Index
Northwestern Wilderness Of Maine
Personal Essays
Standing Tip-Toe With Great Expectations
During the early 1960s, as a young teenager, it was easy to get excited about adventure. The surrounding territory was a boys dream. No matter what direction you faced, there was adventure hidden somewhere around a turn in a woods trail, beyond the shore of a lake, or perhaps a hike the thousand feet to the center of town. Where ever I faced, I stood tip-toe with great expectations of exploration.
Maryland had its share of pine trees, my dad even planted some on the wastelands of our farm. The school was built on the edge of town, on pasture land. The school in the Northwestern Wilderness Of Maine was built on the edge of wilderness, you could look out the window and see tall roughed pines, you knew the lake was just beyond them.
Even the seasons were exciting. We moved during the first week of spring. Our new home was on the shore of Big Wood Pond. There was ten foot drifts in the driveway. I wondered if spring had this much snow, what will summer look like. Soon the warm spring sun started to melt the snow and ice. Flowers bloomed and the leaves of the trees unfolded into beautiful shades of green.
Usually when it was time for the seasons to change, you were ready, eagerly waiting for nature to settle into each new season. When the ice roared from the lake, you couldn't wait to glide across the water in a canvas guides canoe, or row in a row-boat, some days you would even enjoy a lazy ride steering an outboard motor.
Crossing the lake was fun, but no where near as much fun as exploring the shoreline. Everything was fresh and new. Some places along the island shores were large cliffs to climb and spy on fishermen, as the cruised by, unaware of someone watching.
It was always a contest to see who would be the first one swimming each spring. The water was actually far too cold, but we rushed to take the plunge, clothes and all.
Summer visitors would come to the Northwestern Wilderness and open up their camps and stay the summer. It was always great to see the regulars and meet new guest they brought along with them.
Around the middle of August, trout fishing stopped in all of the rivers and streams. The summer guest bundled up their cabins for the winter, packed up their gear and went home.
Some years we had indian summers, but usually the cold autumn days were average and it didn't take long for the leaves to turn and drop off. Before you knew it, you were back in school.
The forest are probably the most beautiful during spring and autumn.I remember the farm life was usually busy with spring planting and fall harvesting.
I think out of all the seasons, I enjoyed winter the most. It was cold, but as a young teenager I had more freedom to walk where ever I wanted to, as long as I had snowshoes or skis.
Its never too late to stand tip-toe with great expectations of exploration. It could be in the Northwestern Wilderness Of Maine, or anywhere in the world. You could even compare the seasons.