Unplugged in Maine
Our good friend Ed invited us up to his incredible antique home in Stockton Springs, Maine for the weekend. The house was built in 1800 and perches over Stockton Harbor, surrounded by apple trees, fields, wild blueberries, and strawberries in the summer. There is no television and there is no wifi. Which is just what we wanted.
Having rested up from Friday's long drive, we spent most of Saturday stretched out in lawn chairs, enjoying cocktails, and doing absolutely nothing. The sky was cerulean blue. The weather was unseasonable warm. Basically perfect.
Then in the afternoon, Ed took us on a tour around the property.
It was a little past peak Fall but the colors were still stunning against the clear sky and the deep blue of the harbor.
Maine's beaches are rocky and covered in seaweed. It's not so much sand as it is a swath of very fine pebbles. Still, it was beautiful and serene.
Mike remembered to bring an empty bottle so we could collect the sand for our beach sand jar.
To the left you can see a clear path where railroad tracks once ran centuries ago. It's all gone now and nature is reclaiming the land. As it should.
And here's some weird mushrooms I have yet to identify.
I think these are called Alcohol Inky according to Mike's field guide.
After a long hike across the beach, up through the woods, and a tick check, we headed into town proper for lunch at Libby's Cafe. The Philly cheese steak is quite good (for Maine).
After lunch we poked around in the many weird and wonderful antique shops.
I call this one "Tetanus Alley."
Then on the drive back, we paused at Mount Recluse Cemetery to visit a few former residents. The graveyard is filled with sailors and sea captains, many of which have been lost at sea. The poetry and art that were created in their memory is quite stunning.
John Berry
Lost at sea
January 1834, Aged 25 years, 6 months
Not in the church yard shall he sleep,
Amid the silent gloom;
His home was on the mighty deep,
And there shall be his tomb.
I believe these two were once upon a time, former occupants of Ed's home. We thanked them for such a lovely stay.
After a relaxing day, we headed back to watch the sunset over the harbor. Mike prepared a rustic feast, I poured the wine, and Ed led us through a long evening of acoustic guitar songs. No one checked their social media and no television interrupted the evening. It was blissful contentment, if only for a little while before we headed back into reality.
