This morning I went to a cafe a few doors down from work for breakfast. It’s decorated with paintings by local artists and shelves crammed with used paperbacks — highbrow and classic, all — and tucked into a beautiful garden down an alley.
The leaves are already changing in Bar Harbor. The weather is still warm; the grass is still green; the flowers still bloom, but the leaves are falling. Tourist season winds down. It’s stunning.
It hurts to see this without you. I drive onto the island each morning and look at the ocean, and you’re not here. It feels disloyal to be somewhere so wonderful while you’re still at home, alone, and suffering.
I know. We’ve talked about this. Your condition makes it that much more important that I go out and do things, see things, for both of us. But none of it is full without you.
You should be here to smell the food. Listen to the techno-reggae-jazz and the conversations of international tourists and local seasonal workers. We should be sharing bacon and coffee.
The past few days have not involved any hikes in our local national park. Instead, we’ve been focusing on running on the street where we live.
I’ve always hated running. It hurts. It’s hard. It’s sweaty and uncomfortable. But, Geoff and I agree that we want our daughter to participate on the cross-country team this Fall. She needs the exercise and the experience. I don’t want to ask her to do something I wouldn’t do, so….
I’ve started running. And what do you know, I’m beginning to enjoy it. Each time I run our street, I see something new and beautiful, and I find that being outside combined with the challenge of running does wonders for my state of mind.
The street we live on runs along a lake and river. There used to be a mill across the river from us, back when this was a prosperous mill town. That was a long time ago, though, and now it’s just a bigger-small town in Maine. What this means for us is that we live in an area full of gorgeous scenery — most of which is still affordable for the average Joe. A few miles away, things get pretty fancy pretty fast, but where we are, life is still real.
The Movies for Geoff I’m attaching today are ones captured just outside our door or just down the street. They’re pretty low-tech, but still neat.
My daughter, Bella, and our dog, Cerby, walked through Birdsacre yesterday. The trails are not long, but they are fairly wild.
New additions to the Movies for Geoff:
Jordan Pond and Cadillac Mountain Summit, with Cerby, July 2, 2015.
Today was Cerberus’ first trip to Acadia National Park — making it The Best Day Ever in her mind. We walked from Thunder Hole to Otter Point and made friends the whole way there and back, including @thedogist.
It was also my first hike in Acadia – an embarrassing but true fact. I’ve been suffering from “local’s malaise,” that idea that since something is nearby, and I can do it anytime, I don’t need to do it today. Well, today, I woke up and realized the folly of that mindset. I grabbed my coffee and my dog, and bought an annual pass.
Being good locals, we wrapped up the day with a stop at Atlantic Brewing Company. 😉