Nothing Marginal About It

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A couple of weeks ago we were in Maine and took a walk along one of the prettiest shorelines that I have ever seen.  I’m quite used to walking along the West Coast but I found the East Coast walk simply charming.

We couldn’t have asked for a better day to take the paved one mile walk (The Marginal Way) from Ogunquit to Perkins Cove.  I don’t think these photos do it justice but I wanted to share them anyway.  Should you ever travel to Maine, you really must look this place up and take the walk.  I finished our walk wishing that the path was twice as long.  I suppose we could have walked it twice but why spoil a splendid moment?  Is there any place that you would like to return to?  I am very sure that I will return to The Marginal Way with the hope that I can spend a lot more time, next time I am there.

Gone But Not Forgotten

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A few years ago I traveled to Stony Creek Connecticut with the hope that I would view the old granite quarry lily pond that my grandmother had hoped to see one last time when she made her final journey to her hometown.  She did not take photos of it, so I must presume, given the time of year, that she was not lucky enough to stop and marvel in its beauty once again. 

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Saw Mill Granite Lily Pond

I had envisioned that the entire pond would be filled with water lilies.  There were many, but not as many as my imagination had conjured up.  There were thousands of lily pads that appeared to be a delicious meal for some sort of hungry bug.

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Single Lilies with Thousands of Pads

The surrounding buildings are as beautiful as the lilies are on the pond.

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Pond Reflection on Stained Glass

A couple of years ago we went to stay at an old inn at the end of Linden Point Rd.  I wrote a poem about the place and it is on page 65 in my new book “In Memory Of…”  Little did I know how true the poem would become.  I will share just a bit of it below this next photo.  You can see to the left that the inn is no longer there.  The people across this inlet bought the property and tore down the old house/inn.  They wanted a less obstructed view.  They took the two pine trees down as well but left the granite stone that had been used by the indians to grind grain.  (It’s all in the poem.)

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Once There Was An Inn & Then There Was None

This place where I am sitting

Comes to fill me with delight

I know some day it will vanish

Erased from memory, and from sight

Is there a place that you remember that may have vanished from this earth?  Do you wish that you could view it one last time?  Maybe it’s a good time to go and discover if your memories still exist in that place.