The Incredible Journey

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 “We must not cease from exploration and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we began and to know the place for the first time.” –T.S. Eliot

Fenway

Road Trip, Week 6: New England and Newer England

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• Driving Tunes: Pretty much NPR and Canada's version of it
• Books: The Golden Apples of the Sun by Ray Bradbury, 1984 by George Orwell, Anne of Green Gables by L.M. Mongomery
• Wildlife: Foxes, turtles, a raccoon, and buffalo (or bison to be more precise)
• Food: Garibaldi's pizza, amazing sushi with an even amazing-er menu, fish and chips, popovers, lobster stew, lobster omelette, lobster roll, chowdah, homemade blueberry ice cream, and a whoopie pie courtesy of the old lady bake sale  
• Sights that didn't quite make the blog: Star-lit Yale with my starlet friend, Portsmouth's pallet of wood-siding houses, Bar Harbor, the red dirt roads of Prince Edward Island, "Free camping in the Shire", massive fields of lupine, the Canadian perspective on the War of 1812, the Lake of Shining Waters
• Friends: Gabriel Jones, Jillian Taylor, Mickey Theis

Worth Several Thousand Words

Well, let's hope the adage rings true this time, because keeping up to date with my writing has suffered a little lately.

Blackbeard's real treasure: sunset over Ocracoke Island

  

On Jordan Pond: Lunch time at Acadia National Park

Acadia from Cadillac Mountain, highest point on the Atlantic Coast and therefore the first place in America to catch sunlight

The aptly-named Northeast Harbor

The Margaret Todd, a four-masted schooner that I sailed in (a la "What About Bob?") 

"Dr. Marvin, guess what? Ahoy, I sail, I'm a sailor, I sail!"

Climbing the Beehive...

For this view.

A candle on the water (I actually drove through Passamaquoddy, Maine.)

The Bay of Fundy has the world's largest tides--up to 50 feet at places like the famous Hopewell Flower Pot Rocks.

Farms + Ocean = Prince Edward Island

French River, PEI

Green Gables, restored based off of the book's description

On Broadway

While I was in New York I went to see Peter and the Starcatcher, a prologue to the Peter Pan story with a sort-of steam punk feel to it.  I had picked up a ticket earlier that day at the half-price booth and had misread the seat location, so imagine my surprise when the usher escorted me to the very first row (close enough to see all the spit and sweat of performers giving it their all; "Theatre is juicy," explained my starlet friend Jill).  The play had won 5 Tony Awards the previous night, including Best Featured Actor in a Play going to the actor who plays Black 'Stache, the once-and-future Captain Hook.  On a tiny stage (by Broadway standards) the twelve-member cast created an entire world out of ropes, a few passenger trunks, and a ladder. It was beyond brilliant.  

As I walked away that night, alone in my thoughts despite the Times Square hordes, I felt that sweet and sad  sense that I had experienced something that would never happen again--kind of an in-the-moment nostalgia.

I think that's just about the best feeling in the world.

Damn Yankees

Those two blue blurs with their hands on their heads in the upper left corner: that's Johnny and me gaping as the Bronx Bombers walked-off in the last game of the Subway Series. Tie game. Bottom of the ninth. Full count. It was like a No Fear t-shirt gone bad.  But I have to admit, the place was pretty pretty amazing.