“Grab 2 tickets for the 4:00 ferry, I’m running late.”, the voice said on the other end of the phone. Having been under the assumption we were going to miss our ride, I jump from my bench and run inside to purchase another ticket. Our destination, agreed upon late last night over Facebook messenger, is Peak’s Island – a small island community fit with beaches and a year-round Inn. Most Portlander’s are familiar with the Island, but for an Aroostook County boy who is still familiarizing himself with Southern Maine, it was a first time adventure, and a beautiful one at that.
The trip would be with my friend Jen and our weekend stay would be at her friend’s home. Real island living.
Passing by Bug Light and Spring Point light houses and a historic fort, standing guard on smaller islands, our weekend destination is finally spotted in the distance. We ready our bags and descend onto new territory.
Visitors are greeted with brilliant colors from all angles. One island resident jokingly informs us, later at the hotel bar, that no Republicans live on the island. Without a care who inhabits the island – one thing is certain, it’d be a beautiful place to live.
This cozy cottage near the dock, owned by my friend’s boss, will be our weekend home.
We are greeted in style. You can tell a lot about a person by their boots.
Instantly I realize that I can call this place home.
What proves to be my weekend reading chair with an oceanic view.
Afternoons are spent sipping wine and walking two chocolate labs on remote beaches. I could quickly acclimate myself to this lifestyle on a permanent basis, less the slobbery tennis ball caked in sand.
The island is quiet – no traffic and few sightseers. The waves come rolling in, slapping against the coast, as evening arrives. We plop ourselves down on the beach to enjoy an amazing sunset. The sun glimmering off the hull of the boat. We stare back towards the city we just came from – contemplating if we’ll ever go back….