Hello again from Sarah Graves, in Eastport, Maine where the storm did not do much of anything. A little wind, a little rain, a few blown-away tarps. Really, if you’re going to spend tarp money you might as well let the boatyard shrink-wrap it in blue plastic, at least according to the boatyard. And when I was out there today I did not see any torn blue shrink-wrap, just nice tight stuff, so I guess they know.
Eastport on a cloudy day in November has its own kind of glamor, but I’d be lying if I said it was the easy, flashy stuff mid-summer tosses around. For one thing you’ve got to be dressed in layers just to get out there and appreciate it, and I’m not sure I know anyone who finds it easiest to fall in love while dressed in layers. On the other hand, the fact that Eastport does manage to impress even on a grey day says something for it.
One good thing about cooler temperatures is that the dog likes them. Instead of dragging behind on our walks, she’s now out front. Being in Eastport for a year has helped; last year at this time Evelyn was a terrified blob of yellow protoplasm and not much more. There’s nothing like the lap of luxury plus the devotion of not one but two human beings, however, to improve a dog’s belief that maybe things will be okay after all. Or so Evelyn seems to feel.
Most of the restaurants in town are still open, even though most of the tourists are gone. The Pickled Herring plans to open Fridays and Saturdays through New Year’s, which means I’ll be able to get their black bean cakes with garlic mashed potatoes, maple baked yams, and locally-grown green salad a few more times. Ditto for the Liberty Cafe (gyros, souvlaki, moussaka) and for Bank Square Pizza (authentic Mexican: rice & beans w/a taquito, anyone?). But Eastport Lobster is closed for the season so no more lobster rolls outside until next year.
Really, we are on the edge of winter. These last terribly vivid colors are like distress flags from the summer that’s gone. Nothing for it, then, but to put out one foot and then the other, tentatively at first but getting the hang of it again after a while as we always do.
Glad the storm did not unleash its ferocity on you . . . winter often brings enough of its own kind of fierceness.
There is a special beauty in Maine at this time of year. I went out in our raised bed garden yesterday to document the lonely flower spike on a delphinium while geese flew over on their way to the river across the road behind the cemetery. So glad Eastport remains vibrant and with great food choices after the influx of tourists has subsided.
I love the colors of fall. There’s a salt marsh on the drive down Rt. 24 to Bailey Island that’s a lovely gray-green in summer, but in the fall, it turns a dozen different shades of reds and browns and golds. The sumac goes a rich red and the sea changes into colder colors.
In a piece she wrote years ago, my late mother used the word “sere” and it seems to fit very well.
Good to know that Maine was not hardly hit by the storm. And it is very important that they are still opening there stores even if there are less tourist due to the hurricane. Business is business though if there safety is really at risk then better close it.