Traveling more than 350 miles back and forth between two homes during this transition period has become tiresome, but I am the type of person who doesn’t like to leave things unfinished and so I have stayed to attend to those items. This last weekend however, seemed to be an ideal time to make the trip up to the new home for a few days, especially with friends and family joining us for the holiday weekend. It would be a full house.
The weekend was grand as we helped our friends explore the area. Downtown was bustling with a windjammer festival at the harbor; the tall sailing ships extending an invitation to cruise the waters, while on dry land crowds of visitors wandered through the shops dotting the main street. The pleasant weather encouraged everyone to enjoy the holiday. Hiking, exploring and spending time by the lake were the activities of the weekend. Even places we had experienced in solitary contemplation in the past, were now occupied. Everyone was trying to squeeze the last bit of summer into these final days of August.
But the weekend was soon over and the line of cars heading south on route 1 gave evidence that the vacation season had come to an end. I lingered a few more days in the quiet of an empty house and an empty town, for it seems that visitors take it literally that Maine is vacation land as everyone flees the state at the same time on Labor Day. After expending their energy into one last celebration of summer, people were now in a rush to return to a hectic pace of life.
The day after this mass exodus the area was shrouded in fog; assuring that we all knew that summer was truly coming to an end. I sat by the harbor trying to make out the boats, abandoned ships barely visible through the thick blanket that had descended upon us. I was alone. Except for the ducks huddled on the exposed rocks of the harbor, there were no other visitors venturing upon this ghostly scene, for they had all fled to warmer climates.
Yet I found a beauty in all this. The thick blanket around the harbor and the mountain tops invited visions of a quieter, more contemplative season to come. Later in the day, I sat by the lake reflecting on where we had been and what new opportunities lay ahead. A new season and new adventures would soon begin.