State O'Maine

I awake under the gaze of Victorian women long dead. Breakfast with the B&B owner I haven't met yet. He tells me a couple guys from Kyoto were here a few days back. I walk through the still sleeping town to the Marginal Way trail. I remember now how good it feels to walk. The trail winds before huge homes fortified somewhat against winter storms. Benches offer places to gaze at the Atlantic, but they all have plaques dedicating them to those who died on her temperamental waters. At the trail's far end I have a coffee, then head back to the car. I walk again soon after, along the ameoba-shaped trail of Rachel Carson State Park. All is quiet here, but for the creek of tall maples and the near silent spring of chipmunks on the trail. I stop awhile, watching a flotilla of black-headed geese cruise the perimeter of the marsh. I'm comfortable here, in an ecosystem familiar from my childhood. But there's more to see...

I follow Route 9 north awhile, twisting through beach towns with varied faces. Past homes of old wood and peeling paint. Many of these places date from early Tokugawa times. I arrive at Pine Point where I'd hoped to swim, but the temperature is a holdover from March. I feel like I've arrived at a party too early. I walk into the surf until the water reached my knees. My head is willing but I'm outnumbered two-to-one by my legs. No way. I get in the car again and move south. I'm in New Hampshire for all of 30 minutes. That's how long the coastline is. NH beaches seem to be a well kept secret, even from the locals. They are relatively unspoiled and undeveloped, when one can actually see them behind the low concrete walls or piles of gravel.

Then I'm in Massachussetts. I've already noticed that the driver's absolutely deserve the reputation they have. I just want to mention that that thing sticking out from the steering wheel is to let people know when you're going to turn. Go ahead try it. It moves up and down. Mass people seem to me to be the most unhappy in New England. And the most conservative. Correlation?

Here I'll spend a couple days....



On the turntable: Dizzy Gillespie, "Birk's Works"