Return to the Homeland


About a month ago my uncle died quite suddenly and as a result, I’ve been to Maine more times in the past few weeks than I have in probably two or three years.  This weekend, however, we drove up so that my dad could help E put a new bumper on his FJ Cruiser, the result of a small mishap last winter involving an icy road and a stone wall.  *Ahem*  While that project was underway, my mom and I wandered down the road, me with my camera tucked under my arm.  Their yard smells like Christmas trees, which was an enticement to be outside in and of itself, but really it’s just so beautiful there even now in late fall you have to be outside in it.  I pretty much had not touched my camera since our vacation in August, and I’m a little rusty, but the late afternoon sunshine was streaming through the trees and it was too tempting not to try taking a few photos.

???????????????????????????????As usual there were plenty of chipmunks and squirrels running around, including this guy having a snack on the neighbor’s stone wall, along with an assortment of chickadees, blue jays and woodpeckers.  And the other neighbor’s chickens, which were wandering around scratching at the leaves underfoot:


I really hope her name is Gladys.  She looks like a Gladys, right?

Also, I found this really cool looking moss out behind my parents house, which resembles miniature palm trees:


To the uninitiated it’s hard to explain just how rural this part of the world is, how quiet and still dusk can be as the birds settle in for the evening and the sun slowly puts itself to bed.  I think all of us native Mainers who leave the state carry a little bit of this around with us, even as we tromp around the cities we’ve scattered to.  And even though we live in a town in Massachusetts surrounded by farms and conservation land, it’s not the same as living in Maine.  Not even close.

???????????????????????????????After a gigantic breakfast and a visit with my grandmother this morning we came home to find one of the cats sitting in the driveway.  Since we locked her in the house before we left, it’s a complete mystery as to how she got out.  Tomorrow we will put our sleuthing hats on, because if the cat can get out what might get in?!, but tonight I’ll dream of Christmas tree smells and golden light and the Milky Way twinkling above in the darkness, without an inch of light pollution to obscure the view.



About Lori Allen Writes

Lori is plotting to take over the world one essay, one quilt, and one hand knit sock at a time.
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