Rolling down Route 32 in Mid-Coast Maine, Hannah and I notice both the wealth evident in the seasonal coastal homes in New Harbor as well as the subsistence living that also remains a part of this rural coastal peninsula.
Going from the sunshine five miles away at the La Verna Preserve, (click here for that blog), we are engulfed in fog as we approach the Pemaquid Point Lighthouse. After shorts at La Verna, I slip on sweatpants, sweatshirt, and light jacket to ward against the foggy chill.
Did you know that the Pemaquid Point Lighthouse is on the Maine quarter. (All 50 states have their own quarter.) I think of it as one of the three iconic lighthouses in the state of Maine (Portland Head and Nubble Light in our York are the other two).
It seems perfect that we are in the fog at a Maine lighthouse. Such beacons earn their keep in such weather. You see what I did! Okay, might be a little obtuse. But the primary worker here was a lighthouse keeper.
As it is Monday, November 9, 2020, we are still in celebratory mood as we engage a mother with her grown daughter who have come from Florida for a Maine lighthouse travel tour.
Learning that mom is originally from Ohio, I have the opportunity to ask if they know of Wooster, Ohio.
Thinking so, she wonders how two Mainers ended up at the College of Wooster. As a Jersey boy who picked a college entirely based on the possibility that he might make the varsity tennis team and who eventually escaped by transferring to Arizona State University for his senior year, I joke it was a series of bad breaks how I ended up in the Buckeye State, except for the New Yorker I met there – as I point to Hannah. Thar’s gold in them thar fields of Ohio!
Then, the conversation takes an unfortunate detour as we learn that the women don’t believe the pandemic is real. (I choke back speaking up about the 240K that have died in the United State to date). Their evidence? A nurse said it’s odd that she has seen no flu patients this fall, implying that the authorities are not telling us everything.
This left turn has no good endgame. We extract ourselves gently as we are no mood to debate or have their metaphorical rain douse our celebration.
Though a small park, the Lighthouse envrions allow us to walk down to the rocks on this low tide early afternoon. We turn inland to views to the lighthouse cloaked in fog.
A short walk on the Pemaquid Loop Road adds to our mounting Fitbit step total, but we have bigger fish to fry as hiking at the Dodge Point Preserve 18 miles away in Newcastle awaits. Next Saturday’s blog!