Bit o’ Honey ~ the little things that please

The little things that please . . .

Georgetown, Maine

with one comment

 

“Pull down thy vainty, it is not man                                                                                                                  Made courage, or made order, or made grace,                                                                                                   Pull down thy vanity, I say pull down,                                                                                                                  Learn of the green world what can be thy place. . .”       Ezra Pound

 

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For seven years I’ve lived between Portland and Peaks Island, but my exploration of coastal Maine has been sadly limited.  While I consider myself a resident of Portland I don’t always feel like a resident of the state of Maine, simply because of my ignorance of the region.  Until now.  Over the past month I’ve been fortunate enough to spend weekend in Georgetown, Maine, a small coastal community just north of Bath. This area is unique in its mix of woodland, marsh and rocky coast.   Unlike summer, this time of year the penninsula where my friend P. lives is quiet, inhabited by just a few dozen residents. 

 

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Friends back home in Mississippi ask me how I can live in such an extreme climate.  But extremes in the seasons are precisely what I love.  Late fall is particularly poignant.  By mid-November trees reveal dark skeletal branches, opening views to water and hillsides, and exposing a raw beauty.   The green foliage of summer gives way to an abundance of gray and bronze. 

 

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The back view from P’s house overlooking the Atlantic.  

 

Walks to the nearby beaches are solitary and peaceful, unless of course P’s two boys come along.  Then it’s an adventure of scrambling up rocks and through thick brush, where the ground is spongey from so much moss.   A few weeks ago I went out on a frigid night with P’s boys, who are seven and eleven.  The darkness was absolute.  So unlike nighttime in Portland, where light spills from shops and street lamps making it impossible to see anything more than the brightest few stars, we stumbled in the dark along the road.  The Milky Way was distinct overhead, its smudged glow brighter than I’d seen in years.  We made our way to a nearby beach and laid on our backs in the firm sand where the tide had just slipped out, admiring the spectacle above us.

  

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An empty beach . . . heaven.

 

 

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The boys beat us to the far end of the rocks.

 

Just an hour away from Portland, places like Georgetown remind me why I chose to live in the northernmost state in the country, on the far side of the continent.  Yes, winters can be brutal.  But out here I’m relieved of the need to accomplish anything at all, so consumed by this raw, serene beauty.  Even better, I fall asleep in utter darkness and wake to the sunrise over the ocean.   As these visits become more frequent, the bends in the road more familiar, the darkness more essential, I become less a stranger to this place.  And it in turn feels more like home.

 

 

 

 


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Written by Janie

November 14, 2008 at 7:26 pm

One Response

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  1. Giving thanks for all…. I’m not quite sure if there is a bit of sarcasm in this poem or if it is truly a sharing of how it is possible to be thankful for all….

    It is great to visit your “Bit o’Honey” again and read of how you are living and to see a few new photos to see through your eyes how we can live “without the news”!

    Blessings,
    Dan

    Dan Robinson

    February 13, 2009 at 11:50 am


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