Ogunquit granted us a gift this fall, in the form of some very fine late-summer weather that recalled our very first trip here together twenty-five years ago. Sunny and warm, with only the slightest sea breeze at the start of a long weekend, the bulk of our days were idyllic – some bit of proverbial Fontainebleau hanging on by sheer force of will.
Arriving on Thursday, our more-or-less merry band of three (Andy, Mom and myself) settled in instantly for a few days of relaxing ease in the charm and enchantment of this Beautiful Place By the Sea. Our usual magnificent room at the Scotch Hill Inn, and Anthony’s sumptuous breakfasts made for a delectable start to all of our days, and having a familiar and comforting home base is key to any real relaxation on vacation.
We got all of the cozy beauty of fall – its super-saturated flowers glowing in the golden afternoon light, its gorgeous gourd and pumpkin displays, and the various shades of turquoise, aquamarine and cerulean of its Atlantic water – all backed by a warmth of weather that usually departs by September.
Only on our last full day did the atmosphere shift incontrovertibly to autumn, with the over-teased first bands of a Nor’easter that never quite bothered us, but which provided a discernible switch from the balmy into the bittersweet, as the wind kicked up and the clouds rolled in. A number of degrees cooler was not an unwelcome downgrade; there’s nothing wrong with being seasonally appropriate, especially with so many beautiful coats to wear.
All in all, it was a lovely trip of calm and healing, remembering times with Dad and Gram, and appreciating Maine in autumn with all its raw, majestic splendor.
