difficult to discover the spiritual when you’re drowning in the struggles of the here and now. But up here its hard to avoid the spiritual implications of such natural beauty. Hearing the loons call across the lake after dark stirs something in the heart. Spying an eagle atop his nest, then gazing at his majestic flight overhead speaks to your inmost spirit in ways both mysterious and profound. For me, I find in these moments the suggestion of the divine. For others not spiritually inclined they might just be beautiful birds, but for me they are reminders that everything is fearfully and wonderfully made. Even the fish I pull out of the water shimmers with life and wonder. I look at their perfect lines, the efficiency of their movements and how they fight for life. When I gently place them back in the silky water they dart once again into the deep and I am enchanted.

This morning is once again sunny and still, another in an almost unbroken string of nearly perfect days since we arrived. At some point we will get a rainy day. Maine needs rain, its in the midst of a state-wide drought, the lake as low as I can ever remember. Yesterday afternoon we were invited over to Loon Landing for wine and cheese by the owners of the fabulous property which will be our home for the last four weeks of this vacation. We sat on their lakeside deck just a few feet from the water and talked about what it was like when they found the place 15 years ago. Carolyn got us caught up on the latest lake gossip and Keith gave me some tips about the boat that they are leaving for our use. The thought of being able to finally share this place with our kids for the first time in a couple weeks makes us giddy with expectation. They are going to fall in love with it just as we have. They won’t be able to help themselves.

Dinner in Belfast

Even when Pam and I are in Maine, we have date night. You know how it is, after a long, hard grind of a week filled with endless relaxation, perfect weather and natural beauty, you just need to get away!! For us that means an escape from the peace and quiet of the lake in exchange for a dive into the hectic up-tempo craziness of city life…in Belfast, Maine.

It started with dinner at an Italian restaurant in the heart of downtown called Delvino’s .

We had to call for a reservation and the only one available was for 5:15. We felt old, eating dinner a full four hours before dark. But, eat we did. We started with a bowl of fresh Maine mussels in lemon sauce with steamed tomatoes. Then I had the sausage lasagna and Pam had salmon with mushrooms and spinach ravioli. The meal was sublime.



Then it was time for an after dinner walk through the bustling streets…

Bustling might not be the best modifier. More like “on streets which had the potential for bustling.” Anyway, this is the building which houses the Belfast Chamber of Commerce. Well, of course it does. Walking through Belfast on a Friday evening is to be reminded of what American towns and villages used to look like before the scourge of shopping malls began to proliferate across the fruited plain like so many wild mushrooms after a rain storm. Here, entertainment, eateries and small business are not hauled off outside of town surrounded by acres of asphalt parking lots where the architecture conforms to some master plan dreamed up in a boardroom a thousand miles away designed for aesthetic sameness. Here, everything sits together on elegant streets, the ice-cream and bike shop rubbing shoulders with the board game store and the law office. Down the street there’s the farmer’s co-op and a cannabis dispensary, along with a delightful wine and cheese store with the quite inelegant name…Eat More Cheese. Yes, I think I will. But first we had to stop by the Wild Cow Creamery for a bowl of unique, hand made ice cream. Pam had ginger. I got the Chocolate Toffee Crunch. Then we took our cups a block down the street to the bay and sat on a slab of rock on its edge…

Of course, there were other seating options in this expansive park. We could have sat in lobster trap chairs…

Or this beauty that somebody stole from a Hobbit village…

Speaking of seating, everywhere you walk in downtown Belfast, the city fathers are imploring  you to sit, to take a load off, to take a minute and relax. On practically every corner, in every spare nook and cranny your desire to sit down is beautifully accommodated…

As we strolled through this adorable town we noticed how many dogs there were being walked by their humans. One particular older yellow lab seemed to be not very much interested in his walk, stopping in the middle of the street in protest. Another woman was walking by walking her own dog and we heard her say, “Don’t blame him. Its so hot!” Pam tried her best not to laugh. We had just remarked about how perfect the weather was. No humidity, a delightful 72 degrees and a refreshing breeze coming off the ocean. And this life long Mainer walks by complaining about how hot it was. Absolutely adorable.

If I were President of the Belfast Chamber of Commerce I would come up with a new slogan for the village…

Belfast. Come sit for a while.

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.

Lucy’s Scary Adventure

Lucy had a big day yesterday. She got to accompany Pam while she was on the kayak and the paddle board…

But then everything when to heck in a hand basket. Wait…let me let Lucy describe what happened:

“Was having great day. Lots of swimming, loads of smells, ate at least a dozen flies. But then loud horrible noises from across lake. Sound like fireworks, but it not dark and no lights in sky. This just hekkin’ loud noises from invisible place. Of course, I tuck tail and start shaking like any sensible dogger would, but my humans act like it totally normal for loud booms to be blasting in ears. They tell me everything be alright but I not believe them. Sound like invasion of cats with guns. I hear Dad say it skeet-shooting like that suppose to make me feel better. Fluffing ridicurus. After I pace around and whine Mom finally put on thunder shirt, and even though she cooking dinner in cramped kitchen, I not leave her side. If she have to step over me, small price to pay to keep me safe from skeet-shoot cats.”

When I woke up this morning Lucy was nowhere to be found in our bedroom, either on the bed or the floor…a first. I found her dead to the world on the futon Pam had set up for her to sleep on but she had ignored up to this point, preferring our small bed instead. Maybe she was mad at us for not taking the whole skeet-shooter thing seriously enough, who knows?

This morning its raining, not too hard and it looks like its already clearing up. Low 70’s today. Might be time to break out a puzzle. Caught a couple more nice bass, two off the dock and the other on my first kayak trip of the week. The back held up quite well.