There are so many firsts this year, now that Self Proclaimed Perfect Boy, Gabe has headed off to college.
Some I anticipated, but others – like my first spring on Southport Island – have come as a surprise.
I’ve been up here in springtime, over the years, but only for day trips – leaving early in the morning to meet someone working on the house or gardens, and taking off right after the meeting to be home for kids or a concert or soccer or a track meet or or or…
I became an ace at leaving home at 7 a.m., getting up here by 10, finishing my meeting or meetings no later than 11:30, and heading back home for 2:30/3:00. I am wicked good at timing the pre-season line at Reds Eats and managing to eat a lobster roll whilst driving.
Reds crams more than a whole lobster’s worth of meat in every single roll. They serve it with butter on the side. No frills.
Best. Lobster Roll. Ever. Period.
And, again, not easy to eat while driving. I ought to tape a sign to my window when I leave Reds with a lobster roll: Professional Lobster Roll Eater. Do not attempt.
We had projects going on – off and on – at The Inn for more than a decade, so I did that day trip gig a lot. And it wasn’t until this fall, just after Gabe left, that we let it sink in. We could be in Maine pretty much whenever we felt like it!
And so we were here. Kind of a lot!
And we continued to be here much more in winter too, and now – just as with everyplace else – our island is in the midst of the yawns and stretches of Spring’s awakening.
I came up a day early this time, for a meeting with the landscaping crew tomorrow morning. JoHn and the dogs will come up tomorrow. Granny might too, I don’t know. She’s doing great and comes sometimes, stays home others.
When I got here today, I dropped some things off and headed right back out. The sun was low in the sky and I have a brandy new camera lens!
I headed down to Cosy (not a spelling error) Harbor to grab the pic above. The two boats in the water will be joined, in just a few weeks, by so many more that those navigating their way to the pier to tie up will require some pretty decent boatmanship. The harbor becomes an obstacle course for the junior sailing program too (true!), and the young sailers tacking and jibbing around the moored boats are pretty impressive to watch.
And I had to look up ‘tacking’ and ‘jibbing’ to write that.
I’m now a professional sailor.
After visiting Cosy Harbor, I headed down to the tip of the island – a place called Cape Newagen, or just ‘Newagen’ (pronounced ‘new wagon’). A very cool place. You can see Cuckolds Light from there.
No I am not making that up. It is really called Cuckolds Light.
It’s a light house!
The cuckolds part is probably because there are shoals out there that can muck things up for boaters if they are not careful. Kind of like ‘cuckolding’ mucks things up.
But this Cuckolds requires far less time in therapy and/or court.
Okay, it’s way off in the distance but…
Cuckolds Light is great, but my favorite reason to head down to the Town Landing at Newagen is…
Can you see the red house? Sort of in the upper middle, kind of left?
That belonged to Margaret Hamilton.
The Wicked Witch of the West herself! Though I am told she was far from wicked. Her son still owns it!
It is so strange to see just a few lobster buoys in the water here. Soon they’ll be a bazillion of ’em (‘bazillion’ being an official lobstering measurement… uh…. as of right now).
On my way back home, I stopped again at Cosy Harbor – which is one of my fave harbors of all time. Tiny but awesome.
It was low tide and I made my way carefully down the steep dock to the float below. A few lonely lobster traps were there – again, to be joined by a bazillion more soon – and the clouds had softened just a bit as the sun sank lower.
The whole ‘being here as the island wakes up’ thing is so strange. Yes, I know when here is ‘home’, we will join lots of – well, 600-ish – people who also call Southport home all year ’round. And I wonder if they feel the same way I do.
So many people descend on this beautiful area of the world in summertime, that it feels a bit like cheating to be able to enjoy it now, in this quiet time. I didn’t see – I actually didn’t see a single person while I ambled around, taking these pictures. Not one. It was amazing.
I can’t imagine ever taking this for granted.
Thanks for readin’.
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