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Grow Gold Along with Me, The Best Is Yet to Be

Around here, we look at the couple of weeks framing Labor Day as time for taking stock before a new season begins. It’s the frame that inspired Harbor Fest. The last of the wine (this particular bottle, anyway) and a time to savor all the oceanside memories made in Maine at Spruce Point Inn.

The calendar and the weather say summer is not over. There’s a whole month left. And for those of us who spend the year round here in Boothbay, that’s more than a quarter of the season. We know the days here at the Inn are framed by ‘the secret season’ between Memorial Day and the 4th of July, and ‘the golden season’ between Labor Day and closing weekend on October 17. But here on the Midcoast the days are touched with the same gold of the haze on late summer meadows and the goldenrod that fills the fields where lupine stood purple and pink in June.

The water is as warm as it’s been all summer (we just saw a story on the interns who have spent the summer studying the puffin population on Eastern Egg Rock island and one, sampling the ocean, reported a balmy 60 F degrees.) And twilight still lingers over cocktails after the sun sets beyond the westward-looking windows of 88 or Westport chairs on the lawn overlooking the harbor. The transitional time that Happy Hour in Bogie’s was created for.  Our thoughts, like Burnt Island Light across the bay, still contain the glow of sunset and dawning alongside the slowly rotating beacon with which we scan our well-loved surroundings, checking to ensure all is well with kith and kin.

The “precious few” days of September song and celebrations are ahead. Soon the outward-bound fleet will put to port in Boothbay, storing in supplies before Atlantic crossings, after the hurricane season is done. But that’s a long way off.

When the kids are back to school and the summer house guests have departed, there is time to enjoy the best of Spruce Point, burnished to its finest, with a kitchen brimming with a farmer’s market bounty of the seasonally fished, farmed and gathered at its peak. Come, sit beside us and tell us how the ocean dreams. The best is yet to be.