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.

God I Love This Place

It’s been a windy few days here, making kayak fishing trips impossible for someone with a tender back. But this morning has dawned clear and calm, not a ripple to be seen on the surface of the lake. So in a while I will venture out.

Yesterday found us in Camden for breakfast at The Deli. Blueberry pancakes with crisp bacon and coffee. But the best part about The Deli is the view…

That’s the Megunticook River flowing under the place, then crashing down a waterfall into the Penobscot Bay and the Atlantic Ocean. We have sat at this table for over ten years, thankful for our great good fortune.

Lucy is living her absolute best life. This dog owns the place…

Last night, a storm came through from the southern end of the lake. It didn’t rain much but the wind blew harder than it had all day. The biggest result from the storm was the stirred up sky it left in its wake. The sunset looked like the cover of a Gothic novel…

The final slice of the day was the sort of thing its hard to turn away from…

God, I love this place.

Silver Linings

The back is on the mend. I wanted badly to get in the kayak and head out but that would have been dumb…and Pam would have been furious with me if I did. Instead, I stayed around the dock with Lucy while she went out. However, in Maine you don’t really need to leave the dock to catch fish…

It must be said that Miss Lucy is in mid-season form already…

It has taken Pam a bit longer to hit her stride. It might have something to do with the fact that she has been working like a beast since my back went out, picking up my slack. But this was a good sign…

That’s her out there with her kayak tied to the swim float reading a book. 

So, last night something crazy happened. We were both busy cooking dinner, Pam in the kitchen, me out on the grill. It was one of our favorite camp meals, chicken kabobs with peanut sauce. We sat down at the table and slathered the sauce on everything, then said the blessing, thanking God for the privilege of being in such a place for six weeks. Then we both shoveled the first delectable bite into our mouths only to be shocked by a horrible discovery. I looked at her. She looked at me, mouths closed, our faces contorted in painful grimaces. Apparently, that container of sugar from which Pam had taken a third of a cup to mix with the peanut sauce was…SALT. In 38 years of marriage, this was a first. The dinner that had smelled so delicious while it was cooking was now ruined. Then Pam—in the first sign that she is rounding into ideal Maine shape—says to me, “Well, I guess this means we have no choice but to go get ice cream.”

A valuable lesson was learned which is that the secret to guilt-free ice cream consumption is destroying dinner. Silver linings.

This morning, for the first time since we arrived on Saturday, the lake is still…

First Day Complications

At 5:22 am on this Sunday morning I am cautiously optimistic. 

Yesterday around noon we arrived at the lake greeted by fabulous blue skies and sunshine. The breeze coming off the water made us feel a chill as we got out of the car. The thermometer said it was 74, but with no humidity and that fresh lake breeze it felt colder. We introduced Lucy to the place and she was ecstatic. Then we decided to eat our lunch before unpacking the car. We had stopped at the always dependable Fraternity General Store and picked up some sandwiches. Before lunch I took a couple pictures.

Then we sat about unloading the car. Ten minutes in to this enterprise, I reached into the back of the car for something and felt a knifing pain in my back. I froze in place and waited. Then a spasm…then another. A few minutes later I was laying on the hardwood floor with my knees pulled to my chest trying to make it stop.

There is never a good time to throw out your back. But some times are far worse than others. This was one of the those times. Lucky for me I am married to a calm cool and collected women who always seems to know exactly what to do in situations like this. As I lay on the floor fearing the worse she was busy unloading the car by herself all the while devising a plan. She presents me with a post-it note with the address and phone number of a Walgreen’s in Belfast, Maine and the phone number of the Short Pump Patient First with these instructions: “Call them and explain the situation and ask them to call in a muscle relaxer prescription.” Brilliant.

I call and am connected to a sympathetic and cheerful nurse who pulls up my extensive record of back pain related visits. “Ahhh,” she says knowingly, “You seem to have a history of this sort of thing. I see a visit in 2017, 2018, and two visits in 2020, all for muscle spasms,” as if I was about to win some repeat customer award or something. Then a worrisome sigh and the words you don’t want to here when you’re laying on the floor fighting off back spasm’s  on day one of your six week vacation, “Unfortunately…”

Because it had been over a year since I had been treated for back issues, they would not be able to call me in a prescription. The fact that I had been treated for back spasms at that particular location more times than Britney Spears has been in rehab made no difference to what was apparently a mandate from corporate. We were then forced to launch Plan B.

Pam drove into Belfast to make our first grocery run with strict instructions that I was to stay in bed and “do nothing until I get back.” Luckily, I am ideally suited for such a task. Lucy and I made ourselves as comfortable as possible and waited for Super Woman’s return. When she arrived back at the house, she brought with her an ice pack thing that you can strap unto your back via a Velcro belt, along with a heating pad with a built in massager. Then she handed me a cold Baxter Stowaway IPA and deadpanned, “Here’s your muscle relaxer.” The woman is gold.

So this morning I sit here in my rocking chair drinking my coffee, feeling the warmth and vibrations of the Relax-o-Matic 2000 Deluxe model 2, with the Mister Freeze Relief Belt warming up in the bullpen. So far, no spasms and except for a a little tightness, I seem on the mend.

Today is a new day.