In the afternoon we walked around the town of Corea and indeed tried to go to the cottage where Rich lived and wrote just outside of town on Cranberry Point. A chain across the lane said "Private." We didn't breach. Apparently, the owners guard the place carefully from Maine groupies like me, although they do rent it out to suitably respectful, well-vetted types, according to the owner of Corea's antique shop Old Good Goods. Pilgrimages these days take money, and special access. Worship is not free.
Corea is a lovely and quiet town. One of the many things that strikes me about Down East is its un-pretension. A tiny house like this often sits on a million-dollar view. The sea is a fact of life, not a movie set.
And any town that still has an active grange must be the real thing.
Then evening come on, and some clouds, and perhaps even a bit of rain to mark our last night Down East. When can we go back?