The Coast News Group
Small Talk

Lakefront weekend is gloriously lazy

Do I look strangely serene? I have a much better understanding of why all those folks in New England put up with the wild winters.
All it took was three days on Lake Messalonskee. I had the great luxury of paddling about in a kayak, surrounded by thick, green forest and falling asleep to the sound of the loons echoing down the lake. We lived in our swimsuits and I was hard-pressed to comb my hair in the morning. No make-up came out of my overnight bag. I was so relaxed, they almost had to pick me up with a sponge. It (dare I say it?) truly rivaled my best day at the beach.
The real bonus was that we were in a house just 25 feet from lake’s edge. Being able to roll in, from swimming, being pulled behind a boat on an inner tube, kayaking or just lounging, to immediate access to food and a bed is true joy. I feel the same way about beach houses right on the ocean, but no one has offered me one.
I do have to add, though, it was also lovely not having any sand follow me home. And, darn, my cell phone didn’t work there, either. With a good book under my arm, that is rather how I envision heaven.
I was visiting the very gracious parents of my son’s college roommate. My poor hostess had to struggle a bit to understand that, no, I wasn’t bored, I didn’t feel the least neglected and I didn’t need more things to do. It took all my self-discipline to get up and do some sightseeing in some gorgeous Maine coastal towns and lighthouses and feast on lobster. Yes, it was terribly demanding, but I felt it was my duty as a tourist to support their local industries, right down to the blueberry wine.
I kept waiting to see a moose, but it seems they are shy of West Coast oglers. I was, however, quite content to instead see the wild Maine coast, get splashed by the opposite ocean and delight in the fact that even their freeway borders are absolutely lush with foliage. Every little house in every little town is cute and colonial and there seems to be so much space between each one. I saw none of the cheek by jowl living we have become so accustomed to around these parts.
I know, I know. There’s a reason for that and that reason rolls in by October and doesn’t roll out until late May. Our hostess sent me photos of the snow pile in front of their house that was still 6 feet high in April. But I was really skilled at putting all of that out of my mind. Instead, I just reveled in the peak summer wonderfulness and am, without a doubt, a calmer, nicer person because of it.
I think we all need to send them a thank you note.