Skipping Stones

Can you imagine?  Look at this massive pile of stones that had washed up on the shore of Little Cranberry Island (Islesford) off the coast of Bar Harbor, Maine.

It may be hard to get a perspective, but this scene does not go "out" but "up."  The stones at the bottom of the picture are at my feet and the pile rises straight up - the ocean is on the other side. 

I had to ask our friend, Soos, to stop the car so that I could photograph this.  And while I framed the picture, I couldn't help but think of all the artists that would love to get their hands on this natural bounty.

Like to skip stones?  You would have a field day...

Maine Land

Isn't this something? It is as if the fishermen of Bar Harbor knew I was coming and ordered brand new lobster buoys!
I took this photo last September on one of my favorite days. I was travelling with my dear friend, Angie, and we had just arrived by boat to spend the day visiting and exploring Little Cranberry Island.
Can you see the boat with the blue canopy in the distance? It is called "Delight" (I can't make this stuff up! See my post about it here) and was our ride home that evening.
I have been thinking a lot about Maine and life on that little island. It was quiet and friendly and beautiful. On our last day, when we were driven back to the docks to leave, a local woman (and now my friend!) asked me, "How can you leave, now that you've been here?" And I have thought about that statement many times since.
I was so happy for her in that moment and wished that everyone could love where they lived even half as much.

Little Cranberry Island

(This photo is of our arrival at the Islesford Dock.)

One of our adventures was to take the Mail Boat out to Little Cranberry Island. Since I am not particularly "sea worthy," I was really worried about being motion sick on the rough ocean waters.

Can you believe it? The water was like glass the whole way. It was such a beautiful ride and I loved every second of it. The Mail Boat is just that - the Captain, a few passengers and the day's bin of mail. It was really neat to be a part of their daily routine. At one point I called over the wind to the Captain, "Where's Martha Stewart's house?" and he pointed out the long narrow roofline within the trees on the opposite shore.

We stayed on the island a few hours after the last mail boat run, so we hired a water taxi (the boat was named "Delight!") to take us back to northeast harbor. We ripped through the dark open waters on a gorgeous starry night - it is an evening I will never forget.

I've enlarged a portion of the main picture so that you can see the "Delight" tied up at the dock.