When you live in a rural under populated, not spoiled or over developed state like Maine, there is a greater awareness of your surroundings.
An increased respect for what God has provided, entrusted you and me with for a natural setting.
We strive to be good stewards in Maine, pass along those natural surroundings in as good, or better shape than we received them.
Raising a family, working on deeper, richer relationships with those brought in to your life are all intricately tied to Maine’s changing four seasons too.
As the water opens and ice gives way around my Maine lake home, the word spreads to ducks first. That land in pairs with more and more quack quack announcements heard from overhead. Precision skidding stops in the limited open water openings in early spring on a Maine lake as the ice thins, retreats, disappears.
Heard sea gulls along the South Shore last night when I returned for supper.
Lots of them noisily chatting louder to be heard over the other just like a Mooers family reunion. As they meet and greet from a long winter absence. I wait patiently for the main attraction, headliner act though. Performances from Maine loons that steal the show.
The single Maine loon’s forlorn, melancholy cry while you listen in bed, drifting off to sleep hits you deeply. Sometimes shrill, in a chorus or performing a solo. Creating a sadness, a sense of all alone that any of us can relate to at some low point in our lives.
Other times the Maine loon call amplifies, carries across the flat, bottle like lake surface.
And causes your heart to swell with hope, dreams, love. Love that endures and deepens with unity. A sense of oneness, purpose in a relationship. If you see the process, respect the institution, were shown what a good one looks like growing up.
Much of what happens to us in Maine is outdoors where we strive to be as much as possible. During my five am morning walk today living on a Maine lake, before sitting down to study a daily lesson, I was greeted by a symphony of returning song birds. I am excited to see my first robin return from being away from Maine for the winter.
My Mom loved the “birdie with the yellow bill that hopped up on her window sill”. Faithfully kept her bird feeders at the Maine farm full of sunflower seeds to provide nourishment for song birds of all types.
As you reflect on life, the event memories are recalled with a sense of keen clarity in Maine.
Because they are all each tied to one of those seasons. Nature that is not man made, store bought or artificially mass produced. And we always strive to spend as much time as possible outdoors. So a season’s change reminds of earlier good and even not so good times. Like a loss of a loved one.
Maine lake home owner Tana McNutt shared with Paul MacIlroy she had seen her first loon already this spring. And Paul mentioned this morning how loons sometimes crash on highways thinking the gray, silver ribbon is a river or lake opening, clearing.
He said traveling back from Millinocket when working as a plumber for Smith Brothers he stopped to help a stranded loon on Interstate 95.
Had to chase it three times as it tried to take off. But failed, then skidded on the tar to a stop when it could not get airborne.
Paul used a towel to cover, contain the injured loon. While Obed Smith wrapped copper wire around the loon’s beak. Then held the wire down while transporting, playing ambulance to keep the bird’s head low. Paul’s job to firmly hold that towel wrapped around the bird. To keep the loon calm, in the dark, quiet. And more importantly from beating itself, everyone in the pickup to pieces with its large, strong, scared wing span.
The loon got repositioned safely to the outlet of Cochran Lake after an adventurous hour long ride in the pick up.
It was a three man job, rescue mission. Watch out for Maine loons if you water ski, boat, sail, sea doo or spend any time around the waterfront in Vacationland.
I drag my heels to leave the Maine lake home mornings. And can not wait to return at supper time to recharge, relax, feel an overwhelming inner peace and healing power of the Maine lake. I get answers, help in sorting out thoughts, feelings and directions life is taking me as an empty nester.
A Maine lake is like an old friend, a familiar setting with the giant pine tree on the point much older than I am still standing constant guard. You can hear, see the wind in the whispering pine needles movement, sway.
That huge lone pine has weathered more storms than me and is a comfort.
Trees know the meaning of patience. You can figure out what matters in life. Where you went right, where you swerved wrong and why studying that tree, the surroundings around a Maine lake help your focus. So needed correction, wisdom, adjustment can be applied to what needs to be done daily on life’s journey ahead of you. Contemplated on a Maine lake no matter what season, what the weather.
You work harder at being a better person because you can figure things out clearly without confusion, too hectic a pace of busyness.
You can hear and talk to God. Bring him your joys, concerns, troubles. To empty your heart of the junk we sometimes gloss over but never really address until you bottom out, get broken and reach out for much needed, over due help, attention.
Or now that time allows the repair once kids are up and out. The two youngest are both white water raft guides this summer and won’t be home. One in the Forks, the other in Colorado. And happy as a clam to be on the river. Being on their own.
You pray, study, meditate and learn wisdom on a Maine lake alone. It is a therapeutic place, a fun four season recreation spot to laugh, cry, excercise your body and your heart, mind, soul. To collect puzzle pieces. Receive crystal clear answers that usually wake you out of a sound sleep at three am with a tip of your toes to the top of your head wash of knowledge, understanding, perspective.
The tree buds are bulging, expanding, getting ready to burst with new growth. I have a cord of word ordered for outdoor fires that go so well with the loon symphony, the velvet night sky dotted with sparkling stars, a full moon and the sound of lapping water after a good day under the sun. With a Maine lake for a neighbor, a friend.
I am so humble, grateful, speechless to be blessed with a Maine lake home.
And hope my kids maintain, keep it, use it and pass it on to the next generation. To teach them the healing qualities and fun times with family and friends of being next to the water. The importance to make time for spending time on a regular basis next to some still water.
I am anxious for nothing and have all I need on a Maine lake and recite the scripture of Philippians 4:6 to put the prayer in to practical application. A Maine lake is a great place to learn about being a peacemaker. To be less stubborn, less defensive and how to surrender to achieve an inner peace.
You do not look to others to make you happy in life, to meet all your needs.
Many of which only God can provide. Realizing this avoids disappointment and bitterness when others seemingly let you down. Don’t get angry when others fail you.
Get on your knees, stay there. Prayerlessness leads to confusion when we try to fix conflict on our own. Often the way we handle a conflict creates a bigger hurt than the original problem. Get on a Maine lake. It is working for me!