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Minimoon 3: Dampness
Aug. 17th, 2008 01:32 amWe prepared for this trip by buying hi-tech rain slickers from Eastern Mountain Sports.1 Today we used them — the sun was smothered in mist, and our first hike was wet, through deep and mossy woods that drizzled rainwater from green needles and tufts of beard lichen. We'd taken the bus to the western side of the island, and that gray and lovely little leg of the Acadia Mountain Trail was our first stop. Our second was lunch in Southwest Harbor: damn fine pizza (with chicken, hot — no, really, hot — peppers, and ricotta) and a brilliant apple tart at a place called Little Notch Café. (We've had really good luck with food this trip. Thank you, Moon travel guide!) The rain had stopped, but not the grim overcast and the fog. We stood and watched the water for a while, with ravens flapping around a harbor full of half-seen sailboats.
Our primary destination was at the southern tip of the island: a squat old lighthouse with a red eye, and, just down the road, the Ship Harbor trail, which leads to acres of tidepools. Joy!![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
adfamiliares munched wild blackberries along the side of the road, then waited with beyond-the-call-of-duty patience while I poked at limpets and alarmed brine shrimp. There were hundreds of pools, rocky or seaweed-choked or dyed the color of Coke from filtering through the red algae. In the end, nothing topped the inch-wide starfish clinging to the underside of one rock in the first pool I looked into, though I did eventually find an infinite number of snails and barnacles (and one small crab). The brick-red rocks were cloaked in fog, and I spent more time in eerie pseudo-solitude than I did in sight of other humans.
The bus brought us home in time for a late dinner at a vegan/organic/local-produce place called Eden. (Thumbs up.) Tomorrow, after lunch, we return to reality.
1The fact that they match should not be taken as a sign of some sort of marital loss of individuality. Furthermore, it is a complete coincidence, and not sickeningly cute, that they are in our wedding colors.
Our primary destination was at the southern tip of the island: a squat old lighthouse with a red eye, and, just down the road, the Ship Harbor trail, which leads to acres of tidepools. Joy!
adfamiliares munched wild blackberries along the side of the road, then waited with beyond-the-call-of-duty patience while I poked at limpets and alarmed brine shrimp. There were hundreds of pools, rocky or seaweed-choked or dyed the color of Coke from filtering through the red algae. In the end, nothing topped the inch-wide starfish clinging to the underside of one rock in the first pool I looked into, though I did eventually find an infinite number of snails and barnacles (and one small crab). The brick-red rocks were cloaked in fog, and I spent more time in eerie pseudo-solitude than I did in sight of other humans.The bus brought us home in time for a late dinner at a vegan/organic/local-produce place called Eden. (Thumbs up.) Tomorrow, after lunch, we return to reality.
1The fact that they match should not be taken as a sign of some sort of marital loss of individuality. Furthermore, it is a complete coincidence, and not sickeningly cute, that they are in our wedding colors.
