We saw the sun rise over the Atlantic from the 1,500-foot
summit of Cadillac Mountain. It was one of the most peaceful and serene things
I have ever witnessed.
I surgically opened a full lobster requiring a slew of wet
naps and specialized tools used to extract then savor its sweet meat.
We spent hours reading on a blanket by the harbor watching
sail boats, whale watches, and sea kayakers roll in.
We’ve been weaving in and out of cute little shops and
artist stands with fun things to look at, touch and awe at. Even Sammy did some
shopping with Craig in Patagonia and Bark Harbor.
I nearly took a nap in my fluffy stack of wild Maine
blueberry pancakes I was so deliriously indulged.
We toured and tasted the creations of two local microbreweries
getting just a little tipsy on True Blue blueberry beer and an IPA that tasted
like biting directly into a hop-soaked grapefruit. We followed that up with
some magnificently moist BBQ from the smoking pit on site.
We’ve hiked through just a taste of Acadia National Park’s
beauty so far, Sam sniffing wildly at each evergreen, jumping in and out of
lake, pond and ocean water, tongue hanging heavy in happiness from her canine
smile, accepting pets from every kid that wants to say hello to her (and there
are many).
I ate a waffle cone full of so much coconut and Irish
mudslide ice cream that my belt literally
busted open as my belly grew to happy Buddha size. Still tapering off those steroids ... Prednisone makes me a swollen fatty.
I’m writing this from a couch in an open-air café in
downtown Bar Harbor – iced Oregon Chai latté in hand. Songs from Rent and Les Mis have come over the speakers in the “Opera House Listening
Room” and the sun is peeking in just enough from the cascading awnings above
me.
Tonight we go out with a lobster fisherman to learn about the
trade and maybe see some seals honking at each other.
And, it’s only day 4.
We’re sun kissed, sore muscled and schedule-free. This is
summer vacation.
