Thunder Hole and Another Bar Harbor Sunset

Thunder Hole, Acadia National Park

24 June 2016

We were milling about outside of the teaching lab. Ariana said she wanted to see Thunder Hole. Five of us squeezed into her rental car and headed to Acadia. We used my pass to get in. The tide was on its way out; we'd missed peak thunder of waves crashing into a hollow in the rocks. Still, it was booming enough.

On the path that led to the rocks, a baby squirrel was eating. It didn't appear to care that there were people around.

There were the usual flip-flopped tourists, and a handful of serious photographers with tripods. I did the best I could with my little Canon.

Jessie took a picture of Shannon while I figured out where to walk next.

The walkway down to the source of the thunder was blocked off, still damp from high tide.

I walked out to the edge over the cave. At high tide, this would all be under water.

I sat on the ledge for a long time.

Can I stay here forever?

"Ready when you are," Jessie called from above.

"Okay."

The little critter was still on the path as I made my way back to the car.

We drove straight into town, where our chosen restaurant had an hour and a half wait. Ariana put her name in, and we went back to last night's restaurant for beers. I took a walk through town instead, in search of suitable moose for Jack.

Buying moose in Bar Harbor is easy. Different stores have the same ones. They're all cheap, as stuffed moose go.

I made it back to the group with plenty of time, and we were there for at least another half hour. There were more beers at the restaurant, and it was dark and late when we left. The conversation among us, helped along by alcohol, was more personal than it had been before.

For the fourth night in a row, I went to bed far too late.

*****

Today was the last day of class. There was no lab component today; it was all sitting in the conference room. We ended ahead of schedule and started early on the wine and cheese outside. Not very many of us were left, and then it was down to seven. Ariana whipped out a bottle of wine she'd squirreled away from the reception. When that was gone, it was time for dinner. We went back into town.

Dinner, then ice cream, then a walk to the dock, where we caught the last of the sunset in the harbor.

What did we do our last day on Hardwood Island? I don't remember.

The motorboat pulled away from the dock. 

There is no pain
You are receding
A distant ship smoke on the horizon. 

I stood in the back and watched the island disappear into the fog, as if it had never happened. 

I have become 
Comfortably numb