A love letter to Boothbay Harbor
Long ago and far away from here we realized we had fallen in love with Boothbay Harbor. From the vantage point of another place we found ourselves longing for the peace and quiet of a coastal Maine morning. Mist rising with the sun as if throwing off the covers to get on with another day.
We wake up every morning here in Boothbay like that. Coffee in hand we stand on the front porch and look out at Burnt Island Light. We drive to town for the papers (and the gossip), which means a stop at Mama D’s. Summer or winter, the keepers of galleries and shops wave as we pass. The guys on the lobster wharf haul their traps; the pickups in the parking lot lined nose to tail – a clear sign that everybody’s on the boat today and will all be leaving at the same time so there’s no need for taking up any extra space.
Up on the hill, The Opera House turns its face to the winter sun, waiting for the buzz of the audience at the next show. In backrooms and offices – like ours at Spruce Point Inn — we’re all making plans for summer and hoping (like a nervous date) that they meet with the approval of those on whom so much depends.
We share Boothbay Harbor, its clear ocean air, its deep spruce forests, steep granite hills and sheltering harbors, with our neighbors and with those we call with endearment “from away.” We are fiercely protective of our unique and authentic corner of the planet, and passionately anxious to show it off, to let visitors in on the secrets to enjoying the place we call home.
And as every Yankee who watches the western horizon at this time of year, we see the days getting longer and the time we’re apart getting shorter before we’ll be welcoming back the regulars and the discoverers-for-the-first-time.
For February, for Valentine’s Day, consider this a love letter. And come back soon.