November 1, 2002

Dear Mom:

...2002 marked my third fall on Mount Desert Island, Maine. My version of ‘adventure’ in Maine is the ‘adventure’ of being alone. I travel to Maine during the off-season, arriving mid-late October. (One longs for an Indian summer, but often resigns to retrieving their down featherbeds and stoking the fireplace just the same.) Finishing their last week of business for the year, the stores offer discount but the customers are few. Last October, I arrived too late to indulge in the lobster pounds - how I missed the lobsta’, corn on the cob, and rolls – all drenched with butter!

The colors were exceptional. Overwhelming. Almost too much beauty at once – an overdose. Sometimes, I would seek a solid patch of green conifers so that I could focus on them before returning my eyes back to the abundant reds, yellows, oranges. As they say, one needs to recognize the mediocre in order to give full appreciation to the magnificent.

For me, Maine remains a heavenly retreat like no other. It is so peaceful that time seems to stop. The truth is revealed only by the slight changes in color from day to day. Time happens, and then it’s gone...

Love, Anne