This trip to Maine was unplanned. Originally, Mom was coming to Georgia for Thanksgiving, but a couple months back she took a terrible fall that resulted in two brain bleeds and a detached lens in her right eye. Mom just had a second surgery on her eye, and may require one more. For the time being we are having a good visit and, as always, her spirit is great. She is one tough gal! Justin and Josh will arrive on Friday--icing on the cake.
I always enjoy the drive along Route 2 from Old Town to Greenbush that runs parallel to the Penobscot River. From time to time the trees thin out or a field spreads out toward its banks and I can look for something out of the ordinary unfolding on the river. This drive was no disappointment. On a small sandbar an eagle was hunkered down with a fish in its talons. Violent jerks of its beak it stripped away pieces of flesh. I slowed down to a crawl and watched.
Fading hues of orange, yellow, and red have replaced the lush green corridor that just weeks ago walled the gravel road that leads to the cabin, and then transformed into a brilliant palette of vibrant Fall colors that explode across New England each autumn. They disappear as quickly as Fourth of July fireworks.
Our cabin has no insulation or electricity, so this time of year whatever the temperature is outside it's gonna be the same inside the spartan dwelling; it was 24 degrees! Needless to say, the first business at hand was getting a nest of kindling into the wood stove and a nice hot fire going! For the next couple of hours I fed it with small, fast burning wood and hovered over it trying to get warm. The particular aroma of burning wood, glowing embers, and the crackling and popping sounds of a fire never grows old.