As summer comes to a close, the sun is setting further south and can finally be seen dipping below the horizon here. Sunset is a very busy time at Bass Harbor Head Lighthouse. Everyone hopes for that perfect photo. One night people abandoned their cars on the road so as not to miss it since the parking lot was full. If I sit in the living room, I can see people running down the hill to catch their photos.
Rather than join the crowd lately, I have enjoyed my own views.
This was a beauty.Sunset and the 1961 bell reflected in the bell house window.
Sunset and bell reflection, and shadows on the bell house.
I march to my own drummer. This seems to be especially true when I swim. My watch tracks my path when we swim in Echo lake.
Apparently I swim in circles. I spun a lot of wool while talking to visitors outside the lighthouse. I’ll have plenty of lovely yarn to work with for months to come.
It’s almost a wrap and I am enjoying the beauty of these last few days.
The bees around the lighthouse are busy pollinating the marigolds, beach roses and ragwort. My neighbor spotted a few bees at my hive. I suspect they are merely robbers but time will tell.
We took the Maine DOT ferry to Swans Island last week with bikes and had a grand time despite all the hills. One stop was the Burnt Coat Harbor Lighthouse. It shows what a community working together can accomplish. From about 2007 to now, they restored it to its current, pristine state. Well worth the stop.
After another hike, we drove Acadia’s Park Loop Road. We saw first hand some of the parking issues elsewhere in the park. There was a mile long line of cars parked alongside the popular Sand Beach.
We found some quiet spots anyway – not at Sand Beach
As summer rolls by, many beautiful boats pass the lighthouse.
They make us wonder, for a moment, if we would like another boat, besides Sparky.
Just for a moment.
The hammock offers a peaceful retreat from the crowds. There is usually a breeze and it rocks me right to sleep.
While the sunset is beautiful, we discovered you can’t actually see the sun sink below the horizon from the rocks, in summer. It’s a winter spectacle when it sets further south.
There were two, mildly rotten, weed filled, half barrels at the lighthouse when we moved in. I freshened them up and filled them with veggies and flowers and they are flourishing.
Most photographed flowers at Bass Harbor Head LighthouseSalad futures and herb garden
With all the fog and rain, I have only had to water them twice in 6 weeks!
A ferry and bike ride let me get a new perspective of the area.
Great Cranberry Isle sailboat display
I succumbed to the most popular photo of the lighthouse, besides selfies, taken from the rocks.
You can see why it’s popular and the light isn’t even on yet.
The house takes on a different view at night
This week, I found the perfect setup for my hammock; hidden from the masses but with a beautiful view.
While I formulate my own plan of action, spending time in nature and sharing a national park, with all its wonders, helps.
Ollie, the lighthouse dog
Look for his book sometime in the future. He is the sweetest dog, charms all the kids and pet lovers and hikes like a monster. So brave, so cute. He became a Bark Ranger because he followed all the Park’s dog rules while his handlers became Junior Rangers, because they completed their activities in the Junior Ranger book.
Today I chose a different perspective. I took a boat tour to understand the layout of the islands seen on my horizon. It left from Bass Harbor and was terrific. Conditions were perfect and I learned more about lobster and fish conservation practices, the lighthouse, marine wildlife and geology. We saw harbor seals, grey seals, a bald eagle, guillemots and cormorants.
My to do list is getting shorter. We leave in a week to become caretakers at Bass Harbor Head lighthouse. If you are one of the 100,000! people who visit annually, please say hi.
The National Park Service acquired it from the US Coast Guard in 2020 and we will be its first NPS caretakers! Mount Desert Island is technically an island but we can drive there.
Time to clean the fridge. Meals become interesting as we eat through its contents.
Time to finish projects I can’t take with me. Actually, I will take my latest with me in its finished form. Back in March, I started weaving a queen size blanket made of alpaca silk yarn. I planned and calculated but still ran short of yarn 2/3 through and could not find more. I found some similar though, waited for it to be delivered, and made do.
Hot off the loom
I wove about 10 yards of fabric, cut it into three panels and, poof, we have a blanket to take to Maine.
Tim is in full form so I no longer am responsible for EVERYTHING!! Of course, he is already doing too much.
Sparky is sporting a new windshield but won’t be making this trip with us. He is strictly a lake boat. I found a great guy in the north country with a can do attitude and he did it!
We plan to bike the 45+ miles of carriage road in the park and I converted Tim’s bike to fit me, while he had a new recumbent bike delivered to Maine.
My car may look like the Beverly Hillbillies because I also fixed my roof rack just in case.
Tim and I have been caretakers in every season and weather around the world. It’s a fabulous life. I have a chance to reflect on this today while I warm up and drink my tea. I just finished snowblowing the homestead after we received an additional 14” of snow. And I may have to do it again.
Tim had a minor procedure and was told, “no heavy lifting”.
Last year, while we were at Schoodic Institute, where our one major task was to hand shovel 20 doorways, he broke his wrist, again. And we got lots of snow….I shoveled.
Two years prior, he broke his wrist in winter…I snowblowed. He had also selected the elm trees he wanted cut down for a future project. After a quick chainsaw refresher lesson, we snowshoed into the woods.,,I chainsawed. We brought them home on a sled, where they dried until he was healed and could build our bed.
It’s becoming a blur to me. Something happened just before we ordered three cords of wood…I stacked. And something else before a hill of sand blocked the road on Deal Island…I shoveled. Maybe his timing is just right! We make the perfect team.
Not just any island, offshore please. Ideally with only two occupants. Yesterday made it perfectly clear to me why I love these opportunities. In between putting up window grates and storing the multitude of benches that now reside here, I stared in awe at the sky as it constantly changed. Black clouds brought a little rain and then moved to the north.
From the vantage point of a hill atop an offshore island, and safely onshore, clouds, gloomy skies and rain are spectacular.
And you need clouds and rain to form rainbows. As we got ready for dinner, Tim saw a rainbow out front. I went out back to see it and watched it with the current, resident peregrine falcon.
Until he found something to hunt and flew off.
This is the view I wake up to from our bed looking south to mile buoy. There is also the sound of the wind, bell buoys flag halyards.
We have not seen any whales but the boat traffic is interesting. With a Marine Traffic app, many times we can identify the boats and ships we see offshore. It makes them less anonymous as they drift or cruise by.
And of course it helps that Tim and I usually enjoy each other’s company and work well together. I couldn’t do this without such an excellent partner.
The island’s apple trees are loaded with fruit but located on a ledge, surrounded by poison ivy. Tim loves apple pie and may be immune to poison ivy so he set off and gathered several.
I decided to make a small “pie” as a test. It was pretty delicious.
The summer garden still has lots of basil, mint and yellow squash.
I wish I was bound to an island but for now, we are at our home away from home, Seguin Island, Maine. The weather shone upon us and we arrived on island with only one dunking. Me of course but no harm was done, just a little bruised ego.
First glance of Seguin
I started dreading the trip about a year ago, largely because our arrival by dinghy, with all we need, is always a crap shoot. Once we make it ashore, wet or dry, our stuff – food, keyboard, clothing and knitting – then has to make it up 300 feet to our quarters.
There used to be a donkey engine and tram to haul our stuff when we were first here in 2008. But alas it no longer works. Leave it to Friends of Seguin to come up with a solution. They built a hand trolley we pushed up the tram and got our gear up the hill in two trips. Luckily there was a group of strapping young men on the beach who helped us carry our water (in 48 lb jugs) to the trolley.
Trolley at the top of the tram
So maybe I won’t dread our first day next year. Just maybe.
The island keeps getting better. It’s lush this year and the apple trees are loaded with fruit. I may try to make a pie with them. I didn’t bring any in an effort to keep the weight, ours and our gear’s, down.
We found a new type of tree on the North Trail, a crab tree!
Crabtree
The first order fresnel lens is sparkling.
And the solar led lights work fine.
The old back up lens is in the Museum. Now that the light is solar powered, no need for backup.
When we moved from our boat to a permanent home, I had one request, well actually two. The first was that I wanted to be able to see lots of sky, wide expanses to watch weather fronts sweep by, with the occasional rainbow for good luck. The second was that the kitchen be bigger than the boat’s galley. We found both but the kitchen is only barely bigger than the boat’s. And in fact, the storage on the boat was better.
Home has open sky and mountains around us. The mountains limit our views of the actual sunrise and sunset, we see it when it appears over or sinks behind them. Alas, it’s not quite the same as open expanses of sky and sea. Here on Schoodic point, we enjoy a vast view of the sky, the clouds and the sea. And our spaceship, water tower.
Even the reflection of sunset on Little Moose Island is striking.
The ice is finally all gone. The ponds in the rocks can once again reflect the clouds and sky. I’ll enjoy these views for a few more days before we head back to the mountains and home.
Island and North Country Life 