Sunset, Bar Harbor, Maine
22 June 2016
We don't have to be in class until 1:00. That's plenty of time to take the car into Acadia National Park and back up the mountain.
Today is cloudy and slightly humid, with a little wind and several Vermont Bike Tour groups grinding along Park Loop Road. I have impeccable timing.
Shannon and I take our time taking pictures.
We walk down a short path to Sand Beach. Sand Beach, because it's the only one that is.
This, right here, is what Maine means:
And this:
And this:
Farther along the loop:
The cottage I mentioned yesterday, which is across from Jordan Pond, is a private residence:
Lupines at the Jordan Pond carriage house:
Jordan Pond with the Boobies in the background:
The Cadillac Mountain ascent looks different in the morning and when the wind isn't threatening to rip my camera out of my hands.
Blue Hill Overlook, near the summit:
I lay on my back, at an angle, against the rock, looking at the world at an angle, and I couldn't tell which way was down. This isn't where that was. I don't know where that was, but it wasn't here. That was where the fire tower was. I don't know where that is.
Can I stay here forever?
At the summit, we walked out onto the rocks:
How else would we be able to post to Facebook from the top of a mountain?
It's 11:30. We have an hour and a half to get off the mountain and grab some lunch before class. I take the first parking spot I see.
So. The Bubbles/Boobies thing is more than a 34-year-old private joke after all:
I have to take pictures of every moose thing I see, of course, and then text them to Jack.
This one's for Joe. Cheryl will understand:
Back out on the street, a man points to the sky, where a crow is chasing a bald eagle.
Take my word for it.
We find a sandwich shop and order to go. We're running on east coast time. Bar Harbor runs on vacation time. We barely get to class on time.
After a pair of lectures is a reception under the watchful eye of a moose.
I get chatting with one of the older participants, someone who once worked here and is back for a few months. I learn that the fire tower
We hiked as a group to the tower and started to climb. Shrouded in fog, we saw nothing. A few of us got ahead on the way back. We waited and waited, and then they came stomping out of the woods onto the rocks. "What took you so long?" "Blueberries!"
is on Beech Mountain. I don't think I'll be able to get there this trip.
Somehow I find myself among a group of eight wanting to go into town for dinner. We pick a restaurant on the water. I feel strangely comfortable talking about neuroscience with these grad students and post-docs. Nobody is trying to outsmart or one-up anyone else. If they're competitive in the lab, they're not competitive here. It's refreshing.
Today is the longest day of the year. We watch the sun set on the harbor.
Somebody suggests ice cream or chocolate, both of which are nearly as abundant as moose.
We find a shop that smells like the New Jersey Boardwalk, and then we wander back to the harbor. The moon is rising.
It disappears behind a cloud.
Outside of our cabin, the air is thick with the scent of honey locust.
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