Time for spring clothes
Though weather maps look like Easter eggs this week, with colorful bands of cool greens on the northern tier, milder yellows in the interior and dark coral stretched across the southland, we have had stretches of sunshine that allow the grass to start to grow and the pastel buds of spring foliage to emerge on the maple trees.
As the calendar flips toward opening we understand how a forced branch of forsythia or japonica must feel – our feet in water (if not pressed to the fire!) and a circle of expectant faces waiting for the blossoms. Each day another guestroom opens to some fresh air. The check list moves from construction to touch-ups. And Chef provides tastings that may or may not make it to the final menu.
Happily, everything gives us the opportunity to enjoy spring on the mid-coast. The pastel marine palette we use throughout the inn is reflected in the sky. The menu samples new lettuces, ramps and shellfish. Gathered in our seasonal “kitchen basket” from local sources, these delicious and beautiful foodstuffs seem the result of sorcery, as if conjured from down-east soil. (When we visit the farms, we have to agree with Margaret Atwood that at the end of a spring day we should all “smell like dirt.”)
“Spring clothes” mean the boat cover comes off, the curtains fluff at the windows and the signal flags return to the ceiling of the lightened and brightened Bogies. Now all we need are khakis and polo shirts. Let the storm coats be gone! Spring is on its way.
- The concept of earned value
- Return of the spring. You come, too.
- Aprils and Openers
- Standing limber and spruce with a backdrop of the entrance to Boothbay Harbor
- Green days and patience
- Lifelong learning outside the book on the Midcoast
- The February Sound of Silence
- Adding up the elements of experience
- Boothbay Harbor Nation
- The spruce ‘forest primeval’ and the Ghosts of Christmas present