Monday, October 22, 2012
So, when we talked last, I was having a rollercoaster type of a week. (Thank you for the kind words in the comments.) Some of the challenge was what was going on around me, but sometimes I think that what goes on in my head and heart determines how all the rest affects me.
So, like the rain falling in a Russian novel, perhaps all our rain and clouds and fog and mist and wind has had a cleansing effect on my outlook.
Sean’s last football game of the season was Saturday afternoon. I couldn’t believe I didn’t bring my camera. My sports shots are consistently terrible, but I’m sure I could have gotten a couple of worthwhile pictures. Our team suffered a humiliating loss. And it was against our traditional arch-rivals. Ah, well…
On Sunday morning, instead of church, we drove up the Maine coast to Castine. Evan plays “club” Lacrosse for University of Maine, and they were playing against Maine Maritime Academy.
Evan standing in his defense zone, watching a rare moment when our offense was pressuring the Mariners’ goal.
We had never been to Castine, and really knew precious little about the academy. If you have never heard of a maritime academy, it is a college-type school to train students (I think they are called midshipmen?) how to run and navigate commercial vessels. Like tankers and other huge ships. They are not a military institution, but I get the impression that they are run somewhat like one.
We went directly to the LaX game, and were immediately struck by how small the campus is. And it really looks no different to me than any other small New England liberal arts college. Old brick buildings, ivy, gardens, students running around in athletic gear. Well, and the occasional phalanx of uniformed, um, cadets? Midshipmen? Whatever, you get the idea.
The game was unmitigated disaster for Evan’s team. I’ll just say that Evan’s team did, in fact score (in the single digits). And the MMA Mariners scored in the double digits.
We got only about a 5 min visit with him after the game, as their vans were hitting the road immediately to get back to Orono.
We drove around a bit, taking in the stately homes overlooking the river as it met the Atlantic. Each one was picturesque. It was partly cloudy, and the sun would peek between and around the dark saturated clouds, with startling frequency.
You’d be warm and remove your jacket, and then the breeze would kick up, and the sun would be obscured and you’d put it back on. The foliage is probably just past its peak, but it would come alive in the direct sunlight, to best advantage when it had clear blue sky for a backdrop. Then in the overcast, the subtlety of the colors would yearn for your attention, and as your eyes adjusted, the texture and detail would gain prominence, lovely to behold. You’d forget that the colors were supposed to be past peak, and you’d breathe in the crisp autumn musk and sigh.
And that was just part of the day!