Tag: ferry beach

#AtoZChallenge | O is for the Ocean and the pull of a lifetime of memories.

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The memories of my life are so in step with the rhythm of the ocean that the thought of living anyplace where I couldn’t get to the coast within an hour or two makes me anxious.

My grandparents lived at the beach. My grandmother especially loved the water. It’s one of the reasons my grandfather choose to build their home next to the ocean. The salt air is good for the soul. Maine waters are chilly even in the warmest of summer days but my grandmother was undeterred and continued to swim in the ocean every summer until her health waned. She was happy at the ocean.

My mother spent her school years “in town” and not at the beach. Her grandmother and aunt lived there during those years. They were still living there when I arrived on the scene. My only memories of my visits to the house during those years were of the disturbingly vivid portrait of Jesus wearing the crown of thorns as blood streamed down his face. It hung prominently in their living room. It made an impression on me.

Eventually my grandparents moved back to their home at the beach.

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Maine Hikes | Saco Beach Loop Trail

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I grew up in Saco and am extremely familiar with Ferry Beach, but I had never hiked any of the trails at Ferry Beach State Park. I guess that’s not really surprising given I’ve only started exploring local hikes recently, but still you think I might have stumbled into the area once or twice. But no! It was unexplored territory for me. So, this past April, my husband and I decided to give it a try, and headed to the Saco Beach Loop Trail.

The Loop is really three distinct sections of separate hikes, each with their own unique look and feel. If you’re easily bored, this trail offers variety. We printed out a map that loosely outlined the loop and headed to our hike. Continue reading →

#atozchallenge | Q is for Clam Digging for Quahogs

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Having recently finished a post on blueberry picking with my grandmother, it got me a bit nostalgic. It brought back memories of another food foraging experience from my youth. My dad’s side of the family spent many summer days along the Maine coast clam digging for quahogs or hen clams.

I was lucky growing up. My mother’s parents lived next to the ocean so I spent my summers at the beach. Their home became a meeting spot for family members some of whom came for sunbathing and for others who came for clam digging.

While I was mainly a spectator, I did try clam digging a little bit as I got older, but I didn’t have the same knack for it as my Grandmother, Dad and Uncle. They were talented and could harvest clams like crazy. I was lucky if I walked away with more than ten. I guess those clam digging genes skip a generation.

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