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Retired publishing executive ecstatic with the idea of spending most of his time on the coast of Maine

Wednesday, July 9, 2008


The other day we actually walked through the village of Owls Head, parking the car in the lighthouse lot and walking back. Not much here: the general store, the post office, a library open 5 hours a week, and of course the paraphernalia of fishing - the town dock, traps and barrels, skiffs, lobster pound, boats at their moorings. Apparently, Owls Head un-developed itself. A hundred years ago it bustled a bit, with inns and restaurants and dance halls and the train that brought sand-seekers directly to Crescent Beach. Isn't Maine increasingly relying on the tourists? Why are we blessed?

We sat for a while at the picnic tables on the dock. The building behind us looked suspiciously like it once was a clam shack, with something like a take-out window. "Wouldn't it be great..." we started to say. Nah, then the lighthouse people would come down here too.

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