Friday, July 1, 2011

Maine: Part One

It turns out, you can go home again.  Dan and I recently stayed with my brother and his wife in the house where I lived during my teenage years.  While there we visited some of my old haunts.    As you will see from the photos of these “haunts” below, my idea of a good time was solitude.  (How did I end up a city girl?)
My parent’s house sits on a large plot of land that is mostly thickly wooded.  
Below is an opening in the woods that was my private play-land.  It is carpeted by soft, spongy moss, which coupled with the fog that was often present,  gave this spot a mysterious and special feel.   I would spend hours there doing everything from reading to teaching myself ballet.  Well, attempting to teach myself ballet.
This was my favorite spot in the little oasis.  I would lean my back against the birch tree, prop my feet up on the rock and read, write in my journal, stare off into space, contemplate the future, and do other 15-year old girl things.

A short bike-ride down the hill from the house is Gin Cove: another spot that I truly felt was my own. 
As a teenager, I rode my bike to this cove almost every single day and in the span of about 4 years, I can only remember seeing other people on the beach 4 or 5 times. 
After living in LA alongside a gazillion people for over 6 years, I am utterly amazed that I had this place all to myself so consistently for so long.  I suppose it is because the property is privately owned (by whom, I still have no idea) and the tiny, muddy road that leads to the cove is very well hidden.
Looking for good skipping rocks …

And then skipping those rocks.  Skippin’ ‘em good.  When I’m in Maine, I spend about 80% of my time skipping rocks.
Goodbye, Gin Cove.  Have one last poorly attempted ballet-reminiscent pose.  Until next time …

(The dots in the water are lobster trap bouys.)

Most people are surprised to learn this because I am *fairly* normal, but I was homeschooled.  While my Dad was working as a net-mender for a salmon farm in Eastport, I would go into work with him and study in the company’s break room.

I would rush through my subjects, so I could go across the street to the library.  Yep.  You heard me.  The library.  SUCH a trouble-maker!

I loved hiding in the stacks reading a book on the floor.
Dan and I stopped in during our visit to take advantage of the free wifi.  Wifi!  Amazing.  Back in the day they didn’t have computers.
By the way, if you're noticing the color and lighting inconsistencies in these photos, allow me explain by quoting an old saying in New England: "If you don't like the weather, wait a minute."

More of Maine tomorrow!


  1. Beautiful Cindy. I really love the pictures and the glimpse into your childhood. The picture of the library isle is my favorite. It's funny how places that could seem insignificant to one person can hold so many memories for another. I have places like that too. I'm so glad you got to visit yours.

  2. Leanne, thanks so much for commenting! I have REEEALLLY got to get back to this! It's just been so crazy lately. (For yo too, huh?.)

  3. Life has a way of getting crazy doesn't it? If only we could find the balance between rock skipping and total world domination. ;) Hope you are well... and hope you are singing. <3 hi to Dan too...

  4. OMG it looks exactly like Miss Rumphius! Beautiful places, Cindy.

  5. I would seriously frame that pic of the three shelves covered in books. love.