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Days of futures past

In North to the Orient, Anne Morrow Lindbergh talks about the day she and her husband Charles stopped in North Haven (an island village twelve miles off the coast from here) before heading on the first Great Circle flight across Canada to Japan. She describes the first returning glimpse of the schooner in Rockland Harbor, the new view of how one familiar road becomes another behind the golf course and of the little white farmhouse where her family had spent so many summers.

In the rooms she greets each object – the Toby jug on the mantelpiece, the Audubon prints on the wall, and the view to sea out the window.

We were in mind of how returning guests to Spruce Point Inn have the same reunions with favorite spaces: the way summer evenings turn to gold on the front porch, the lovingly timeworn dishes and menus in the case by 88, the Penguin Club certificate, from a past summer’s employee, on the wall. The photograph of the Kennedys aboard Palawan. Each greeted on the mental list of old friends and familiar places.

Sort of the way the holidays come back around with past friends and memories, family gatherings and great stories. The way the Ghost of Christmas Past lights up the amber of Ebenezer’s happiest days.

In that same mood we tacked from past to future when we saw Nate Campbell’s painting of “Devyn’s Boat” (winner of the recent Boothbay Region Art Foundation’s annual ART in ME show, displayed at Red Cup Coffeehouse in town) and the feeling he has captured, of his son’s first helm, looking out on the misty horizon of the sea as if on the future.

Spruce Point has that, too. Looking past the familiar (now snow-covered) lawn awaiting spring and the shuttered cottages we see the grey ocean and taste the salt air unrolling beneath storm and stars. Like a harbor pilot, we know the depths, shoals and currents of innkeeping the way we know breathing. We look to the horizon of next season with heightened anticipation at this time of year, not fully knowing what will come.

But from the height of our mind’s eye and oceanside memories made in Maine, we look forward to greeting the familiar. And turning our airship again home.