Peaks

Peaks . . . . Island that is. I had the great fortune to set off on an adventure to this small landmass off the coast of Portland, Maine. This short ferry ride is a world away from limited parking, bustling sidewalks and scorching heat bouncing off the pavement.

Bring a bike. Or rent one just off the landing. It is the sweetest way to experience the island. Had I known the sirens would be calling from the sea, I would have packed a bathing suit and sunscreen and allowed myself to be tangled to the point of immobility in the various hues and hunks of seaweed swaying just under the surface of the waves. With a bathing suit, I gleefully would have bicycled from inlet to inlet tasting the different levels of salinity and surf along the quintessential rocky Maine shoreline.

Refusing the call of the sirens, I rode landlubberly around the periphery enchanted by homes both sweet and ostentatious. I stopped on the rocks and brought the sea deep into my lungs. I absorbed so much Vitamin D I could bottle it. I loved this little island and my time there.


With a tiny amount of vehicular traffic, and surrounded by the banter of love and family, we filled our bellies at an engaging celebration and filled our hearts with a volume of new friends and took the ferry back to the mainland. A beautiful ride by all accounts.