A Sebago Sabbatical

Humming of the wind tenderly rustling the trees. Hushed lappings of the lake against a rocky shoreline. Nature at her sweetest and most calm. There is so much serenity here I don’t know how to behave. My city-saturated body wants to melt into a blob on the dock and just be. It also wants to wrestle with my inner romantic and buzz around on caffeine, write some prose, paint some pictures and harvest this inspired creativity. I truly have a breath of fresh air, ready to cleanse my mental palette, but I just don’t know how to expend it yet.

I tried my hand in fishing, even bought a red rod to match the red streak in my hair, and figured I would just sit for an hour to see what happened. I didn’t make a sound as to not scare the bounty below but that lasted for about two minutes. Meddling in contemplation seemed wonderful, but my romantic side decided to be daring. I fished with beef jerky and sugar-coated peach candy rings. I don’t think this worked with the Navajo’s.

My Sebago-ADD is kicking in and it’s about dinnertime.

To be continued, but here are some lovely representational photos in the meantime.

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