With time to spare on a load to South Portland, I caught a ride to the seaside. What a delight it was to see the Atlantic again! I haven't stepped in it's waters since I was a boy. I started the day at Two Lights, and strode into the surf still wearing socks and shoes. This I later regretted, but was completely enchanted with.
People were scattered on the rocks, watching the spray and the sailboats on a cloudless day; one man was fishing, and pulled in a striped sea bass while I watched.
The driver had directed me to the lobster shack for lunch, and there I soon bent my sloshing steps. I am lately a lover of Lobster Rolls, having tried them for the first time in Salt Lake City. Homemade blueberry pie to accompany, and all of it seasoned with a view of the sea. After this I walked the 6 miles up to Fort William's Park, the home of Portland Head Light.
This view inspired the following ditty (an emblem of our school?), and I was fascinated to learn of all the hands that go toward maintaining a lighthouse through the ages. New hands, new lenses to focus, new paint on the exterior; but an unchanging tradition of guidance, refuge and safe harbor.
Perched on shores of treacherous shoals
Where water heaves and, crashing, rolls
Beneath the beam that scans for souls,
The weathered prow and turning lens
That mortal after mortal tends
Stands firm unto the end of ends.
I finished the day with a stroll along the wharfside in downtown Portland; a well-made margherita pizza at the Porland Pie Co.; a cigar for desert by sundown over the city; and a third conversation with yet another driver as I returned to the truck.
(P.S. I also experienced sore feet and a small blister; the loss of my phone, and it's safe return; and the sight of a doomsday preacher in the park. Those and other pleasures I reserve for my later amusement.)