It’s not a selfie.
When I’m in Maine, I wake up early.
No, not kind of early.
I’m talking sometimes 4:20 a.m. early.
The Inn* faces east…the sun wakes up – and gets up – in the east… and, well, it’s a bit of a mix of what a young Elsa squeals in Frozen: “The sky’s awake, so I’m awake!”… but also? It’s a little like being kidnapped by a sadistic lunatic who is practicing his sleep-deprivation torture using a really, really large spotlight. From, you know, 92.96 million miles away (taking approximately 8 minutes for it to reach my eyes based on light speed… but you don’t really need to know that for this post).
Mostly it’s soothing.
I’ve been getting up and, depending on what the tide is deciding to do with his day, I have anywhere from an hour to three before I see the first lobster boat ease into the coves around me… teasing a smile from me, even after 12 seasons of experiencing this.
But before that.
Before the ‘bub bub bub splash’ of the lobstermen and women coming in to do their work, or the first car I hear heading down the road or crossing the bridge on or off the island… every once in a while, In the glowing hour before the sun warms our orb, a lone kayaker will slide silently by.
And each time, my inner self can put myself in his place… see what she sees… feel the smooth forward motion of the boat, hear the quiet lapping of the water as I paddle, experience the changing of air as the sun wakes up and begins to warm it up.
I love to kayak.
Never did it as a kid, I came to it later in life. And it is truly an awesome way to spend time, to get a whole new perspective on the world.
But I’ve never gone alone.
I think it’s a water rule thing… you know, ‘never swim alone’, ‘no diving in shallow water’, ‘don’t go into the water within an hour of eating’… which suspiciously then became a half hour … then ten minutes, then right about the time you were bugging the frack out of your parents and they probably didn’t care if you got that sure-to-kill you cramp … (why, how did you grow up?)
I think I really want to do it.
I think I need to.
Just head out with my camera at sunrise, maybe sunset… and see what I see.
See what I feel.
This year I’m gonna do it.
Screw the fear of being run over by an early-rising speedboat maniac or jet ski-er or superfast pscho canoe paddler.
Because I’m bold.
Because I will bring my cell phone.
And a really great life jacket.
And… maybe… Blaze.
Thanks for readin’.
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*Just a reminder that “The Inn” was once really an inn, well-known for its lobster bakes and relaxing spot by the water. But this was back in the early 1900s. It’s been a home since about 1918/1920 as far as our research tells us. So today, if I woke up to strangers in their bathrobes hanging out in my kitchen and waiting for breakfast, I might be a little uncomfortable…. or a lot.