Photo of the Day

The "Tarn" in the shadow of Dorr mountain

I was so excited when I got this shot downloaded off my camera.   I love the way the shape of the sky reflected in the marsh matches the shape of the surrounding mountains creating the “shadow” section of the photo.   I really like this shot, hope you do too!  If you click on the photo, you should be able to view it in a larger format.

 

Thinking about “the moment” on the Jesup Trail

Searching for "a moment" along the Jesup path

One of my fundamental beliefs is that if we can learn to fully experience or be in each moment of our existence that we will live happier lives and be more content.  I believe this because the moment is all that we can be sure of.   “The past is over, the future is uncertain, today is all we have, that’s why it’s called the present”, or words  similar to this I have read many times.

This idea of being in the moment is much easier said then done.    Some months ago I sat down and made a list of times in my adult life that I felt I was truly “in the moment”.  So I would like to challenge you to list six experiences that you have had in your life where you were totally in the moment – nothing else mattered at that point in time, you were completely immersed in that experience, no distractions, no worries about the future, no regrets about the past; just that moment.   And, I’m going to further challenge you to skip the obvious ones, like the day you got married, or the day your kids/grandkids were born, or fabulous sex (because this is a G-rated blog).   Be as specific as you can.

I loved the feeling looking down this boardwalk through the woods evoked for me.

Here are six from my list:

• Flying out to a glacier by helicopter in Alaska and then hiking on the glacier.   Talk about feeling small.
• The first time I came to Acadia with my new SLR camera and hiking the ocean trail – the surf was amazing (and sometimes I still miss my Fuji film).   I must have shot 15 rolls of film that day.
• Sitting behind the Tampa Bench for a Tampa Bay versus Toronto  National Hockey League game.  Wow, you get a whole other perspective on how fast and physical that game is when you sit behind the bench.
• Driving a Nascar Type car at the Richard Petty Driving school.  Hanging on for dear life, pedal to the metal and screaming WHOOOOO the whole way around the track.
• Driving the Cabot Trail in Nova Scotia, emerging from fog so thick going up one side of the mountain pass and emerging on the other side to crystal clear skies and the sight of endless ocean.  This was made even more special after surviving “The Cabin From Hell” the night before where I was certain I was going to see Bigfoot, but that’s a story for another blog.
• Going on a whale watching cruise and getting to see some of these magnificent animals in their natural environment so “up close and personal”,  they took my breath away with their beauty and majesty.

As you can see for me, a lot of my “in the moment” experiences have to do with being in nature (and sports that are fast, physical, and a little dangerous).     Since the nearest hockey is more than an hour away at the University of Maine, I’m counting on my experiences with nature here on Mount Desert Island to help me build skill at being in the moment.   In fact one of my daily affirmations is as follows:  “I am able to be still, listen to this place (Acadia), and learn from it’s wisdom”.

Winterberries on sky

This is easier said then done.  I, like most people want the quick fix, the instant change.  But I’m learning that it doesn’t work that way.   Any change worth making in your life is going to take time, it’s going to take practice, and most of all, it’s going to take patience.   So I will keep walking and I will keep watching and I will keep listening.   I want being in the moment to be a part of my daily existence, not something that I  achieve only while traveling, or engaged in a particular hobby.    I want those moments while washing the dishes, I want them while petting the cats, I want the mundane to become the sublime, and as those moments pile one upon another I end up living a beautiful life.

May we all have beautiful lives made up of beautiful moments.    I will close with a zen quote:

“Seize from every moment its unique novelty and do not prepare your joys”  Andre Gide

 

 

Along the Ocean Trail with nothing but…..

Left the house today for my hike without my camera.   However, I DID have my iPhone.

So here are two plugs for the Apple product.   I LOVE my phone!

Driftwood along the ocean trail

I’ve read articles of photographers doing travel shoots with nothing but their iPhone!

The water was an amazing shade of aquamarine today, not fully captured here.

Walking in the footsteps of Dorr

Today, in addition to my regular “in town” walk, I hiked a short trail just outside of Bar Harbor called “Compass Point Harbor”.    This trail led away from the main road to a small harbor.   The land surrounding this harbor was owned by George B. Dorr, who is commonly referred to as “The Father of Acadia” (more on that later).   These lands are now part of the national park.

Compass Point Harbor at Low Tide

The harbor overlooks the edge of Frenchman’s Bay where it meets the Atlantic ocean.   From here one can view the “Porcupine Islands”,  a series of small, rocky islands that when viewed from the top of Cadillac mountain were thought (by the early French explorers) to resemble the spines on a Porcupine’s back.

Two of the "Porcupine Islands" as viewed from Compass Point

George B. Dorr was the son of one of the wealthy families that summered in Bar Harbor during the late 1800’s and early 1900’s.   He grew up hiking the woods, mountains, lakes, and shorelines that make up Mount Desert Island.  In 1901 he, along with 10 other local families met to discuss the concerns  they had about Mount Desert Island becoming “over developed”, and that the island was losing its “natural character”.     Deciding that the best way to preserve this land was to “let the government-run it” (my how times have changed), these families, led by George Dorr began to donate large parcels of their land and in 1916 six thousand acres were declared a national monument.    It would take several more years of tireless work on the part of Dorr before the monument was changed to “Lafayette National Park” (in honor of the early French who explored the island).   Now encompassing more than ten thousand acres this would be the first national park east of the Mississippi.   Ten years later, in 1929 the park was renamed “Acadia National Park” because some land owners refused to donate their land to a park that was named after “the French”.     Acadia also has the distinction of being the only national park comprised entirely of donated lands!

Original granite steps leading from harbor to Dorr's cottage

In the end, Dorr spent 47 years of his life (and most of his family’s fortune – as a bachelor he did not need to worry about heirs)  working to create and preserve Acadia National park where more than 4 million people visit annually.    Walking the granite steps and over the foundation of what used to be his home,  my gratefulness to Dorr and those other people of vision is renewed.    Because of them I am able to explore, discover, and savor the beauty that is Acadia.  What would this place be if not for them?

The Gift

Today’s walk took me to Fabbri Point along a stretch of the Park Loop Road overlooking Otter Cove. From the parking area, I was able to hike along the loop road (which was closed), heading in the direction of the Otter Cliffs (which happen to be the highest headlands on the Atlantic north of Rio de Janeiro).      It was late afternoon and sunset was approaching.   In my hour and one half walk I did not encounter one other person, and the only man-made sound I heard was the clicking of my camera shutter.   No cars, no planes, no people talking.   Only the wind rustling through the trees, the surf gently lapping the rocks below, and the occasional seagulls.

Sunset over Otter Cove

On the walk back toward my car, I was graced by the presence of three white-tailed deer.   While clearly they are accustomed to people, they were too shy to let me get close enough to take a great picture, but I did get a few clicks off before they disappeared into the woods.

Look closely, two deer!

The appearance of these deer was like a gift, unexpected and beautiful, capping off an amazing quiet and peaceful time spent in the park.    I challenge myself to retain this sense of awareness, this connection with the moment, and I know I will return to this spot, to feel its calm, it’s wisdom; and hopefully learn from what this place has to give.

Looking toward Otter Cove

Jordon Stream Hike

Today I will let other’s words speak for me, but the pictures are mine!

 

Cobblestone Bridge along Jordon Stream

 

I go to nature to be soothed and healed, and to have my senses put in order. ~John Burroughs

 

Jordon Stream

 

I remember a hundred lovely lakes, and recall the fragrant breath of pine and fir and cedar and poplar trees. The trail has strung upon it, as upon a thread of silk, opalescent dawns and saffron sunsets.    Hamlind Garland

 

Acadia Mountains

 

If the sight of the blue skies fills you with joy, if a blade of grass springing up in the fields has power to move you, if the simple things of nature have a message that you understand, rejoice, for your soul is alive. ~Eleonora Duse

 

Great Weather + Great Hike = Amazing Day

One of the first things one must get used to in late fall (and likely winter)  here is that it is always windy.   Now I’m sure the locals don’t consider it windy until there are sustained winds of  30 mph or more.  But it’s been a constant 15 mph with higher gusts since I arrived.   But such is life next to the North Atlantic.      So I stick out as a “new arrival” with my ever-present hat and scarf while the “natives” are still walking around with a lightweight jacket.

Today was the first day (since arriving) of complete and total sunshine from sunrise to sunset.   The air was crisp, but not terribly cold, and I decided it was time to take a “serious hike”.   My destination was “Great Schooner Head”.   The path started out from Sand Beach (in Acadia) and rose 145 feet to the summit.  Yes, I know 145 feet doesn’t sound like much, but try climbing it.   There was no category on my “Daily Burn” app for “Upward Boulder Scrambling”.   But the views along the way were absolutely worth the effort.   The surf was pounding as my hike coincided with high tide.   In fact, the sound of the surf followed me along the two-mile hike, even into the woods.  I can’t help but think of how this surf has been pounding these same rocks for thousands of years (at least nine thousand according to geological “experts”), and will likely continue for thousands of more years.   I find this thought comforting even as it reminds me of the “drop in the bucket” of my life on this earth compared to nature’s cycles.

Sand Beach viewed from Great Schooner Head Overlook

Other Stuff:

Stopped in at the offices of “Friends of Acadia” NPO on my walk “uptown” this morning.   They were more than happy to welcome me as a volunteer and in fact it looks as though they have a project for me to help out with as soon as next week.

Nearing the end of my hike.