travel – Roadkill Crossing

Nurturing Relationships as We Age

Birding with friends. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh

Nearly 80 years of living have taught me how valuable strong, wholesome relationships are. As a youngster, I learned that family comes first, followed by close friends.

Growing up in a neighborhood of baby boomers taught me the importance of having caring, trustworthy pals. The importance of proper socialization stuck with me.

I’ve tried to carry those lessons throughout my life and into retirement. Healthy bonding relationships create a twofold effect for me. I feel better physically and emotionally.

As we age, we need nurturing relationships that sometimes require a certain vulnerability. It’s important to be open to every opportunity to connect and reconnect. That can happen through planned meetings or a spontaneous encounter at a restaurant, or even on vacation.

For me, it means incorporating my gifts and abilities with those of others. I enjoy writing, so I facilitate a monthly Zoom writing group with creatives in their 70s, 80s, and 90s. We each read a piece, and the listeners offer supportive comments and share ideas for improvement, or even suggest taking the story in a different direction. We also laugh a lot, and sometimes cry.

Surrounding yourself with like-minded people, especially as you age, is critical for retirees. An occasional nature walk in a local arboretum with folks who share my interests keeps me refreshed and uplifted.

A Tiger Swallowtail butterfly along a hiking trail. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh

Even as older folks, using our five senses lets us keep learning and growing. I try to listen more than talk. I enjoy hearing others’ stories and how they handled situations similar to what I’ve experienced.

I belong to a local birding club that holds regular outings. I attend as often as I can, not only to find migrating birds, but also to learn techniques for properly identifying bird species. Fall warblers, dressed in their drab colors, are difficult for me to identify. My birding friends eagerly show me how to tell a fall Cape May Warbler from a Bay-breasted one.

My wife and I belong to three different small groups, two of which meet monthly and always with food. We take turns hosting, and everyone contributes to the modest feast. One group is intergenerational, with ages ranging from infants to grandparents.

Two of the three groups are both comprised of seniors. It’s easy to share our latest aches and pains as we age, but once the simple meal is finished, we get down to business by answering a pre-assigned prompt individually. We discuss current events, memories from our formative years, and issues we need advice on. Serious or playful, the conversations are rewarding.

At a church retreat. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh

Hearing others’ experiences and perspectives broadens my thinking. It helps me better understand a point of view different from my own. That enhances and nurtures my life.

During the COVID-19 restrictions, we Zoomed every other week with my wife’s sister and four cousins, who were like brothers and sisters growing up. We enjoyed the camaraderie so much that we’ve continued monthly Zooms, since we live in different states.

My wife also Zooms monthly with college friends, all of whom graduated in the early 1970s and are scattered across the country. Those strong connections have led to in-person gatherings and even vacations together.

My wife and I spent a few days in Maine last summer with one of those lifelong college friends. The sound of ocean waves crashing lulled us to sleep while the pastel light of the rising sun awakened us at 4:30 a.m. We walked along the shore at low tide and ate fresh lobster on the dock in a quaint cove.

Weeks later, we visited the same friend in Baltimore, Maryland. She was a perfect host. On the hottest day of September, we toured a massive second-hand store and then a railroad museum. In the evening, we attended a baseball game at Camden Yards. We enjoyed our time together despite my Cleveland Guardians’ loss.

My wife of 55 years has many useful and creative gifts, but the greatest is hospitality. She loves hosting friends, family, and new neighbors for meals and fellowship. A young couple moved next door from New Mexico. Of course, my wife invited them for dinner, and they stayed for four hours. The conversation freely flowed, and they soon returned the favor.

Friends occasionally visit us from other states, especially from our home state of Ohio. They are enchanted by Virginia’s bucolic Shenandoah Valley, where we moved nearly a decade ago to be close to our daughter and her family.

We enjoy escorting visitors around our small city and the surrounding agricultural countryside. Shenandoah National Park borders our county to the east, and each visitor finds the park as remarkable and awe-inspiring as I do.

On one recent visit by Ohio friends, we met another couple who helped us locate and identify tiny but beautiful flowers we would have missed. The pesky gnats and cloud-enshrouded mountains couldn’t diminish our pleasant adventures.

The same results occur when we visit our son, his wife, and their young son in upstate New York, or when we return to our beloved Holmes County, Ohio, where we lived among the Amish for nearly four decades.

We moved to Virginia’s Shenandoah Valley to be close to our daughter and her family. Those 10 years have flown by as we watched our grandchildren grow and mature. We followed them from T-ball to college baseball, attended piano recitals, band concerts, high school musicals, and volleyball games.

Packing bags of food for children. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh

We find great comfort and connection with others as we not only worship, but also participate in activities that involve community members. My wife volunteers at a thrift store once a week, and we both help pack and distribute food for food-insecure families at a local elementary school.

Of course, life challenges us physically as we age, so we exercise regularly and are mindful about what we eat and how much we eat. We make regular checkups with doctors and appointments with physical therapists as needed.

At our age, hardships occur too often for friends and family. Empathy and compassion help soothe the emotional pain we encounter.

Traveling has been an eye-opener for us, and we wish we had done more when we were younger. But we can only move forward in life and enjoy and learn from the trips we do take, whether by car, plane, or cruise.

My wife and I feel most grateful for our families and the many friends we have. Their love and support shower us with kindness and appreciation, whether they live next door or in another state or country.

Relationships flourish when we nurture them with compassion and openness. Their unconditional inclusion keeps us engaged and going.

In all of this, if I have learned anything in life, it’s that we are all one human family. Even amid differences, accepting others doesn’t mean agreeing with them. Instead, heartfelt connections count.

At this age, that’s exactly how I desire my life experiences and human interactions to add up.

Stating the Obvious

Finally, a vanity license plate I could understand.

So many times, I spot vanity plates that stretch my imagination and creativity to their limits. Try as I might, I can’t logically assemble the mix of letters and numbers to mean anything obvious.

For this car, seen in a parking lot in Shenandoah National Park, the meaning was clear as…well, green. And what a sparkling clean verdant color it was.

Here’s the full view of this “GRRREEN” car. My only question is: Was its owner promoting this flashy automobile’s screaming color, supporting ecology, or was it just naivete?

Finding Beauty on an Ugly Day

The fog rolled in at Big Meadows in Shenandoah National Park. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh

Our Ohio friends wanted to visit Shenandoah National Park. The weather was less than cooperative. We ventured out anyway.

On our way to the park, a deck of low clouds obscured our view of the Blue Ridge Mountains, where Shenandoah National Park is located. We pressed on. The dismal weather couldn’t deter our friends from wanting to experience this national gem for the first time.

Once in the park, clouds rolled across the mountain landscape, obscuring most of the views of Shenandoah Valley from the several overlooks along Skyline Drive. Occasional rain dotted the windshield as we climbed higher.

Since our friends enjoy camping, I pulled into the historic Lewis Mountain Campgrounds. During segregation, this was the only area that allowed Blacks to be in the park. Today, it has maintained its rustic look with a camp store, several woodsided cabins, and campsites for tents and campers alike.

Mountain Mint at Milum Gap along Skyline Drive. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh

We stopped at Milum Gap, where the Millprong Trail connects with the Appalachian Trail a stone’s throw from the Skyline Drive. Honeybees and bumblebees buzzed at the late-blooming mountain mint blossoms.

We soon arrived at Big Meadows, and just as we exited the vehicle, clouds skirted across the landscape like a chilling phantom. We walked around anyhow.

However, the rain drove us back to the SUV, and we explored the expansive Big Meadows campground with many campsites, shower facilities, and a camp store. Our friends were impressed.

A fern circle in Big Meadows. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh

As we returned to the sweeping, prairie-like bowl of Big Meadows, the rain turned to a light mist. So, we chose a path and began to explore. Every time I see Big Meadows, I am always impressed with its expansiveness and the array of colors, even without bright sunshine.

In fact, the low, silvery cloud cover seemed to enhance the plants and flowers we encountered. The simple beauty beckoned us in, and we obliged.

We had only taken a few steps on an established path when we spotted several Spotted Lanternflies clinging to the season’s second-growth Common Milkweed plants and other plant stems. Quick as they are, we still killed a couple of dozen of the invasive species that destroy woody plants and trees.

One of the Spotted Lanternflies we killed.

Still, we marveled at the russets, browns, and various greens of September. We admired many blooms and snapped photos to identify them later.

On another path across the way, we noticed another couple. The man was bent over, photographing something low to the ground. His partner stood behind, scanning the area with binoculars.

At first, I thought she was looking at birds. But the unseasonably cool, damp weather even kept the birds sheltered and quiet.

Curious, we approached the couple, who were more than happy to share their finds with us. The man pointed out the ginseng blossoms we saw him photographing.

Using her binoculars, the woman excitedly exclaimed that she had spotted one of 60 of Virginia’s native orchids. We walked several yards together before we arrived at the lone, spiky bloom of the Ladies Tresses.

Soon, a Meadow Variegated butterfly landed nearby. I had never seen one before. It posed nicely for a photo.

Then the amateur botanists sighted what they called a “butter-and-eggs” flower. This time we walked even farther and came upon a small area where the yellow and orange flowers flourished. Its official name is Yellow Toadflax, but it’s also called wild snapdragon. I learned later that it is a highly invasive plant.

I found some rosehips along the path back to our vehicle. It looked like Christmas, with their rosy red berries contrasting with the plant’s shiny green leaves. Spiky Burnet flowers grew nearby.

Stands of Goldenrod dominated open areas beyond Big Meadows, and especially along the road. Yet, we saw few in the high-elevation grassland of Big Meadows.

After basking in Big Meadows’ offerings, we headed north on Skyline Drive, hoping to find openings in the clouds at overlooks. We found a few and enjoyed the views before the clouds rolled back in. We took a short hike at Franklin Cliffs, and I found a Pearl Crescent butterfly resting on a blueberry bush.

Sadly, we also found the park trails sorely lacking maintenance, mostly because of the major staff and funding cuts implemented last year. Weeds and tree limbs, normally trimmed before the federal funding cuts, overhung the trails.

Despite the wet weather and chilly temperatures, our friends enjoyed their introduction to Shenandoah National Park. They assured us that they would be back.

We look forward to seeing them again, especially in that natural setting.

Our friends in Big Meadows. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh

Snippets of Baltimore

Our friend, Diana, and Neva at the Baltimore Railroad Museum. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh

Thanks to our host, my wife and I crammed a lot in on an overnight trip to Baltimore, Maryland. We went there to watch the Cleveland Guardians play the Baltimore Orioles. Diana, our host, had other ideas.

If the traffic behaves, it’s a three-hour trip to Baltimore from our home in Virginia’s Shenandoah Valley. We arrived right on schedule.

After a lovely summer lunch, we headed out into near 90-degree heat to visit a couple of venues Diana thought we would like. She was spot on.

First up was the perfectly named Second Chance warehouse, where used goods of all kinds are for sale to individuals and contractors alike. The place was massive. Customers can buy good used items, from furniture to radiators to old-growth lumber to vintage signs.

We wandered from aisle to aisle browsing the thousands of items available. Of course, the former steel manufacturing plant wasn’t air-conditioned, so we headed for the second spot when we got too hot.

The National Museum of Railroad History and Innovation was just around the block. We visited the air-conditioned history section to cool off and learn about railroad history. The museum recently changed its name from the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad Museum to better represent the full scale of railroading.

We found the roundhouse to be the most interesting part. While Diana and Neva sat in rocking chairs in front of a fan, I wandered from old steam engines to diesel engines and passenger cars. I learned a lot.

Once a month, an engine is brought into the roundhouse pulling a coach to demonstrate how the roundhouse works. A 60-foot turntable rotates with 19th-century engineering.

The weight on the turntable rests on a highly efficient pivot center filled with massive ball bearings. Staff and sometimes visitors push long wooden levers to rotate the engine or car, perfectly balanced on the turntable.

After I made my rounds exploring the old engines and passenger cars, we headed back to Diana’s to rest and have another delicious meal. We left for the baseball game an hour before game time. With the heat, we decided not to walk and hitched a ride with Diana’s daughter.

We walked past the statue of my all-time favorite third baseman, Brooks Robinson, who played his entire career for the Orioles. Brooks was a human vacuum sweeper at the hot corner, and he certainly deserved to be voted into the Baseball Hall of Fame.

We found our seats near the Guardians’ dugout on the third-base side of the diamond. We had excellent views of the Cleveland players as they stretched and warmed up before the first pitch.

The game started out right for my Guardians. Rookie Chase DeLauter hit a two-run homer to give Cleveland the early lead. It didn’t last long. The Orioles had their way with Cleveland pitchers, and we left before the game ended.

The evening had cooled as we waited on our ride back to Diana’s. After our long day, we all slept well.

Despite the Guardians’ loss, I was glad we had come to Baltimore, a city with a lot to offer. We had a wonderful host who showed us only a snippet of this East Coast city.

Lunch with Diana. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh

Appreciating the Moment

The backside of a severe thunderstorm. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh

After last evening’s storm passed, I stepped out the back door to check my rain gauge when this amazing scene stopped me in my tracks.

We had yet another storm, but it clearly had intensified as it approached the Blue Ridge Mountains and Shenandoah National Park, which serve as the eastern boundary of Rockingham County, Virginia, where we live.

The view of the mammatus clouds from my driveway. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh

The setting sun dramatically illuminated the eastward-moving thunderstorm. The pouch-like clouds are mammatus clouds, formed when colder air aloft sinks into warmer air below.

Mammatus clouds almost always occur either at the lead of a severe thunderstorm or at the rear of the anvil-shaped thunderstorm crown. For meteorologists and those who appreciate and study clouds, spotting mammatus clouds is a rarity.

Since such clouds don’t last long, I wanted a view with a better line of sight. So, I headed to nearby Heritage Oaks Golf Course, behind an elementary school, which gave me an unobstructed view of the fast-moving storm.

As you can see, the turbulent clouds had already changed in the five minutes it took me to arrive at the golf course. Plus, the sun had set behind the Allegheny Mountains 30 miles to the west, changing the intensity and direction of its rays. Consequently, the colors of the clouds mellowed to more orange than white and yellow.

Please click on the photos to enlarge them.

Still, I was ecstatic to capture these shots, so much so that I never did check the rain gauge.

August Wasn’t August This Year

A puffy white cloud August day. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh

When I rose for my morning walk around the neighborhood, it was 47 degrees outside. On August 25!

As I walked in the early morning coolness, I thought more about how this August had been so different in the eastern U.S. The eighth month of 2026 here in Virginia’s lovely Shenandoah Valley has been anything but normal weatherwise.

August behaved normally the first nine years of living here after moving from Ohio’s Amish country. Year after year, August’s sun beat down, and the humidity overwhelmed you.

Usually, large cracks in the hardened, red soil zigzagged like spider webs. The parched grass crunched beneath your feet, devoid of any moisture for days, even weeks on end. Not this year.

Our burned-out backyard in 2020. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh

Apparently, August masqueraded as April. A few spring flowers bloomed again. With storm after storm, some locales measured inches of rain. A few areas even experienced tornadoes, a rarity in Virginia, with property damage and power outages. Fortunately, no injuries or deaths were reported.

Even then, the area remains abnormally dry, according to the U.S. Drought Monitor. That’s how dry the early weeks of summer were.

Though we didn’t realize it at the time, summer’s dog days fell in June and July. Haze filled the bucolic valley, significantly obscuring the view of the mountains to the east and west.

Strong winds in a severe thunderstorm damaged our Red Maple tree. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh

With August’s arrival, puffy white clouds sailed through deep blue August days. When school began again, students donned jackets while waiting for the school bus. They still wore shorts, however.

Instead of parched yards, lawns grew and grew, sometimes requiring mowing twice a week. It was a cash cow for high schoolers mowing lawns.

Unfortunately, the states to the south and west, clear to the Pacific Ocean, blazed and baked under record-high temperatures, extreme heat warnings, and massive wildfires. High winds spread small fires into thousand-acre conflagrations in minutes.

It wasn’t just the U.S. either. Europe and Canada shared in the record heat, dryness, and wildfires. Homes were destroyed, and firefighters were hard-pressed to contain the raging wildfires. The fires spread so rapidly around Las Vegas, Nevada, that residents escaped with only the clothes they wore. Passengers on European river cruises were inconvenienced by having to deboard for buses because the water was so low.

August’s weather has been a double-edged sword. Upper-level winds carried wildfire debris far from the fires’ origins, resulting in air quality issues for millions of folks. That also created glowing, golden sunrises and sunsets as a trade-off for the undesirable smoky smells.

A hazy sunset over the Allegheny Mountains. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh

At the same time, people appreciated the coolness, especially in the morning. Those on their daybreak exercise in my neighborhood have been wearing jackets and sweatshirts instead of T-shirts.

Of course, the regularities of August are still with us no matter the weather. Crickets and katydids lull us to sleep. Monarch, Tiger Swallowtail, Spangled and Variegated Fritillaries, and Pipevine butterflies flit from flower to flower, occasionally stopping for a photo op.

The avian fall migration has begun in earnest. I’ve successfully chased Swallow-tailed Kites and Mississippi Kites, both species far north of their normal range. Warblers and other songbirds have joined them in their quest for appropriate food absent in northern climes in the colder fallow seasons.

Conversely, folks in the southwestern U.S. have been baked in consecutive 100-degree-plus days, weeks in some places. Those are abnormal temperatures for August, even for those areas.

Clearly, geographic location has played a major role in the weather one has experienced this August. That’s the way weather rolls.

Despite the storm-damaged maple tree in my front yard, I’m very thankful we were in the cooler zone of August’s many vagaries.

The bucolic Shenandoah Valley. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh

Enjoying Nature’s Many Benefits

You never know what you’ll happen upon in nature. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh

We live in a stress-filled world with lots of artificial noise, annoying distractions, societal expectations, and short deadlines. There are ways to escape the madness, even if only temporarily.

In my almost 79 years of living, I have made a habit of escaping much of life’s static by getting away. Even in retirement, I feel life’s stresses.

Hiking and bird watching are two excellent ways to forget all of the activities that clutter our lives, especially with 21st-century technology constantly hounding us. Combining exercise with enjoyment helps strengthen my body, foster mindfulness, and recharge my spirit for living.

I add in a third complementary hobby: photography. Snapshots of my outings document where I have been and what I have seen. Then I can share the treasures I have found with others, which only enhances the joy of the experience.

Poet Mary Oliver taught us to “pay attention, be astonished, tell about it.” During my treks, I put this poetic advice into practice. I marvel at a pair of Swallow-tailed Kites foraging for insects over a recently mown field. Walking through a tunnel of blooming Mountain Laurel along the Appalachian Trail stops me in my tracks.

A Swallowtail Kite. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh

A blogger friend of mine who frequents Georgia’s Okefenokee National Wildlife Refuge does so for solitude and renewal by kayaking among alligators. Finding renewal in nature is a personal preference. Making the effort to enjoy the outdoors is what counts.

Recent studies have proven what author Wendell Berry has always known: “For a time, I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.” One study “found evidence for associations between nature exposure and improved cognitive function, brain activity, blood pressure, mental health, physical activity, and sleep.” Another research paper focused on the health benefits of nature in urban areas.

These studies show that everyone, everywhere, should commune with nature. It can be a morning walk in your neighborhood or a long-distance bicycle ride. I walk frequently in our suburban neighborhood in Virginia’s Shenandoah Valley. The melodious bird calls and the fragrance from well-attended flower gardens combine to energize my steps.

I find Berry’s grace under the shady canopy of towering trees, among stands of colorful wildflowers, while viewing wildlife big and small, and in forever mountaintop vistas. So, whether with friends or solo, I enjoy nature in her many forms. Being retired allows me to do so as time allows.

I keep a steady pace until I spot something pretty or intriguing. I pull out my smartphone and photograph it. That documents the time and place to reinforce my memory. It might be another opportunity to share it as well.

I belong to a local bird club, so I can follow up on any rare bird alerts as I can. I don’t always find the bird in question, but I’m not disappointed. I often encounter other birders in search of the same species. We commiserate and share other birding adventures we’ve had. New friends are made in the process.

I’ll occasionally join a scheduled bird hike in a city park or even in Shenandoah National Park 40 miles away. Having multiple pairs of eyes scanning the sky and peering through thickets and woodlots enhances all our chances of seeing a special bird.

I have the privilege of mentoring a high school junior from our church. He also happens to enjoy bird watching, so we occasionally venture out with small groups or another mentor-mentee pair to enjoy the hiking, camaraderie, and all we encounter along the way.

Impatient with our septuagenarian pace, the trustworthy teens forge ahead, exploring on their own. Once, they encountered an unfamiliar rock scramble and rushed back to us, realizing they had missed the turn.

I am most free to enjoy the flora and fauna when I go alone. I travel at my own leisure, stopping to photograph bees and butterflies on flowers, unusual rock formations, and birds if I can spot them in the dense foliage.

After hiking to a majestic overlook in the Blue Ridge Mountains, I rest a spell, partly to regain my energy and catch my breath, but mostly to inhale the view. The quiet has its rewards: a doe grazing with her fawn, Red-tailed Hawks and Turkey Vultures soaring on thermals with puffy white clouds sailing high overhead in the cerulean sky, a Timber Rattlesnake soaking in the sun on a limestone outcropping.

Hydration and nourishment with water and snacks are essential, especially when hiking at higher altitudes. With binoculars hanging from my neck and a camera slung on my shoulder, a pair of walking sticks keeps me steady even on the rockiest of terrain.

Spending time in nature provides many benefits, especially for seniors as we age. It helps improve cardiovascular health and sleep, and reduce inflammation in the body, according to this study by the Elder Care Alliance. My family physician tells me “to keep moving,” so I do.

The essence of being in nature with the wild things gives me all the peace I need. With no signal in remote areas, the cellphone never interrupts.

Going to the Mall

I grew up in the 1950s and 60s, when a lot was happening in the U.S. and global society. Much of the action mirrored today’s unfortunate interactions.

The one burgeoning element in my adolescent years was the development of shopping malls. “Build it, and they will come” was certainly true in those turbulent years of Vietnam and the civil rights movement.

People flocked to the malls. If they wanted to, shoppers could park in one spot in the massive parking lots that surrounded the indoor malls and shop to their heart’s content. They could even have lunch in the food court.

Of course, those massive malls proved to be the doom of city downtowns all across the country. Mom-and-pop stores that provided goods and services for generations eventually closed. Storefronts shuttered, and city centers decayed.

But look at many of those malls today. Like the urban stores, the malls have also closed one by one. Big box stores and Amazon have been their demise.

The efficiency of technology, which we all use, has been the death knell of in-person shopping for the most part. It’s also stifled human interactions, if only in casual passing. If the malls remain open, they often have been converted to government service centers with a few scattered retail stores.

Imagine my surprise when our friend and host where we stayed on the Maine Coast announced that we were going to “the mall.” We loaded the SUV with the garbage and recycling, and drove to the Georgetown Island, Maine, recycling center.

So, how can a recycling center be a mall? Leave it to Mainers. “The mall” stands in the far corner of the property. Residents bring items that are still usable and place them among the other items on the shelves that already hold tea sets, paintings, toys, and decorations.

Used clothing is hung on racks just like a thrift store. Bigger items like furniture, suitcases, and fans sat on the concrete. There was even a used composting toilet. So, if it’s still usable, Mainers pass it on for others who might want it.

The best part of this mall: Everything is free. If you like it and can use it, it’s yours, no questions asked. After all, it is a recycling center.

It’s the kind of mall anyone would enjoy.

Feeling the Heat

Though we were in Maine, we felt the oppressive summer heat like the rest of the U.S. and even globally. We even had a day of smoky skies from the wildfires. The only reprieve was our host’s cabin, where the ocean breezes kept the temperatures tolerable.

Nevertheless, we wanted to see other attractions, so we headed out despite the heat. Unfortunately, we chose the warmest day of our stay to venture to the Coastal Maine Botanical Garden in Boothbay, Maine.

We toured the many lovely gardens, but not all of them. Elder folks that we are, we wilted under the heat and humidity. We sought shelter at lunchtime in the air conditioning of the garden’s cafe.

We continued our walking tour until we found a shuttle cart that drove us into the far reaches of the popular destination. I would have loved to walk those shaded paths down to the ocean, but I wasn’t sure I would make it back. So, our brief riding tour completed our time there.

A short drive south brought us to the tourist-popular Boothbay Harbor. Given the crowd, I was fortunate to find a parking spot. We walked along the harbor’s edges where we could until we found an ice cream shop. It was the pause we all needed.

I had spied a large white church across the bay, so we drove around the bay so I could photograph the church and the bay from that location. An engaging dock worker permitted me to enter the private dock to take my photos, but only at my own risk. With a smile, he said he would rescue me if I fell in. I didn’t.

In the evening, my wife and I drove back to Five Islands for another lobster roll before we had to leave in the morning. With the sun’s angle just right, I was more interested in capturing photos of the boats moored in the harbor and near the surrounding islands.

When I ordered our food, I noticed a live lobster, with its claws taped shut, resting in a box on the counter. Perhaps it had been ordered for a cook-it-yourself take-out.

When I returned to our table, two other couples had just sat down with their seafood dinners. They kindly allowed me to photograph a boiled lobster. Clearly, the cooked lobster was much more appetizing than the live one.

We greatly enjoyed our vacation with family and friends, meeting new people, and exploring new places. The bird outings were fun, too. The next morning’s sunrise served as a nice send-off.

The sunrise served as a lovely send-off for us. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh

Visiting a Neighbor: Reid State Park

One of the beaches at Reid State Park, Georgetown, Maine. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh

Reid State Park lies a mile across the bay from the cottage where we stayed. To get there by car, we drove seven miles.

The park serves as an access to the ocean for the general public. It also stands as a stark reminder of Mainers’ desire to preserve and protect their precious and lovely coastline from too much commercial development.

Diana, our host, wanted us to experience the park the way other visitors do. It was also an opportunity for a wider perspective of the Atlantic Ocean than what we could see from her cottage in the woods across the way.

Young girls braved the waves. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh

With the tide high, the waves rolled in to the joy of the water lovers of all ages. Young girls braved the strong waves, trying to stay erect against the crashing force. Their mother stood on alert where the waves turned to foam.

Wanting to try to ride the larger waves ashore, teenagers snagged a driftwood log and walked it bravely into the breakers. I was afraid to watch further.

Ducks also rode the waves close to shore and out of the wind. Gulls perched on rocks or pestered picnickers for any discarded scraps. Song Sparrows darted from scrubs to sea oats in search of proper food. I stood on the giant metamorphic rocks for an elevated view of all the action.

People searched the tide pools in the rocks for any trapped fish and starfish. The park featured no water slides or swimming pools. The purpose was to enjoy all that nature offered, from water-worn boulders, sandy beaches, and birds and butterflies.

When we returned to the cottage, low tide revealed the tidal flats of sweep sand for all to enjoy in the park and beyond.