This year, another family member moved to Maine. Yep, Maine. Bar Harbor, to be exact. A very beautiful state, I will not lie. However, as my Maine brother-in-law said recently, it is not a place where most family and friends are passing through on the way to somewhere else, like the Grand Tetons or San Francisco. It’s a destination state, a hinterland at the edge of this great nation of ours. And for urban dwellers like us, it is one of the last places to hear absolute silence at night, to see what unfiltered (ehem, smogless) sunlight looks like, to smell air that is sweet. So, we went in July to remind ourselves of what nature really looks, sounds and smells like (minus the clog of tourist) and for the memories, Em’s future family vocabulary.
PS – I excluded the anxiety over Lyme ticks and the fact that we almost never see Mount Katahdin. For a long time, we believed the latter was a myth. The former is an unfortunate reality; both of Hubby’s parents contracted the disease this year. And, I’ll avoid mentioning still not seeing a moose, because, frankly, an encounter with them is best enjoyed from the warm glow of your flat screen television.