The Little Red Cottage where we stayed for most of our trip to Maine. This grand adventure was one of our most memorable trips ever. Most of these fotos were lost for years after the 2010 house fire and recently recovered. A good many remain missing and probably lost forever. Life goes on anyway. I start composing this foto-essay for my family in August 2024, 15 years after those wonderful, halcyon summer days of August 2009. We all loved this little cabin. You can see the blue waters of the lake thru openings in the trees.

Crawford Pond, the huge lake the Little Red Cottage overlooks. The cabin sits back in the woods up on a ridge overlooking the water’s edge. Both cottage and pond weren’t too far from the little town of Union in Downeast Maine. In Maine and in much of New England lakes were called ponds. We swam and paddled in it daily. Monday 17 August 2009.

Water’s Edge. Canoe of dreams. People didn’t worry about theft despite stories of rare, rogue hermits back in the woods who pilfered around for supplies.

Kate takes the leap!

Happy sisters! Morgan (now Dylan) & Talia grinning away at Acadia National Park, Wednesday 19 August 2009.

These two former lovebirds, however, when together during those years were the reason this Familymoon Adventure happened. Kristina Katayama Bass & William Dudley Bass at Acadia National Park, Maine, on Wednesday the 19th of August 2009.

Our trip to Maine was also made possible by Kristina’s close friend Andrea of Connecticut, whose family owned land up in Maine on and around Crawford Pond including the Little Red Cottage. Andrea invited us to join her and her sons there for a rent-free week. We helped out with groceries, chores, shared car expenses, and honored the water restrictions, of course. Andrea’s was a most generous wedding gift, and our blended family of 5 most appreciated it. Here’s Andrea, in green fleece on picture left, with Kristina, on picture right in the white shirt, on the 20-mile roundtrip boat ride to Monhegan Island out in the Atlantic.

Newly handfasted, Kristina & William about to jump the broom during their Wedding. Talia holds the top of the broom handle on picture left while Kate & Morgan hold still the bristles in the head of the broom.

Woo HOO!

Our Familymoon to Maine was really about honoring these three sisters, what they bring into our lives and into our community, and what we do for them. Left to right: Talia (age 7), Kate (age 11), & Morgan (age 15). Saturday 11 July 2009.

BAM! Morgan, in a hurry to go find the restroom, runs into the, to her, invisible glass door. Her knee cracks the glass into a spider’s web of cracks. We are amazed! And she is too stunned and baffled to feel much pain. She claims she never even saw there was a door, just an open walk-thru. The shopkeeper, however, is FREAKING OUT! He is an immigrant, a person of color, and is afraid we are going to sue him for damages, so he tells us not to worry about anything. He keeps checking to see if our daughter is OK. It’s clear to him America is, unfortunately, a highly litigious country. Morgan claims she’s fine, just a little bit sore. So we tell him not to worry, just where are the restrooms, please? We had stopped to refuel the car with gasoline at a little gas station advertising itself as a donut, ice cream, & soda shop. We were all just as startled as Morgan and the shopkeeper were. Brought back memories of me crashing thru a glass door as a little boy racing thru the farmhouse back in Virginia and broken glass was scattered everywhere. Morgan’s knee didn’t seem to bother her much on this trip, but it would trouble her from time to time later on in life. Saturday the 15th of August 2009. We arrived late that evening after leaving Seattle on Friday the 14th. One thing for sure: the shopkeeper should congratulate himself on how clean his glass panes are!

This astonished us all. We were grateful no one was seriously injured.

Andrea’s Little Red Cottage beckons from the woods near the lake. A large yard spreads uphill to merge into fields and more woods. Monday 17 August 2009.

We immediately fell in love with this cute red cabin. We fell in love with the whole area.

Kate exits the cozy little kitchen.

The kitchen is tight, rustic, and we must conserve water. Despite the lake next to us, much of Maine is in a drought. The local families fret their wells may run dry. It has happened before. Here, however, we must empty the trash and clean up as we go. Andrea especially loved her steamed milk espresso machine, and showed us how to use to make hot chocolates as well. The machine’s not in this picture, tho, LOL! Nevertheless, one of our blended family’s mottos is, “We clean up as we go.”

There’s no AC here, and it’s hot and humid here on the East Coast. These ceiling fans, however, kept the cottage nice and cool. There’s no heating system, either, and the water’s turned off Fall thru Winter into late Spring. The Little Red Cottage is one of the stereotypical old-timey Summer Cabins of the Northern states.

Andrea’s two sons got along incredibly well with our 3 girls. They were courteous, welcoming, and fun, especially considering the somewhat cramped sleeping situations. Squabbles were few. One of the boys looks as if he’s trying to snap a foto of Talia’s stuffed fish toy while Kate is amused.

Every window’s a portal into tranquil views of nature at peace.

It was a different story on the outside of these windows, too. Huge – to us from the Pacific Northwest – spiders, big plump orb-weaver spiders guarded those windows. We kept them shut!

Wouldn’t you?

Pretty flowers were a welcome distraction from the giant spiders.

The North Woods of Maine and the brushy, grassy edges ringing the fields and lawns are infested with ticks. Even me, raised on a farm in Virginia and used to getting lots of ticks on me all the time, got the most ticks on me ever in the State of Maine. Twas taking a dump back in the bushes on the side of a hill along the Appalachian Trail. Had about 300 on me. Scoured them out with handfuls of wet sand and grit as I thrashed naked in a freezing cold creek. Left my skin bloody, raw, and clean. Those 300 Ticks were way back in 1991. Zounds! Maine!

Loved gazing up into the tops of those big North Woods trees.

There hides an outhouse on the edge of those woods atop the low hill behind the cabin. See it? There on the left?

The privy for when the one flush toilet in a cottage full of 8 people & random guests isn’t available.

Kate & Morgan goofin’ on one of the sofas. Monday the 17th of August 2009.

Those kids played so many hands of poker. The boys taught Kate & Talia how to play, and they quickly became really good. Morgan sometimes played, but like me, wasn’t too fond of cards and preferred to curl up with a good book to read instead. Once some of the adults happened to walk by just as Talia removed her socks and, surprised, made sure the kids were NOT playing strip poker. Talia didn’t quite know what it was at her age, and the older kids were surprised and grossed out.Also don’t recall which adult misconstrued matters, LOL! All of us, however, felt protective of all of the children.

Tater Tot Poker Face tongue!

“Back to the game, Dad.”

Well, don’t know what’s going on here, and, hey, each one of those kids knows a lot about poker than I ever did!

Munchkin! The real hero of the Little Red Cottage! Munchkin is so tiny, and he has only one eye left. He lost the other one when he punctured it bouncing around sniffing down into freshly mowed wild grass stalks. One of the severed stalks of grass stabbed his eyeball. Can’t imagine the agony! He was a lovable little dog, very friendly, and already along in years. We all adored him. Thing is, I never cared for tiny little lap dogs before I met Munchkin. Used to dismiss them as silly foo-foo dogs for spoiled, rich people. Not Munchkin. He slayed bullshit! And he hopped up into your lap like a cat showing you who’s boss, too. And he’s tinier than a cat! And he was so affectionate. Yeah, we all loved that little bitty doggie, and he opened my heart to appreciate other powerful, little foo-foos, too.

Munchkin outside the cabin.

Edge of the yard and the woods beyond…

Love these little clusters of dense vegetation thriving in the rocky Maine soil.

Someone had to mow out these little meadow-like cul-de-sacs in the forest. Monday 17 August 2009.

The Lake dominates. Life centers around, in, and on the Lake more than in the woods onshore or the Little Red Cottage. Everyone referred to it as Crawford Pond when describing it to others, but amongst ourselves we simply called it, The Lake. Monday 17 August 2009.

Memories

Do you see the giant stone turtle head rock?

One of Andrea’s family’s canoes.

Sticky Balls!

Tiger lilies still closed early in the northern mornings as summer’s going going going but not yet gone…

Ragged purple blossoms

Clusters in the shade

We’re at the Jumping Rock with the big rope swing. Andrea was at first hesitant to take us out there as there were risks and hazards, and outdoor adventure always has risks. Andrea’s on picture left in blue. Her sons are in the center with Kate working on untying the rope swing, out of site. Atop the boulder sits Kristina, Morgan, & Talia. The fotografer is me. Monday 17 August 2009.

Kristina, Morgan, & Talia. Morgan, being the oldest child by a few years and a teenager, often felt left out of the socializing. She wasn’t as gung ho as Kate & the boys. We didn’t let Talia jump at this time.

Kate prepares to jump out on the rope as the boys look on.

W H O A !!!

Wheee! There she goes!

Triumph and glee

Whew!

One of the boys shows off his rope acrobatics.

Kate & friends, Crawford Pond

Studied masculine focus.

Serious competition

is fun!

Talia, Morgan, & Kristina are each making 3 very different faces. Kristina often mesmerizes the kids with great stories from her many travels abroad, adventures,  and misadventures. Right now, however, she just wants to eat cheese.

Kate is so chill and so confident atop the launch tower.

Kate the Olympian!

Back to it!

He’s such a gentleman, returning the rope to Kate. Our 5 kids got along well together. Andrea’s sons continued to be welcoming and helpful. They played together so well, and when they did quarrel, they worked it out amongst themselves for the most part. The only one who seemed sort of the odd person out was Morgan, who didn’t have anyone close to her age and was more interested in teenager stuff. Talia was, of course, the youngest, and sometimes she felt overpowered by the others. The two boys were also protective of her as sort of a temporary or short-term “little sister.” It did help they were all new and exciting people from opposite sides of the country. Also helped as being summertime dispelled any of the cabin fever associated with feeling snowed in during the winter. While we adults do the best we’re able to do with all the many life’s challenges we navigate, sometimes one has to step back and let each young person find themselves.

Kate. Suspended in motion for a moment in time. Graceful. Her innate recklessness tempered by careful movements done quickly with intention, instinct, and confidence. She’s in her prime element her during this time in her life.

Surrender & Control.

Her expression is timeless. Says it all across the years.

Morgan & Talia chatting with Andrea as she shoves off in her lake kayak.

Kristina, what in the world are you doing? Gargling? Chanting? Enjoying the blissful warmth of the Summer Sun? Regardless of any one thing or another, the Unstoppable Kristina, Goddess of Manifestation (hey, lookit, this trip!) is in Rapture here atop a big rock on the edge of Crawford Pond.

“Oh, William, William, William.” She enchants me with that look of hers. We’ve already been thru a lot together.

Paddling and swimming back across the lake towards the Little Red Cottage.

The worn down and vegetated geography of Maine’s topography, shredded and gouged out by glaciers during the last Ice Age, intrigues with its latticework of lakes & ponds, rivers and streams, islands, peninsulas, bogs, rocky forests, and natural causeways.

Andrea is wonderful with the kids. She’s on guard, engaged, present, and laughs easily.

Crawford Pond and the lay of the land.

Kristina taking time out to enjoy a little much needed solitude (I’m not too far off in a kayak as she swims off towards the others).

Large, orb weaver spiders rule under the eves of the cottage.

While not completely certain, I’m pretty sure these spiders are Larinioides sclopetarius, the Bridge Orb Weaver Spider or the Gray-Cross Spider. They originated in Europe and have spread across much of the Northern Hemisphere.

While solitary animals, they build their nests close to each other. They also prefer to build on structures such as bridges and homes and prefer being close to water. More insects that way.

Andrea checks out the orb-weavers. While she values them keeping down the mosquitoes and other flies, she doesn’t want them getting too close to people’s clothes or to the doorway. No one really wants to face plant into chubby little spider and her sticky wicky web.

Morgan hangs with Andrea’s niece up visiting from Florida…or is she one of the neighbor’s daughters? I don’t recall, but I do remember the two of them hitting it off in the alpenglow of sunset.

Talia & the Kids

It’s On Golden Pond time.

Talia pulls a jolly Tater Tot face while Morgan deals with too much water up her nose.

Golden Crawford Pond

Moored canoe catches the edge of Maine alpenglow.

Lining up the boats below the Little Red Cottage.

The deck out into the pond from the shoreline just below the Little Red House. As I’ve sadly forgotten the names of Andrea’s sons, I wonder if any of the names carved here are their names.

Close neighbors or family members of Andrea and her sons’s? Don’t remember, but they brought over food to share for our picnic outside at the Little Red Cottage.

Sundown on Crawford Pond with the kids grouped up out in the lake with their floaties. 

Halcyon Days and Timeless Nights of a long ago Summer

“Let’s go hiking!” Kristina & I bustle off to Camden Hills State Park, and, eventually the Town & Harbor of Camden, Maine.

Fifteen year old Morgan was the only one of the kids to join us on our exploration. Andrea and the others stayed behind. Kate & Talia wanted to play poker with the boys & then go jump back in the lake.

Might attempt to scale that low mountain looming over the trees over there. We are in Camden Hills State Park, a local wilderness of forested hills around the town and harbor of Camden. Enough time has passed we’re unable to remember the names of the trails and local landmarks we explored. The maps & journals we had were lost in the subsequent 2010 house fire. So, did we hike up to Mt. Battie (780 ft. high)? Or did we make it atop the Maiden Cliffs at 800 feet? Or did we get to the summit of Mt. Megunticook (1,385 ft.)? Considering the amount of time we spent hiking, we clearly didn’t reach all three high points, nor do we recall seeing the giant white cross we read of later. Yes, I’m a bit of a geography nerd and a names of places geek, but none of us recall those names, and, yes, it’s OK. We had a great time anyway!

The trail beckons us deeper into Camden Hills, so off we go.

Morgan & Kristina, stepdaughter & stepmother. The day is hot and humid as they gaze down thru the trees at lakes below.

Love the mix of rocky hills, mixed forests, and scattered lakes & ponds here in Maine…& so close to the ocean, too!

Gazing out across Campden Hills. Not certain, but I think this is Megunticook Lake.

Kristina & Morgan

William & Kristina. Sometimes they make strange faces…!

William’s 50 years along in this time & place, and Kristina’s 41.

Everchanging body language and out of synch smiles as Morgan shoots these fotos along a trail in Camden Hills State Park.

It’s a beautiful day, these ol’ lovebirds move thru their own easy but sometimes challenging mating rituals, and truth is they’re both tired. They’ve been going going going while also in love with being in Maine.

Shared moments in time and space upon a hot, humid New England day. Pictures by Morgan.

The man all alone in nature, briefly.

Kristina gets behind the camera now as father & daughter step down onto the ledges.

Father & Daughter, 50 & 15 years along. Foto by Kristina.

The Big Picture

Everchanging faces…

Faces everchanging…

Faces tell stories…What are their stories here?

Upon the cliffs above Camden Town.

Kristina contemplates being hot & sweaty as she gazes across the gloriously expansive beauty of Camden Hills.

Prehistoric hot rocks.

My 15 year old daughter observing their eccentric Dad & Stepmom with, um, amusement.

William Dudley in his element.

Uh-Oh, what, what is this fool doing now?

Soaking up life, love, and UV radiation like an ol’ crazy parent!

It’s the wind. Aye, the wind blew off his cap, right off his silly head, right off into the grass where there’s ticks.

Kristina gets in on the action, too. Had to crop this picture quite a bit as sweaty, hot Kristina takes a wind bath in the breeze.

How bout dem rocks!?!

Kristina in Harbor Park standing before Camden Harbor.

Gaze of a Scorpio at her Taurus.

Camden Harbor, Maine.

Although more of a river man, especially whitewater, I love boats of all kinds and the sensation of moving thru water in various states of motion and stillness. As the Water Rat declared to the Mole in Kenneth Grahame’s 1908 classic, The Wind in the Willows, “Believe me, my young friend, there is nothing—absolute nothing—half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats.”

Kristina points to where she thinks we were at earlier that day, Mt. Battie. At first we’re certain. Fifteen years later, not so sure. And, it’s OK. We had a grand time exploring what some have called a “mini-Acadia” and now this “mini-Bar Harbor.”

Town of Camden below the Hills. The large building in the center is the Campden Public Library in Harbor Park.

Sea kayakers coming in from the bay. We don’t know them. Their tired fun and colorful gear upon the harbor waters caught our attention. In some ways, a snapshot in time of Earth Humans enjoying life in one part of early 21st Century America.

Summer colors of Camden Town.

Crab pots & petunias.

Although on opposite sides of the continent, much of Maine reminds us so much of Washington. Here Camden Harbor narrows before opening into Penobscot Bay.

Morgan (now Dylan) snaps a picture of this married couple having a little dockside squabble.

Do we look romantic yet?

Sunglasses on & clothes all twisty & bunchy, LOL!

Sunglasses off! With sweaty clothes still all bunchy & twisty!

William & Kristina, August 2009. Foto by Morgan.

Camden Harbor.

The Northerners who fought for the Union during the Civil War got it right: what the Southern states engaged in was rebellion, a great rebellion that nearly shattered the United States into weak fragments. As a Southerner who relocated to the Northwest, I grew up with the American Civil War being labeled the War of Northern Aggression, an erroneous label as the Southern states clearly started this war. Southern secessionists also called our most uncivil war  the War Between the States caused by Federal infringement on States Rights. Thing is, the only states right in question was the right of humans to own other humans as chattel slaves based upon obsolete, unscientific Euro-American White notions of race. Those who fought for or otherwise supported the Southern Confederacy were traitors to the United States of America and its constitutional democratic republic. Often forgotten are the facts many Southerners at the time opposed secession, many opposed slavery, and some even fought for the Union. Some in the North fought for the Confederacy as well. Those in the Border States fought each other as neighbors shot neighbors and set their homes and farms afire. The U.S. Civil War also rippled over into Native American tribes and into Black Americans themselves. It was a ferocious and bloody civil war, and these Northern troops fought on the right side of History. This statue stands in Harbor Park near the Camden Public Library.

Yes, these citizens of Maine fought on the right side of History.

The flowers of late Summer around the memorial to the men of Camden who died in the American Civil War.

A hornet’s nest of petals.

Made me smile, too, as I grew up on a working diary farm in rural Virginia. We’re also above the steep, narrow, late-summer, low-water cascades of the Megunticook River where it drops into Camden Harbor.

Looking out past Camden Harbor to Penobscot Bay in the Gulf of Maine, all part of the North Atlantic Ocean.

Camden Public Library and its gazebo, Harbor Park, Camden, Maine.

Morgan & I continue to take turns shooting fotos of flowers, leaves, & old buildings in Harbor Park.

Japanese beetles (Popillia japonica), an invasive species of scarabs originally from Japan, attacking roses in the park.

Ferocious skeletonization of rose shrubbery by these otherwise beautiful Japanese scarabs.

Life in Camden revolves around water, even if one lives up in the Hills.

William poses with a statue of the poet Edna St. Vincent Millay (1892-1950) in the park.

Edna St. Vincent Millay wrote her first poem of note while in Camden High School, winning an award there at age 15. She won numerous awards, especially after moving to New York, including the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry in 1923 and the Frost Medal for American Poetry in 1943.

She went from a rustic seaport in Maine to the wild life of a Bohemian bisexual in Greenwich Village to a quiet life of trauma, addiction, and passionate marriage in rural, small-town upstate New York.

Another local mystery…

The Golden Rooster…cannot lay any golden eggs.

Meanwhile the married couple of the familymoon are all pooped out here in Harbor Park.

More scenes from around Harbor Park in Camden Town.

Virginia Creeper (Parthenocissus quinquefolia) in Maine. The plant is native across Eastern & Central North America and ranges from Eastern Canada down into Guatemala. The plant is mildly toxic with sharp calcium oxide crystals in the sap. Doesn’t really bother me, tho I know people who are sensitive to it. Virginia Creeper is, however, nothing on the scale of far more toxic Poison Oak, Poison Ivy, and Poison Sumac. In Autumn the plant turns vivid shades of red, scarlet, & purple.

Views within and around Harbor Park.

Time to say goodbye to the Camden area including its town, its harbor, parks, streams, the bay, its welcoming people, and the mountainous old hills around the town. Back to the Little Red Cottage on Crawford Pond we go!

See Talia’s cute little face down in the lower left corner? We’ve stopped at the famous Penobscot Narrows Suspension Bridge and Observatory.

Taller than New York’s Statue of Liberty and designed to ride out severe storms both summer and winter, this is the highest public bridge observatory on Earth at this point in time. Elevators take people about 420 feet up. It’s our first stop on our journey to Acadia National Park, and while we wanted to go up into it, realized doing so would take too much time away from our primary destination. Another trip to Maine someday, perhaps.

Talia checking out her hand. Maybe there’s a long ago owie to grimace over. Or she’s fixated on a toy Medieval soldier in red hidden in her palm. A note on the color pink: At this time, pink was Talia’s favorite color. It was also her Mom’s least favorite color. The rest of us had fun with these contradictions.

The mighty Penobscot River pushes on thru late summer days to the ocean.

Penobscot Blue…

We’re all captivated by what appears to be a human-operated jetplane transecting the Sun as if our star is about to bifurcate. What a strange, intriguing site early this Wednesday morning in the skies above the Penobscot Narrows.

Something seems off, however, as the jet airplane doesn’t quite look like an airplane. So I begin to zoom in.

So what is this? The image is now severely cropped. Doesn’t look recognizable. Nor does it behave at all with any of the 5 Observables unique to Non-Human Intelligence UFOs/UAPs. It behaves like a jetplane more than anything else, but it looks like a broken up rocket. Hmnn. Weird, yes? Don’t recall the sound either. Directly north of us, however, is Bangor International Airport with neighboring Bangor Air National Guard Base. In-flight refueling with large tanker craft occurs out of Bangor ANG.

Further cropping makes whatever it is look like a roaring, broken wreck with rocket engines blasting at full throttle. Perhaps the jetplane is turned on an old angle to us down on the ground. Or maybe refueling is taking place. I bet it’s human aircraft out of Bangor. Sure looks strange, tho.

Mesmerized by clouds.

The high cables of the Penobscot Narrows Bridge remind me of a gigantic harp.

Time to wrap up here at the Penobscot Narrows and drive on further north and northeast to Acadia National Park.

In about 40 minutes we were on the edge of Mount Desert Island and numerous smaller islands and peninsulas. The largest portions of Acadia National Park lay within Mt. Desert Island.

Kate & Talia at a trailhead in Acadia National Park. The family behind them is up from New Jersey.

With rugged seashores, rocky cliffs, and wild ocean all around me, I find myself fascinated with flowers. Numerous species of goldenrods abound. These are a few sprouting on the side of the road in Maine near the trailhead.

Talia is enamored with this little red toy soldier, a Medieval knight wielding flail and shield in combat in some forgotten war fought centuries ago. That’s me. Don’t recall what Talia’s thoughts were or where she found the toy. Did it come from the Little Red Cottage? Belonged to Andrea’s sons? Gifted to her by one of the kids from New Jersey running around the parking lot at the trail head? Or was it left behind upon this rock and Talia chose to receive this fas a gift rom the Universe and claim it?

Kathryn & Talia. Kate’s arms & legs are covered with inflamed mosquito bites, and Talia holds the red and golden toy knight in her hands.

This.

Fighting solo with flail & shield in the palm of a 7 year old girl with an inquisitive imagination.

Goldenrod and staghorn sumac (Rhus typhina) at the trail head.

Fascinated by the sky, water, and vegetation of coastal Maine.

Old worn down mountains on Mt. Desert Isle. The Acadian Mountains here are part of the greater Appalachian range stretching from Northern Alabama up into the Canadian Maritimes. Acadia is where these old, rugged, prehistoric peaks run down into the Atlantic Ocean.

Staghorn sumac (Rhus typhina) is widespread here.

We headed on down into Seal Harbor.

Seal Harbor. The thin sliver of seashore left of center is Seal Harbor Beach. There are a number of inns, hotels, and museums in the town of Seal Harbor. Don’t know the name of the buildings perched above those rocky cliffs. The main Seal Harbor lays on the other side of the little peninsula before us.

Exploring the seashore around Seal Harbor.

Daddy William with Kate & Talia upon the cliffs around the various little inlets of Seal Harbor, Maine.

Morgan probably shot these images. She took many fotos here. Sometimes Kate, Talia, & Kristin did, too, but not as much as me or Morgan.

These little, fortress-like coves, some with shallow caves and narrow chutes, intrigued us with their danger, mystery, and ruggedness.

Morgan & I hang back a bit and take pictures as we follow Talia, Kate, & Kristina down to water’s edge.

Morgan at 15, Seal Harbor, Acadia National Park, Maine.

We discover a cave! And the aroma of rotting seaweed!

Love this place! We were in awe how similar the Maine coast was to our Washington’s…and yet so different.

A rocky tidal pool pit isolated among the cliffs. The odd-shaped brown stone in the water reminded us of a little whale.

Reminds us a little bit of a “holiday castle.”

The view from the outside of the sea cave others were in.

Inside the sea cave. Looking small is my then-wife and two of our daughters. Dylan decides not to go in as her golden sandals are getting trashed upon slimy beds of seaweed, jagged stone, and pools of salty ocean water. We’re all so impressed with this cave.

Morgan wears her golden sandals where none have likely trodden such footwear before.

Hmnnn…

Intrigued by tidal currents below the entrance to the cave.

Time to get outa here. Talia, however, is diligently focused upon some fascinating oddity up there in the cave.

Come on, guys! Deep down I’m proud of Talia’s calm, focused inquisitiveness. Each child has their own set of superpowers.

Now I’m the last one out as I shoot fotos of Kristina helping “TaTa” out as Kate & Morgan await. It’s slippery & stinky!

As everyone wanted to go swimming, I drove everyone further up the coastline of Mt. Desert Island passed a number of scenic sites and hiking trails to Acadia National Park’s famous Sand Beach. It’s small, often crowded, protected, and boasts a list of quirky geological and hydrological wonders. The historian and futurist in me wonders what ever happened to all of these individuals here, all unique human beings, all strangers, all here to explore and have fun. The melancholy part of my psyche understands some of these people aren’t even around any longer as I write these words some 15 years later, tho I’ll wager most of them probably still are. Hope they all enjoyed healthy, productive lives of more joy than sorrow. What do you reflect upon during quiet moments in the middle of joyous pandemonium? 

Hole digging in the soft, wet sand is quite popular with the little bitties. The high water table makes it safe to dig as one can’t make it too deep. So many fellow Earth Humans! Some even perch up high on the cliffs.

Usually am pretty shy taking fotos of strangers in public places, but feel somewhat liberated by the crowds. I’ve great respect for privacy, tho, to be clear, no respect whatsoever for secrecy. Such is life. Here I enjoy people watching as an ambivert with a camera.

Talia doesn’t waste a minute. After jumping into her swimsuit, she launches into an excavation.

Being a digging mammal is hard work!

Kate, Kristina, & Morgan stride out into the deep blue sea, Woo HOO!

YeOW it’s COLD, you guys! Well, it is the NORTH Atlantic off the coast of New England. Talia doesn’t even bother. She’s a Digger Girl!

Kate grins at life despite all her mosquito bites.

Others feel the refreshing chill as Kristina & Morgan chat further out in the water on upper picture right.

First held my breath as I watched people scramble up and down those cliffs, and no one fell. Not today. In fact the young woman in the center is going down in proper mountaineer fashion, knees bent and leaning slightly forward at the waste, practicing what we mountaineers call, “Keep yer nose over yer toes. Nose over toes.” Whether she just naturally figured it out or already learned it from climbing or skiing remains unknown, and that’s OK.

Talia and two other girls work together to dig this hole. She’s proud. Talia also told us later that those fellow little Digger Girls did not speak English or Spanish. She didn’t know what they spoke, and she didn’t ask. Nor did it matter. Sometimes body language and the camaraderie of teamwork breaks thru such sociocultural barriers.

This big stone block reminds me somewhat of the Great Pyramids of Giza. Look at all the fractures from the battering of the elements.

We went down the coast a short distance to another section of Acadia National Park to explore where the mountains come down into the sea to break apart. Don’t recall except close to Sand Beach. Perhaps twas Great Head or Otter Point. The roads ran in one-way loops circling off to reconnect with other local roadways.

Those guys! Strangers together.

Those guys again, enjoying being out on the edges of rock, water, & sky.

The coast of Acadia National Park and Maine in general is dotted with little islands, islets, and reefs. All those colored floats bobbing out there are tethered to the lobster pots they mark. 

Those guys again. Being their own little Kings of the Hill out at the point.

Scenes along the point and around the heads.

Clouds & Sky & the Sun & lots of syfy Lens Flare

These trolley bused many tourists around the Park to help reduce traffic congestion. Reminds me a little bit of the old trolley trains back in Seattle.

Studying the different layers of botanical life on our walk back up to the car.

The ground is alive. Earth’s biosphere extends deep into the soil and far down in the crust, too.

Here we pause to check out the views from higher up, and I jump into, “Hey, let me shoot a few pictures of y’all, y’all!” L2R: Kate, Kristina, Morgan, & Talia.

Sea kayakers cruise by the cliffs below.

Morgan & Talia, two sisters who grew up together & yet 8 years apart in age.

All of my kids went thru sticking-out-tongues phases, LOL

And all sisterly smiles sometimes, too!

Morgan must’ve snapped this foto of Talia & Kate as I’m “cut off” in the edge of the picture.

Talia

Five-hand pentagram stars from our blended family of five.

All five of us making our family pentagram star here.

Talia & Kristina

Kate

Kate & Talia

DaDa posing for the camera, LOL

Whoa, Godzilla!

Blinded by sunshine…

As the camera came back to me, Kate & Morgan engage is sisterly fun.

Funny Faces!

After leaving the seashore cliffs, we stopped along the shores of an old mountain lake.

Forests of Acadia in mid-afternoon.

We drove up to one of the scenic mountain tops within the park overlooking water, islands, towns, and sky.

Don’t recall the name of this mountain. Studying a map 15 years after the journey leaves me wondering which one of many peaks we explored the summit of. It’s not Cadillac Mountain, tho. I do wonder whatever happened to all of the individual people here ,and what lives they lived. The joy of so much life also evokes a strange sort of melancholic awe.

William & Kristina. Sometimes love is like life; it finds a way, even if the way love looks changes day to day regardless of desires and expectations.

We continue to explore the top of the world from here.

Our family marveled at the surround views. We  found the mix of islands and mountains and seashore cliffs and lakes similar to the State of Washington and the Province of British Columbia, especially in the Gulf and San Juan Islands in the Salish Sea.

Noticed Kate’s hair in the mid-afternoon sunshine.

Kate, age 10 and a half.

We began to head back to Andrea’s car. Been going since early, early in the morning. We were hungry and tired of snacks. Looked forward to delicious meals down in the resort seaside town of Bar Harbor.

Down in Bar Harbor, Maine, a beautiful little city surrounded by Acadia National Park.

Have been fascinated by sailing ships ever since a boy, and haven’t spent enough time on them. Amazing what humans did with sailing vessels for centuries.

Kate & Talia walk under and around the statue of the whale.

I think we ended up eating at this restaurant on the docks.

More scenes around Bar Harbor dockside…

Alpenglow Kate

What surprises me is someone took this foto. Wasn’t me as I’m the one sitting across from the picture-taker. We had luscious lobster & crab seafood dinner, except for Talia as she is severely allergic to shellfish as well as all invertebrates as far as we know. Twas a yummilicious mess! And no one took any pictures of any of those meals. Must’ve been a bit too hungry, eh?

Kate making crustacean faces!

Talia, our Li’l Dancing Butterfly, playing around as if performing in The Little Mermaid.

INSERT BLACK CHAIN KEY – FILL DON’T SPILL, or it’s Robbie the Robot incognito in Maine.

Wandering around the docks of Bar Harbor, and also preparing to head back to Andrea’s Little Red Cottage.

Time to say goodbye to Bar Harbor and hit the road. One of my kids took this foto as I’m the driver. Tired, sleepy, perhaps even a little hallucinatory?

Our drive back was a blur of lights in the darkness. We stopped briefly at the Penobscot Narrows to stretch our legs and play with the camera.

The Penobscot Narrows Bridge and Observatory is an impressive sight even for tired eyes at night. This innovative engineering marvel stretches across one of Maine’s mightiest rivers for 646+ meters or 2,120 feet. It’s tallest point is 136 meters or 447 feet high, and it opened near the end of December 2006, about 2 and a half years before our visit to Maine.

Living the Edge!

Usually love seeing the flag of our Union, the USA. People who know me are often surprised by my patriotism, especially as I advocate human interdependence and a united democratic world republic. Yes, I do love my country. It is because of this I am not a nationalist and am all too aware of America’s history of invasion, conquest, slavery, genocide, corporacratic predatory capitalism, environmental destruction, the ongoing coverup of UFOs & NHIs, and an out-of-site-out-of-mind prison system rank with rampant abuse. My love of country engenders my love of our Planet Earth and of our Solarian Star System. My love of country empowers me to harshly criticize unethical and criminal actions done by those in power and by those out of power who don’t care. We must balance our individual liberties with our social responsibilities in a never-ending dance, and as long as we can dance and debate without violence, we’ll be OK. We’ll be better than OK.

Off we go across this big bridge.

Inside looking out.

Out on the other side.

We 5 familymooners piled into Andrea’s car with her, her 2 sons, and her sister, left Crawford Pond, and rolled into Port Clyde sometime between 6:00 and 6:30 in the morning. Another long day of travel and adventure begins!

Ferry reservations for the 1.5 to 2 hour crossing are required. Walk-ons only. We’re already aboard and motoring out around the bend. Looks like a mansion hidden up in the trees and thus protected from the storms.

What’s it like to live here on the coast of Downeast Maine?

Passenger Ferry’s coming around to sail on out of the harbor and out to sea.

Kate’s calmly excited! The woman in pink later smiled in amusement at my middle child’s antics.

Monhegan Island lays 10 miles out in the Atlantic from Port Clyde, its closest port.

A casual scene in America in August 2009. What do you notice? Few people are staring at smartfones. They’re there, but smartfones haven’t yet dominated the human technosphere. Here our fellow humans are mostly engaged in conversations with one another and gazing out across the sea at all the incredible scenery.

Smartfones and their resulting technoeuphoria were, however, already on the way. Here Andrea is on her flipfone (remember flipfones?), and Kristina’s staring at her smartfone. I don’t recall what brand & model it was. Texting was beginning to take off, and cellfones had real buttons to tap and push.

“Hey, William…” my wife at this time is telling me something as I take her picture. I listened to her, but don’t recall what we spoke about.

Smiles!

These two friends have come a long ways in a short time since first meeting amid giant redwoods and sequoias in Northern California.

Sailing closer and closer to Monhegan Island…

…and still so far away.

Speaking and Listening

We approach Monhegan Island and the rocks and small islands around the harbor of Monhegan Town. They had names such as Manana Island, Smutty Nose, and the Inner and Outer Duck Rocks. The U.S. Coast Guard had a station on Manana across the small harbor from the main town.

Our ferry pulled in closer and closer…

Manana Island.

Soon we dock at Monhegan.

We all fell in love with Monhegan immediately; the harbor, the town, and its island. The combination of natural beauty, remoteness, and isolation enchanted us. Monhegan’s New England island culture charmed us as well, especially with its blend of arts and crafts, construction, the tourist industry, and anchored by fishermen and lobstermen. Numerous artists from a variety of disciplines came here to get away and focus on their creative projects.

We rambled around the town, and deep down we were … hungry! LOL

Kids found the tree! Apparently it’s a locally famous tree.

Andrea’s sister and aunt to the boys enjoying using the camera on her cellfone.

After lunch we march off to hike out of town thru the forest towards the eastern seashore cliffs. It’s a short hike.

Bit of a drop off here.

White Head? or Black Head? Don’t recall even after perusing a map. We’re looking north, tho. We can see people clambering about atop the head way over there, too.

Kristina & Andrea

Hamming it up for the cameras and being silly, LOL

The trail along the cliffs led up with this little scramble up a broken chimney of sorts, and the kids loved it! Andrea’s sister’s already up top with another daytripper.

We were still pretty close to the edge of the cliffs, too.

Mesmerized by the vastness of the ocean and the sky of our planet as I stood on a little island in the sea.

The kids wanted my attention back from the edge of the cliff. Katie wanted to pose for me as she likes to climb.

Katie Cakes at play.

After two days of traveling with a hurricane in the middle, we Familymooners finally arrive back home to our Yellow Dragonfly House in Seattle, Washington.

Kristina jumps back into building her organizational development and coaching business. Late August 2009.

Talia warms herself in front of the heat vent at home during one morning in early November 2009.

Kate (now Kathryn)  punches thru to take the ball away. She captures the ball, boots it away, and soon her team scores. Eventually Kate & her team win their soccer game. Green Lake Park, Seattle.

Morgan (now Dylan) doing something with a broken mermaid holiday ornament. Yellow Dragonfly House in the SouZoo/Upper Fremont area of Seattle. Mid-September 2009.

William Dudley relaxes at Yellow Dragonfly House after working a long stretch at the Downtown Seattle REI store, mid-November 2009. Unfortunately we would move out shortly before that Christmas as the Great Recession ground on and on. Then the house we moved into burned down in March of the following year, and the next house was caught in the edge of a large natural gas explosion a year later. Life goes on, however, for us the living.

“Home” developed new and different meanings for us, and we were glad to be back in the Great Pacific Northwest regardless.

The Nikon D40 these pictures were salvaged from. Found my camera digging thru the rubbish of the burned ruins. Cracked it open to retrieve the memory card.

Found my camera by happenstance on Saturday 17 July 2010, nearly 4 months after our home burned down on Saturday 20 March 2010. Took the memory card into Glazer’s Cameras in Seattle where the generous staff recovered the missing fotos for us.