A Maine Christmas

Good tidings to you on this most blessed of days!

An ice storm hit New England, and many people here in Maine have been without power for more than 48 hours, including yours truly.

Even though the temperature plummeted into the single digits, the cold weather didn’t keep me from going outdoors with my camera.

Following are some winter scenes I photographed while out and about.

I hope you enjoy them as much as I enjoyed taking them.

Welcoming fence posts at home in Mount Vernon, Maine

 

Maine lobsterman ornament

A gigantic Adirondack chair



Yes, it's really that big.
The 9-year-old twins in this photo are my nieces.

  

Willow playing in the snow

Arboretum in Augusta, Maine



Simply beautiful

 “For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord.” – Luke 2:11

A Hallmark Channel Kind of Moment

Tonight, I experienced a Hallmark channel kind of moment as Mount Vernon residents gathered for the annual Christmas-tree lighting.

We began the evening by sipping hot chocolate and socializing at the community center built in the 1800s. School children sat down on the old-fashioned, pine-board floor and listened to a Christmas story. A short time later, everyone ventured outside to watch the lighting of the Christmas tree. When we went back inside, a real-bearded Santa was waiting.

I'm humbled to experience this holiday tradition for the very first time in New England.

This place is comfortable. Many townspeople have lived in this quaint village their entire life. And then there are newcomers like me making a new start here in Maine.

Yes, I am a very blessed woman indeed.

His Discerning Presence

My gaze sweeps across the hazy mountains in the distance. I've been told that mountain range is on the other side of the state line in New Hampshire. I’m here in this peaceful setting as a new workweek begins for everyone else but me.

The view this morning from my sister's deck in Mount Vernon, Maine

My sister returned to her job this morning after recuperating from a recent surgery. One of my nieces walked down the long driveway to catch the school bus. The other one is asleep upstairs, a migraine keeping her home.

Today is the first opportunity I’ve had to rest in the Lord’s presence since arriving here a week ago from Dallas. I didn’t want to exchange that concrete jungle for this quiet countryside, yet the tranquility here has quickly consumed my soul.

Relaxing in the crisp morning air, I wonder what my next step is.

Humming birds fluttering nearby remind me of a story I wrote a few months ago while hunting for a job in Dallas. In my angst to find work back then, I encountered some feathered friends that turned out to be a sign from above. An assurance that God had my back. That He had a plan for my future.

Little did I know that several months later, I’d be looking at this same vista that captivated me during my last two visits here. To this place called Maine. A place that holds my immediate future.

I wonder if I’m to write to my heart’s content for the time being. Or if I’m to take everything I learned during my job search this past year to find employment in nearby Augusta. Or maybe I’m to start a jobseekers network in the area. Perhaps I’m to use my life experiences to encourage others in some sort of ministry. Or could it be that I’m to help young, aspiring writers just as my mentor in Texas helped me?

With all these unanswered questions, the one thing I do know is that I’m here for a specific purpose. A purpose not yet apparent.

Although at the moment I’m concerned about employment, a biblical verse calms me from just going after any old job. Matthew 11:29 says, “Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me… and you will find rest for your souls.” That's the kind of rest I need in order to discern the path I am to take.

Lord, show me what I'm supposed to do. Lead me down the road that is Your will and not mine. Open the doors I am to walk through and shut the ones not meant for me.

“… See, I have set before you an open door, and no one can shut it…” Revelation 3:8

Moose No Longer Incognito

Moose are synonymous to Maine as longhorns are to Texas. And like most visitors from the south, I anticipated seeing one on my first trip to the “Pine Tree State.”



Photo taken August 25, 2012 in New Hampshire

A visit to Mount Vernon, Maine, turned into an amazing five-week adventure as I took on the role of nanny to my twin nieces in 2011. After arriving on a rainy weekend in mid May, I awoke the next morning to a pristine view of Belgrade Stream flowing past my sister’s rental property. Adapting the mindset of being on an extended vacation, I waited patiently for a moose to meander by

 

Although the rain continued that Sunday, my sister took me to see Maine’s infamous Bar Harbor. During the drive, we spotted scorched blueberry barrens. My brother-in-law, a native Mainer, told me the barrens are burned intentionally to ensure a plentiful harvest. Hopefully the fires didn’t scare the moose into hiding.

Within my first few days in Mount Vernon, I was surprised to see two deer amble across my sister’s backyard. Hopefully a moose would mosey on by, too. However, I pondered if the honking geese in the cove nearby kept them away.

The geese grew quiet and the rain finally stopped the following week. However, pollen blanketed every square inch of the outdoors. The fine yellow dust, coupled with my severe head cold, kept me inside. I wondered where moose go to escape such outdoor elements.

 

I finally encountered one of the antlered beasts while sightseeing near the southern coast of Maine. Did I mention it was of the chocolate variety? Yes, that’s right. Not the pudding-kind of mousse, but a life-size moose carved out of chocolate at Len Libby’s candy store in Scarborough.

Memorial Day provided a three-day weekend to explore Canada’s Campobello Island. Before crossing the Canadian border, we stopped at a welcome sign touting Lubec, Maine, as the easternmost town in the United States. Wouldn’t it be something if moose roam that far east of their stomping grounds?

The scenic views of lobster boats rolling on the sea and ribbons of fog lacing through piney bluffs on the island were breathtaking and serene. I thought surely moose would enjoy the island way of life, but doubted they’d swim over from the mainland.

A couple weeks into my visit I still had not seen a moose, but scored big regarding the wildlife scene. Wild turkeys strutting across a country road caught my attention. As I inched my car through the bewildered birds, they skedaddled in all directions with wings flapping and neck wattles waggling. Their gobbles faded into the background as I eyed the disheveled flock in my rearview mirror. Adding to my wildlife encounters was the annual turtle migration taking place all over the state. One morning I discovered a large turtle digging a pit in my sister’s gravel driveway to lay eggs. Come to think of it, watching a moose giving birth on the driveway would have been a welcome surprise, too.

Shortly thereafter, my sister, nieces and I went on a whale-watching tour out of Boothbay Harbor. Two hours into the boat ride a whale breached, eliciting oohs and aahs from everyone on board. A moose frolicking on any of the islands we passed could have sent me into another frenzy of oohs and aahs as well.

 

A glimpse of the evasive creature would have made a sweet ending to my last full day in Maine as my nieces and I pedaled bikes around Portland’s Back Cove. However, such a sighting would not happen on this trip. Another 14 months would pass before I would actually see a real, live moose.

The picture posted at the beginning of this blog entry was taken this past Saturday. While visiting my sister for a third time in Maine, we decided to take a scenic drive through New Hampshire. She had just passed the entrance to the Wildcat Mountain Ski Resort on Route 16. As she rounded a bend in the highway, we came upon cars stopped in the middle of the road. A female moose trotted across the highway. Before I could focus my camera, the critter disappeared down an embankment and into the dense foliage. With the exception of a married couple in an SUV and us, all the other motorists drove away. As I ran across Route 16 toward the place where the moose was last seen, the SUV owner was rushing to the same point. We noticed a dirt road through the trees. He deduced that we could probably gain access by driving back to the ski resort. That is how we came upon the same moose munching on vegetation.

 

We were less than 15 miles from the Maine border when we spotted that moose in New Hampshire. On my sister’s bucket list was a desire to see a moose roaming free in Maine. Fifteen miles is not worth balking over in order for her to check that item off her list. I’m just happy I was privy to the event.

 

Maybe one day she’ll be a participant in an item I want to cross off my  bucket list—a hot-air balloon ride.

A Marley Look-a-like

I prop my feet on the chair while taking in the scenery from my sister’s deck in Mount Vernon, Maine. A mug filled with hot coffee warms my palms in the cool morning air. A window box on the balcony rail overflows with impatiens, adding a splash of color against the evergreens in the distance and the mountains beyond. The view is breathtaking and peaceful.

Willow

Underneath my outstretched legs my sister’s Labrador Retriever is lying very still. The only times I’ve seen her relaxed during daylight hours is when she's asleep after playing hard. At this moment she is not sleeping. She’s just still.

Just as quickly as I make that assessment, her eye catches a wire dangling between my laptop and the electrical outlet on the wall behind me. From a puppy’s point of view, it’s just another chew toy, so I remove the cord from her mouth. She’s lying down again, but can a Labrador puppy ever really be calm? Now she’s gnawing on a bone, distracted.

My sister named her Willow due to the abundance of weeping willows here in Maine. I’ve always considered a weeping willow a graceful-looking tree. This pup is anything but graceful. With her chocolaty-brown eyes, she is a Marley-look-a-like from the 2008 movie entitled Marley & Me. In the 2005 bestselling book with the same title, Marley’s owner must’ve been writing about Willow even though she wasn’t born yet. He experienced firsthand how her breed can be a bit out of control at times.

At only four and a half months old, the top of her head is even with the top of my knee caps. One knee cap, along with my shins, took quite a beating this morning as Willow greeted me, her tail whacking like a baseball bat. However, there is nothing like the overwhelming love when coming face-to-snout with a cute and loyal puppy no matter what size it is. After all, isn’t that why dogs are called man’s best friend?

This furry mass of never-ending energy greets with her whole body, literally. Her head, middle, and hindquarters wiggle and shake in different directions simultaneously while her tail whirls like helicopter blades. Dancing this jig, she crisscrosses one oversize paw in front of the other while walking toward you. Sometimes she just bowls right over you.

My 7-year-old niece, Amber, makes her way to the deck and sits in a chair two feet from me. Her entrance sends Willow into another frenzy of wiggles. The floppy-ear canine paces to and fro between us, her tail thumping against our legs. A computer wire somehow gets wrapped around her neck. After I unwind the cord, she spots a chew rope on the deck. Attached at the end of it is a four-inch toy tire made of hard rubber.  Willow retrieves it and swings the rope from side to side, bashing the tire against my legs. I’m sure the bruises will be gone by the time I head back home in five days.

Willow standing behind pint-size Buddy





My sister’s two Shih Tzu dogs have adjusted somewhat to Willow’s arrival. There has never been a dull moment in this house with these two canines, but now there is more... um, adventure with Willow around. I’m told the older Shih Tzu made it known at the get-go that she would not partake in any roughhousing. Hence, Buddy, the 2-year-old Shih Tzu, had no problem stepping up to the challenge. Thinking he’s as big as the Labrador, this diminutive male instigates a lot of the mayhem involving Willow. He has a habit of running under the kitchen table as the overgrown pup follows in hot pursuit, barreling through chair legs and unsettling anything in her path. I hate to use a cliché, but Willow is the ultimate bull in a china closet. At times, I think Buddy stirs up a ruckus on purpose just to get her in trouble.

I don’t know if Willow will ever learn any refined doggie manners such as not inhaling the whole bowl of water when she gulps. However, her companionship and exuberance will be cherished by my nieces for years to come.

In the meantime, her never-ending shenanigans will leave her humans scratching their heads, wondering what’s coming next.