While the trillium had already gone to seasonal slumber, not to be waked until next spring, all the dahlias of the town were still in full bloom and taking full advantage of the sunny, balmy days. The entrance to the Marginal Way is bordered by a long garden maintained by one of the main hotels – they always do an amazing job of planting interesting items (Dad once procured a stash of love-lies-bleeding seeds from a stand of Amaranthus). Within this border was a grand selection of dinner plate dahlias exploding in form and color. It was a beautiful invitation to one of our favorite walks to take.
The Marginal Way meandered along the coast of Maine, still scented by a few remaining sea roses and accented by asters and the seed pods of milkweed. This magical stretch is actually more colorful in the fall than in the spring – one of the recompenses of the season before the winter.
Sky and clouds conspired to paint a spectacular backdrop to the scene; often the sky is a muted gray, overcast with a dull monotonous barely-ombre gradation in October. This weekend we lucked out with a vividly blue firmament, accented by a few puffy white clouds.
We made our way all the way to Perkins Cove, where we stopped in a few of the shops before heading back along the way we had come. It always seems a shorter walk on the way back, which used to strike me as odd given that we were already tired out – now it seems to be over just a little too soon. Walks in beauty never last long enough.
Later on in the weekend, I’d return to the Marginal Way on my own, nearer to our last day there. I recall to mind our first trip there, when Andy and I were barely a couple, having known each other just over a month, and somehow already happily intertwined and sharing adventures together. Being in Ogunquit already brings me back to that moment, grounding me in exactly where I should be, where I am happiest and at my most calm and content.
