Time to Party for Spring

Before the inundation of tourists, the sand reveals only tideprints.

Waves break under bluebird skies.

Coastal estuaries cycle through mudflat and flood,

rocking clammer boats in empty currents.

Clouds whisk across the sky, 

bringing more rain but also brilliant greens.

In my garden, bumblebees hum over wild violets,

While chartreuse shoots tickle desiccated leaves...

And beer cans are tossed 

from the dorms next door.

Hiking Morse Mountain, Maine in Spring Snow

Over "spring" break, three weeks ago, my intrepid son joined me for a hike up Morse Mountain.

In Maine spring doesn't really kick in until May, but at least the snow is melting in mud season.

The trail starts by a saltwater marsh before climbing into the woods. We hiked with 

ice-stabilizers strapped to our boots, but snowshoes would have been better.

The mountain is really a hill, but it offers a spectacular view of the marsh and ocean. You can click on my Morse Mountain label below to see this view in other seasons. Over the last three weeks the snow has melted to patches. We were in the 60's these past few days! I shall spare you the photos of mud.

October Favorites in Maine

Reading in my hammock, under a canopy of gold,

Wearing flannel shirts without jackets,

Picking apples with my daughter,

Biking on country roads,

Shopping at the farmers' market,

Brilliant maples at Bowdoin College 
(my husband's lecture hall)

Painting en plein air at Lookout Point,

Bird watching on Seawall Beach

Hiking safely at Morse Mountain (before deer hunting season)

Happy Halloween!

A First Thanksgiving

Salt marsh at Reid State Park in early October

This year my son's high school girlfriend and her family are joining us for Thanksgiving, their first! They immigrated to the USA from South Sudan fifteen years ago, fleeing civil war. Hanukkah overlaps with Thanksgiving this year so we'll be celebrating both. There will be a menorah on the table and potato latkes along with local turkey. This is my son's first time back from Middlebury College. Other years we've joined my family in New York City for Thanksgiving, but this year the kids wanted to come home.

Chewonki campus last weekend

My daughter has also been away at Chewonki Semester School, a one term farm/environmental school for high school juniors. The campus is on a remote peninsula in coastal Maine with cabins heated by wood stoves. She's been having a blast milking cows, doing field biology, clamming at Reid State Park and making life long friends. She'll be back to her regular high school in January.

Moonrise at sunset from Popham Beach in mid November

This was our first, albeit temporary, experience as empty nesters. As much as Henry and I have missed the kids, we've enjoyed our free time. We hiked up mountains, walked on the beach and ate out on a whim. I caught up on years of lost sleep, and work time was extra productive. Mild weather in September and October was perfect for painting en plein air.

My Seawall Beach watercolor, sold to a client in Boston for her sister in Korea

When the weather got too chilly to work outside, I turned my attention to a new young adult novel, set in coastal Maine. After a slow start, I've written over 25K words. I'm using Scrivener novel writing software for the first time and loving it, although there was a learning curve. Also, I find first drafts harder work than revision, but I'm really enjoying these characters and the local setting. I'm especially grateful for the guidance from my new literary agent, Laura Geringer at Shannon Associates.

Scout enjoying our first snowfall last Sunday.  Copyright © 2013 Sarah Laurence

November is the season to read by the fire. I'm at work on a best books of 2013 post. I've enjoyed reading your blogs too. Happy Thanksgiving and Hanukkah!

Minus Four to Plus Four

Frozen puddle at Morse Mountain by Sarah Laurence © 2013

Brrr! It's cold even by Maine standards. Check out the thermometer at sunrise. When we awoke it was minus four; that's Fahrenheit not Celsius.  Scout stuck only her head out the dog flap and then went back to bed. My intrepid husband walked her once it had warmed to zero.

Our kids bundled up in down coats, still grumbling about yesterday's aborted snow day. Arctic winds had blown the blizzard out to sea, just missing the coast. Schools were full of dozing students with incomplete homework. A teacher chided them, "Poor you, you didn't get a snow day because there is NO SNOW!" That woke a few.

We need a snow day desperately. Mother Nature gave us nearly two feet of white powder over December break, but all that is left is crusty tracks and slick ice. The midday skies are the intense, unfiltered blue of single digit weather. It is, at least, good writing weather. Tonight I shall read The Snow Child by the fire. Keep warm and do a snow dance!

P.S. thank you so much for your kind comments on my 6 Year Blog Anniversary post!

Up Morse Mountain to Seawall Beach, directions included

After all the rain we've been having, I'm posting some sunshine from early May.

Morse Mt. is more of a hill than a mountain. Our part of Maine is very flat. On a clear day, you can see all the way to Mt. Washington in New Hampshire. At first glance, the snow capped peaks appear to be clouds. Mt. Washington may be the tallest mountain in Northeastern USA, but it doesn't have a beach.

Seawall Beach is usually near empty because to access it, you have to climb two miles up and down Morse each way. It's an easy hike on a dirt road through wild woodlands and marshes. In late spring through summer the trail is very buggy.

This undeveloped oceanside beach stretches for a mile. At low tide you can wade to Popham Beach and walk another 3 miles on soft sand. May is a bit cold for swimming in the Atlantic Ocean, even on a sunny day.

I'm soaking up the cyber rays. This is the wettest spring that I can remember. At least all the rain makes it easier to work on a novel set in England. Cheers!

Directions to Morse Mountain and Seawall Beach in Phippsburg, Maine:
Take Rt. 1 North
At Bath, Exit High Street/Rt. 209
Right onto 209 toward Phippburg for 11.2 miles
Continue Straight onto ME 216/Small Point Road (drive past the Popham Beach turn off)
After 0.8 miles on Rt. 216, take a Left onto Morse Rd
Parking lot is on the left (no dogs or bikes allowed)
The trail is the old road and clearly marked
Hike 2 miles to Seawall Beach
Bring insect repellant in summer!

Morse Mountain in May

Spring paints vibrant color on a dull canvas.

Sky water draws faces on the marsh.

May light shines on pines, clinging to cliffs.

Bare branches grab the clouds,

While Lady Slippers dance in the woods,

And wildflowers flourish below.

Ferns wave goodbye to winter’s darkness.


Morse Mountain in:
 winter
autumn
late summer

Morse Mountain on Ice

In between storms, I returned to Maine’s Morse Mountain. Winter skies reveal broad vistas.

Spot the snow-clad peak of Mt. Washington in New Hampshire 100 miles away, away, away….

The sea swallowed snow before winter froze the tide.

The icy path is treacherous. Surreal.

The sun dares not climb too high in the sky.

Seawall Beach is wiped bare.

Only the islands can stand the frigid sea.

Lobster season is over, except far offshore.

Winter waves dribble forts.

Ice sculpts sand.

Happy Birthday, Mom!

Blog Watch: Author Justine Larbalestier gave excellent advice on "How to Conduct an Interview" on a blog.  A Cuban in London reviewed a witty book of poetry, More About the Song by blogger Rachel Fox.  Congratulations to debut author Marie Mutsuki Mockett on the birth of her first child! Troutbirder has a new grandchild.  Elizabeth Wix also has a special new addition to her extended family.  Elenka's husband is back home and doing well after heart surgery.  This already looks to be a most happy new year.

Morse Mountain to Seawall Beach

Nature is an artist.

She sculpts with driftwood and paints with seasons.

Her canvas is Morse Mountain in Maine.

The trail is a dirt road,

Traversing the marsh,

Climbing to a summit overlooking the ocean.

 Nature draws a portrait with water. 

She mixes ochre on her palette and drops splashes of cadmium red. 

Pine trees transition to dune grass.  Smell the ocean.

Clouds are brushstrokes on the sky.  Feel the wind.

Waves weave an ocean blanket.  Hear the surf.

Wet sand abstracts the sky.  See infinity.

Driftwood is sculpture.  Touch it.

Seawall Beach is her masterpiece. 

I only leave my footprints on the sand,

My words upon a page,

And her images in memory.

Happy Birthday to my brother!