Sunday, August 22, 2010
The First Goodbyes
As Ethan and I walked along the beach at the ocean, you would think a sea shell would be the souvenir to remember our goodbye to Acadia. No. A feather washed up at my feet. We went to the summit of Cadillac Mountain to stand together, an Eagle swooped low then disappeared. Just before driving over the causeway to Maine's mainland where I'd expect a sea gull, a hawk flies close, crosses in front of the van, rocks it's wings, then banks sharply away. At all exits these past few days these grand birds have revealed themselves in close sight. Walking about the northeast I have seen many large birds, but none so close as these ushers of goodbye.