Nothing Better

When I told my friend Ruth, who has a summer house up here on the island and has literally spent every summer of her life here, about the lack of blueberries at the Carroll Homestead, she was sympathetic and offered to take all of us picking at a spot she knew. "It's part of the Land and Garden Preserve," she said, "so dogs can be off-leash after 4. There are also some places where they can swim." 

Blueberry picking, hiking with the dogs off-leash, and a chance for them to swim were a trifecta of activities for our group, and we eagerly agreed to meet her at the carriage road parking lot near Little Long Pond this afternoon. After a short hike through the woods, the trail dropped down to the pond and followed the shore north. We stopped at a newly-constructed beach with a bench where dogs were welcome to swim. The field sloping down toward the lake from the forest above was covered in low-bush blueberries and tiny roses. 

While Rosie and Jasmine swam, Lucy ran from the shore to the fields, checking in with those of us who were sitting in the fragrant shrubs, picking berries and chatting. A cool breeze blew across the pond, and we could hear laughter from people who were swimming at the former Rockefeller boathouse on the opposite shore. A loon called from down the pond, and Ruth and I bantered about which mountains we could see from where we were. (They were Cadillac, the Bubbles, Penobscot, and a wee bit of Sargent behind it.)

In less than an hour, we had a few pints of berries, and the dogs were tired, so we packed up and headed back up the hill to the trail through the woods. It was another nearly perfect afternoon in Maine.