A Room with a View

This week, I headed north again to New England, specifically the coast of Maine and more specifically Bar Harbor and Acadia National Park.  Bar Harbor, which is situated on Mount Desert Island, was originally called Eden and that first name aptly describes this wondrous place.  Eden was incorporated in 1796, but the town’s name was changed to Bar Harbor in 1918. The mountains meet the sea, and that is definitely how I imagine Eden: coves, inlets, rocky beaches, meadows filled with lupine, lakes dotted with white lily pads, horses grazing in lush meadows, and clouds drifting over a peaceful bay.  This is where I love to come to enjoy the last weeks of summer.  This is where painters such as Frederic E. Church, Thomas Cole, and William Hart came to immortalize this sumptuous seascape in the 1850’s.  My husband and I come with cameras in hand to capture all that Eden has to offer.

We found a historic inn that overlooked Frenchman Bay.  When we opened the door to our room, we were immediately greeted by the sea.  Sliding glass doors to the balcony invited us to sit and take in the natural and nautical beauty.  We could see the many pristine islands  in the bay including: Burnt Porcupine, Bald Porcupine, Sheep Porcupine, Long Porcupine and Bar Island. At low tide, and a land bridge is created from Bar Harbor to adjacent Bar Island. Tourists traverse the land bridge collecting shells and other treasures as they hike to the island with its pine woods and wildflower meadows.  

Our room made me realize the importance of having a view is to mood, enjoyment, and a sense of well-being.  My husband and I spent many hours on the balcony watching and photographing what we saw out to sea and on the Shore Path below. We didn’t have to go anywhere; we could just relax and watch the scenery change.  One morning, we got up just as the sun rose.  Everything was bathed in pink light.  The lobstermen were already out on the bay setting traps and hoisting them into the water. I sat and watched them and looked out to the jetty, Egg Rock Lighthouse, and the sea beyond.  I felt small in a good way.  I was not overwhelmed, quite the opposite. I was comforted by the enormous beauty of this place, and I was filled with a sense of peace and happiness knowing that I  a part of it. 

By traveling to Acadia every year, I have absorbed all its charm and grandeur.  It is now inside me: the pink cubist rocks of the Seawall, the boats dotting Steamboat Wharf in Seal Harbor, the crushed shell beach at Flying Mountain, the charming downtown shops and restaurants of Northeast and Southwest Harbors, and the Monet-like bridge at Somesville, the rough beauty of Bass Harbor and Tremont, and the heavenly view from Cadillac Mountain. All of these are etched in my mind so that when I am not here, I can conjure them up and bring forth a sense of reassurance and beauty.