No corny title will do: Maine is just too gorgeous. Maine.

Salt water runs in my veins (do you crave salt, too?), and at the beginning of my favorite month, we visited the place that never ceases to refresh and swell me with crashing refreshment.



Tucked away on that dark, starry island each night in our room over the bay listening to boats and banter from the lobster bake-- with him


and then waking to blueberry pancakes and amber syrup, walking until our ears stung and our breath and the pines' blent. All those months of craving outside, and we were so hungry, we couldn't gulp fast enough.


The trip exhilarated, and we said that phrase that carried us right out of ourselves: This is beautiful. Isn't this SO beautiful? What got me most, what always does about Maine, was that smell. The smarmy sea, the sharp pines, and the sweet forest moss together. This is why people buy pine cushions.


He took over 1500 photos, and these are just one part of one day.

Thanks for reading still despite infrequent posts. I miss you. I miss writing here and holding the photos up for you to smell the fresh air in them too. Fresh air is even more held onto these days.


I want to write more again. So do come back.


p.s. It might have been a wee bit chilly.