The 52nd Annual Windjammer Days slip into history, leaving traces of the schooner American Eagle, Alert, Eastwind, Lazy Jack, the Lewis R. French, Heritage and Winfield Lash in their wakes. Technically, windjammers are “large sailing ships with an iron or, for the most part, steel hull with between three and five masts and square sails.” Named “windjammers” for their massive sails that seemed to jam the wind but actually propelled them across the globe in early feats of shipbuilding skills and seamanship, these beautiful birds now carry the memories of those voyages. It is that history that Yankee Magazine celebrates by naming Windjammer Days one of the top 20 events in Maine and why the event makes the “Top 100 in the US’ list. For so much of the nation was built on her sails.
Daisy Buchanan, in F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby, said she always looked forward to the Summer Solstice – and then invariably missed it. Like everything else, even the motions of the heavens rushed by her too quickly.
Along with the lilacs and autumn-olive that fill the air with perfume and form a flowery fringe between sea and sky, we’ve noticed the small white blossoms of wild strawberries on the edges of the fields. Just a handful, scattered in among the bluets and sweet-smelling white violets, they are the advance team for the summer yet to come.
As we were preparing Brightline, our 25-foot Old Port Launch, for another season on the water, we went back to the Wind in the Willows to get the quotation exactly right. And were reminded that it was Ratty who observed that “there’s nothing half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats.” And it was to young Mole, who had never stepped foot on any boat, he said it.
Memorial Day is Monday and with it comes a rush of impressions, especially because the holiday is the starting bell for our season every year here at Spruce Point.
Memorial Day began after the Civil War, as a way to unify the country by remembering those on both sides who gave their lives in defense of their principles. Created by women who – if you remember the line from “Gone With the Wind” – wanted to “beautify the graves of our glorious dead.
We talk a lot here about the responsibility we feel for sustaining our environment. Whether it’s removing weeds with salt water or creating our “lobster buoy” signal guests hang on the doorknob to let housekeeping know they’re all set with linens for the day (thus reducing water use, laundry impacts and overuse of resources), we take our stewardship of Spruce Point seriously by actively engaging in green practices.
Mother’s Day approaches, bringing to mind all those Spring days around the brunch table, birds chorusing outside, tulips and flowering branches bobbing in the breeze. It was hard to tell indoors from out, in a dining room filled with pastel wrappings, bouquets of lilac or forsythia (depending on the whims of sunshine) and a menu of fluffy omelette and croissants, or my mother’s favorite: waffles and a new batch of maple syrup. The conversation bubbled with the wine and everyone was smiling.
Checking in on the Boothbay Register timelapse webcam of the 2014 Fishermen’s Festival in Boothbay last weekend, we were captivated by a webcam that caught the 2013 blizzard. (Yes, we know, it’s nearly May – but the Atlantic Coast is holding onto winter, as if it’s saving the best weather for your summer stay!). In the span of the 48-hour storm, the webcam captures hardy souls venturing in and out of Brown’s Wharf, the pickup trucks, the evidence of plows and a sidewalk snow-shoveler as regular as a metronome. But what’s more fascinating is the way the ‘invisible’ sweep of the wind is made visible. While everything else covers up after the plow has passed, one intersection stays gray and as a line of white is pushed out of the way by the wind.
Wondrous strange. That’s the title of a Farnsworth Museum of Art book on the Wyeth family of painters. Starting with illustrator NC, and following on through Andrew and his son Jamie, the Wyeths have put images of Maine in people’s heads for a century. It’s the wondrous light. The Yankee forbearance. The translation of the living ethic, “use it up, wear it out, make it do or do without” into images of dories and pastures and spruces against the sky that also characterize the people in this sometimes hard place at land’s edge.