Sunday, August 17, 2025
Friday, August 15, 2025
visitors
There are no traffic lights in Lubec
Or anyplace else for miles around
Along the Down East Maine coast
Where we escape from the August heat
On occasion someone will wave
As we drive past them in their yard
And I will wave back greeting them
Acknowledging their presence
The roads follow the contour of the land
Up and down and around repeating
In no rush to get anywhere
Riding along with no other car in sight
Stopping at a trailhead destination
We might be the only ones there
Pausing to take in our surroundings
In the quiet absence of machine noise
Hiking breathing in balsam fir air
Marveling at the lush ground cover
Viewing the ocean waves from atop the bluffs
Massage the shore as the tide rises and falls
Visitors in an undisturbed natural place
Where the forest occupies almost completely
Where the retreating glacier recently left behind
A jumble of multicolored beach rocks rolled round
Where the Passamaquoddy still live
In what remains of their ancestral lands
Spanning the arbitrary international border
Keeping their language and traditions alive
Thursday, August 14, 2025
Wednesday, August 13, 2025
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