When I was young my family would travel to Maine and stay in a vacation home for a few weeks in the summer. It was by far the most exciting and interesting trip that we (as a family) would take all year. I remember standing on the rocks, jumping in the 68 degree Atlantic waters and thinking it was the best thing that I had ever witnessed. Until I found the other things on the island that made my 8 yr. old grin smile with excitement. Each day my father, my brother, and sometimes my sisters would head down to the dock where the ferries would arrive and plot out a space on the dock in prime location to catch mackarel. At the age of eight, I really did not know anything about fish, I just knew that I needed to catch as many as possible; because that was going to be our dinner. I remember catching 13 that day, one more than Lewis.
Collecting as many soda and beer cans on the island that I could find and turning them in for a 15 cents a piece. I remember fondly lighting marshmallows by the fire (trying to make mine as crispy as ever, then quickly blowing out the fire), while my mom read us Frank Peretti books and The Hardy Boy Chronicles. I kinda miss those hot, humid, blustery days in Maine catching fireflies by the jar as soon as the sun went down over the Atlantic. It was an interesting time in my life with new things that I had never done before. It was a slow life. Happy that I was there; while not complaining about the barnacles on the seafloor rocks or the massive amount of mosquitoes that would constantly force us to lather on the OFF insect repellent. I feel those days need to be revisited in some form. Whether it is taking a camping trip with my siblings or going out on my own, I need to find my new Peaks Island. Get that 8 year old feeling for a little bit. Even if it is only for a weekend.
Collecting as many soda and beer cans on the island that I could find and turning them in for a 15 cents a piece. I remember fondly lighting marshmallows by the fire (trying to make mine as crispy as ever, then quickly blowing out the fire), while my mom read us Frank Peretti books and The Hardy Boy Chronicles. I kinda miss those hot, humid, blustery days in Maine catching fireflies by the jar as soon as the sun went down over the Atlantic. It was an interesting time in my life with new things that I had never done before. It was a slow life. Happy that I was there; while not complaining about the barnacles on the seafloor rocks or the massive amount of mosquitoes that would constantly force us to lather on the OFF insect repellent. I feel those days need to be revisited in some form. Whether it is taking a camping trip with my siblings or going out on my own, I need to find my new Peaks Island. Get that 8 year old feeling for a little bit. Even if it is only for a weekend.
