Maine-ly the same
The last day on the lake strangely feels like the first one: the same long run in the morning, looking for loons calling to one another, swimming in the sun and then in the shade, crossing the lake for the breakfast muffins and the New York Times, cooking a quiet and unhurried dinner… With an extra in the form of an hydroplane taking on and off from the lake in the afternoon. The only difference being this bittersweet knowledge that this is the last day and that we have this long drive down to New York City. And that maybe another ten years will pass before we retreat once again to this most relaxing of places… Even the kids eventually learned how to enjoy “doing nothing” with no TV and no internet! And appreciated taking long breakfasts while reading the Times or sipping a hot New England clam chowder soup in the evening, while listening to the loon calls…

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