A former camp for boys in central Maine, now containing privately owned cabins–gussied up, of course–facing Lovejoy Pond (looked like a lake to me) provided a serenely
peaceful and pleasant vacation spot for three days.
My wife Liz’s friend of 47 years, an educational consultant in St.Louis, MO,was our gracious host. Conversation was easy and comfortable.
At first I was concerned about being bored. That feeling quickly vanished, with side trips to a famous ramshackle restaurant known for its unparalleled lobster rolls, to the Farnsworth Museum with its incredible Wyeth paintings in Rockland and to the Colby College museum in Waterville, with its impressive display of American art.
I’m afraid I can make no connection to Talbot County. I ate lobster instead of crabs. I marveled at rocky beaches and lovely lakes, instead of well-traveled rivers, sandy beaches and the incomparable Chesapeake Bay.
And, by the way, we ran into Easton friends who recommended the Colby museum. Word of mouth is effective.
And I almost forgot to mention Camp Menatoma’s loons, which sound nothing
nothing like our noisey, honking Canada geese.
Life is good and relaxed. Reading, talking, eating, walking and playing Scrabble are major activities. Evenings are cool. Sleep is easy.
We left a tranquil setting for tourist-infested Kennebunk Beach, which typifies Maine’s rocky coastline. As I learned from Farnsworth Museum, Maine’s rugged coastline and fishing industry, particularly its lobster harvest, have inspired artists and authors to capture the rareness of Maine. Not unlike the literary and artistic lore of our own Chesapeake Bay and its enticing tributaries.
I mentioned the infestation of tourists. I too am one of those wide-eyed enthusiasts trying to enjoy and learn. Maine is a wonderful place to visit, savor its seafood and marvel at its landscape. I can understand why friends from home find themselves drawn to Maine, especially to escape hot and humid weather so common to Maryland.
Lingering becomes a favorite pastime in a snippet of life unburdened by deadlines. Reading becomes the top priority. Catching the sun in moderation becomes another passive activity. Doing nothing seems worthwhile, with the Atlantic Ocean feet away.
New England accents are distinctive, a bit jarring at first but gradually accommodating. I now wonder what visitors think when they visit the Eastern Shore and hear native dialects. Accents define the place–and a different experience.
It’s always nice to go home and taste familiarity. Respite is invaluable, away from daily concerns and chores. And, the lobsters remind you of Maine’s culinary goodness.
Steamed crabs will soften my acclimation to Maryland’s Eastern Shore.
Columnist Howard Freedlander retired in 2011 as Deputy State Treasurer of the State of Maryland. Previously, he was the executive officer of the Maryland National Guard. He also served as community editor for Chesapeake Publishing, lastly at the Queen Anne’s Record-Observer. In retirement, Howard serves on the boards of several non-profits on the Eastern Shore, Annapolis and Philadelphia.
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