I end every summer with a trip north to the land of wild blueberries, to the land of lobsters, to the land of pine trees, to the land of 3,478 miles of tidal coastline. That is to say that I go to Maine every August. My husband and I take a slow crawl up the coastline driving through York, Ogunquit, Kennebunkport, Portland, Freeport, Boothbay Harbor, Rockland, Camden, Belfast until we reach our final destination, Bar Harbor and the beautifully rugged Acadia National Park. Maine sustains me like no other state, not even my home state of NewJersey. Now, New Jersey is known for its Atlantic shore, but it has a very different type of ruggedness. It is definitely not the quiet, peaceful beauty of Maine. The week I journey to Maine is just before school starts and my busy year begins.
I’ve chosen Maine on purpose. Its trees, rocky beaches, and gleaming ocean dotted with islands is just the most uplifting scenery. And I definitely need the steady reassurance of this quiet beauty. I take my fill as we hike the many trails in Acadia. I know Maine is renowned for its lobster, and I do enjoy that treat dipped in drawn butter. I confess, I’d like almost anything if it was dipped in melted butter. But on this trip I focused on the blueberries. Even though in late August the wild blueberries are gone, I marveled at all the wild blueberries bushes that line the trails. They seemed to grown everywhere.
And in town almost every gift shop and bookstore proudly displayed Robert McCloskey’s classic, Blueberries for Sal. The restaurants offered blueberry muffins, pies, cobblers, ice cream, and cakes.The stores were stocked with blueberry lotions, soaps, towels, cups, aprons, and t-shirts! Blueberries hold their own with Maines’ steaming red lobsters. Who wouldn’t love a place like this?
Everywhere I hiked, I stopped, paused and breathed in the Atlantic ocean breezes and said a little prayer of gratitude. I was so grateful to have this time to celebrate the end of summer and to refuel. If Bar Harbor weren’t a ten hour drive through Boston traffic, I would like to see Cadillac Mountain in all its fall color glory. But that may have to be reserved for a time when I retire, whenever that time comes! For now, I will sooth myself with the images of the coastal trails and the smell of fresh wild blueberry cake.
Word Dancer: Literature, the Arts, & Education 
Yes, such a holiday is needed. And fortunately we are able to take them. When in Germany we ate strawberries, plums and cherries and enjoyed them. In Heidelberg in a wine shop we saw bottles and bottles of strawberry .
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What a fabulous end of the summer experience. May the rest of the year carry the blueberry delight feeling into its days.
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Joanne, I love that you take this trek every year at the end of summer. Lobsters and blueberries. Yes, indeed: “Who wouldn’t love a place like this?” I’ve never had the privilege of being there, but someday maybe. The photos add so much, and so I feel like I got to go along with you vicariously at least. I love those last lines of your poem especially. “a sweet blue souvenir / of the fleeting summer.” It reminded me of a plum tree I had in a house I lived in one summer. I made plum sauce to “pour over everything” Lovely post!
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Fantastic writing! I love how the ending poem paralleled the ideas in your post. Strong imagery with excellent word choice(s) like scraggly, “I would pour over everything…”, cool water, and ample.
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You had me at MAINE!!! 😊
THIS has to be the best PRE-back-to-school ritual ever. Thank you for sharing. Just the names of all the towns on the way to Bar Harbor reads like a poem to me. The tags that accompany this writing make me smile. So many good mood words. And the photos! Blueberry displays indoors and outdoors. Just beautiful. Cheers to the future fall climb on Cadillac Mountain. I hope to do that too when I retire.
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“sweet blue souvenir” oh, I love that. I thought of Blueberries for Sal right away. When I took classes at UNH we usually made at least one visit to Acadia. It’s no wonder you choose that place for a final boost as the school year reopens. One of my other favorites of all time, Miss Rumphius, is set on the Maine coast. Her goal, to leave the world better than she found it with beautiful lupines is an inspiration to me still.
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I have a print of Miss Rumphius on my office wall. I tried to take lupine photos, but they came out like a sea of blurry purple. There’s always next year! Thanks for the kind words.
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