Lighthouses and Lobsters

 

Lighthouses and Lobsters

Today’s devotional was led by Sam before we left the lodge we had stayed in for the past three days.  There was a lot of driving today, much of it through mist, fog, and rain.  After several short stops for some scenic pictures, coffee, bathroom breaks, and a quick lunch at whatever fast food or grocery store we could walk to, we stopped at Fort Williams light house for an hour or two.  Superb scenery was everywhere with the skies doing their best to clear and the water breaking in the rocks along the shoreline.  Flowers bursting with color lined the fence placed to keep hikers from wandering too close to the shore and walking paths crisscrossed green areas high above the beach.  Walking felt great after sitting on the bus and I took full advantage of the time allotted.  I took way more pictures than needed but it was irresistible, that picture perfect lighthouse setting high up on the rocks.

I came upon a man who looked like he had stepped out of a seascape painting, his grizzled face peeking out behind a full beard and mustache, his smile showing teeth just a tad worse for wear.  He was Scottish, he told me with a brogue that testified to the truth of his claim. He was selling prints of his original oils and I bought two of them, hoping to hang them in our Florida house someday, assuming I can manage to convince Paul that we need a house in the sunshine state.

I noticed, on my walk above the shoreline, the sickening putrid smell of death and saw a sea lion, its bloated body washed up on the rocks below me.  In stark contrast to the beauty all around it was a reminder of the brutality that real life can dish out.

Back on the bus we passed through Kennebunkport where summer homes for the rich and famous line the waterfront in this beautiful oceanside town. We rode slowly past the Bush family’s residence and I was surprised at how unimpressive it is. I had imagined it would be hidden, up a long driveway with lush greenery and total privacy, at least from the land side.  Instead, it was wide open to view.  The winding lane was long but anyone could clearly see the house from land or sea.  I suppose the black Suburban parked by the gatehouse would be a deterent for anyone with evil intent but still it seemed like a pretty exposed location to me.

We checked into our hotel, a very nice place within feet of the Atlantic Ocean, a wall protecting the parking lot from the surf at high tide.  Martha told us that would be at about 11:30 pm and I looked out the windows of our room around then to see if she was right.  She was.  The skies were gray again but the rain was holding off so walking along the rocky beach was possible and several from our group faced the wind and took advantage.  I opted for a cup of hot coffee at the top of the wall.

We boarded the bus and headed out for supper, stopping along the way to see the Nubbles Lighthouse at Cape Neddick.  We drove through narrow streets in a residential neighborhood (Laverne, our amazing bus driver, negotiated places I thought impossible,) and reaching the water’s edge we piled out to take advantage of more beautiful photo ops. The unusual thing about this lighthouse was its proximity to suburbia, many of the houses huge and not built for the likes of us.  The lighthouse and light keeper’s cottage were on a small plot of land separated from us by a narrow strip of water, maybe thirty yards or so.  Still in use today, I think I heard someone say the light keeper is a woman who lives there with her husband. That could be totally false but it makes for an interesting story anyway.

Our next stop was at Perkins Cove, a quaint little village with shops lining the streets and a pedestrian drawbridge crossing the waterway that ran through town.  More brilliant flowers, more eateries, more scenic views of sailboats and seagulls and shorelines.  I wonder if the people that live here still notice how lovely it is.

Our supper was one we’d been looking forward to since we left home.  Well some of us, anyway.  Lobster at Jonathan’s Restaurant with all the fixin’s.  And it did not disappoint! The dining room was beautiful with French doors lining one wall, outside of which were more of the brilliantly colored flowers that seem to be thriving everywhere we’ve been in the New England states.

After stuffing ourselves shamelessly we left the restaurant and trudged to the bus in the rain that was steadily coming down.  Martha told us on the way back to our hotel that the whale watching cruise scheduled for tomorrow is a no-go, cancelled by the company that runs the tours.  It seems hurricane Sam is whipping up winds in the 100 mph range out there in the ocean, so alternate plans will have to be made.  It’s all good though; no one is in the mood to risk their life to see a whale.