I took me months to finish my steeples drawing. So it’s been with me for quite awhile. The quote on the page is from the Orthodox Liturgy, and has also been with me of late. So this page from summertime is richly Astoria, and summery, as I head into winter.
Oops, I see I forgot to finish my trip, so here are my last scenes of New England as we drove across heading for Albany NY, and the train home. In New Hampshire we discovered Hanover, the home of Dartmouth. What a lovely campus, and we had lunch at Lou’s, obviously well loved by its community. Crossing the Connecticut River into Vermont, we spent a night at Brattleboro on the banks of the river. And the next day, enough time for a picnic in Bennington and an explore of the Old Church, behind which is the graveyard where Robert Frost is buried.
Say Goodnight, Christi.
One of my “main” goals was to explore some of the coast of Maine on this trip, so we set aside 10 days after New York and headed north. It was great; the heat of summer held off, and the New England roads beckoned. I really enjoy this spread because of the stories behind the drawings that come back to me in full sensory remembering. ¶ Encouraged to visit the Pemaquid Lighthouse … We didn’t know lighthouses could be so little! Beach-combing on the Georgetown Peninsula before the summer crowds descended, we had the surf to ourselves. And then we discovered Camden – magical! – as dozens of pre-schoolers were out to sail their hand-made wooden sailboats for their end-of-year celebration. What color, what joy!
But most of all, my day alone to the Cranberry Isles on the mail boat. It was an escape from Bar Harbor, thick with tourists, while Greg explored Acadia National Park. I took “avoiding tourists” to a new high, and I can easily say I had those islands to myself. Back on the late afternoon ferry with Greg to meet me, I was intent on one more quintessential Maine treat. We hunted down a lobster shack, I met my lobster face to face, and I ate him. Can I just say (without offending anyone out there?), I won’t be doing that again … ever.
We’re home and finally a quiet summer to finish up the east coast pages. We left New York and spent 10 days in New England. Such a difference: being in a car, for one! New York was a world of its own, and all around it … an older world it seems. I find New England so very old-fashioned, and when I see the dates of various towns, it begins to make sense.
Isn’t the ability to look back a wonderful gift? I turned 65 while in New York, and the sense of a life lived has been upon me. We cannot know what lies ahead, but we can (mostly) remember from whence we’ve come. The sketchbook is my doorway, rich with memory, at least for these past 8 years.
I told Greg recently, if I get so old I don’t remember, just pile my sketchbooks nearby. That should do me just fine.
Our NY adventure was to be for 3 months, but that would have had us moving out on May 31 … our birthday .. and that wouldn’t do. Hence one extra week into June, just so we could have a day. And we did. It was warm. We were 134 years old. We ended on a high note, dinner and jazz at Birdland. You’ll have to read close to discover our best birthday surprise.
Today, a week later, this is the last thing for me to do in our Lower Harlem apartment. It’s clean, car’s loaded, (and I do mean loaded) and we are off for two more weeks of New England, and our train ride home.
It’s been great!