This June on the Down East coast seems to be on the way to breaking the record for the number of miserable days in a month. I’m talking about unseasonably cold, foggy, and wet weather – days when our horizon was shortened to several hundred feet of dismal gray, our clothes and spirits were dampened, and our minds were having flashbacks to November.
Here, you see a huddled mass of wet tourists diligently rowing back to their sailing vessel after exploring the WoodenBoat School on a recent cold and wet June morning in Great Cove:
Having complained, I must admit that this June has had her moments. We’ve occasionally awakened in an iconic Maine June morning that made our souls ache with the simple joy of being. I’m talking about a few seasonably clear mornings when the air smelled slightly of salt and the distant horizon balanced a big blue sky atop a bluer sea that was painted with reflections of graceful creations:
But, of course, it’s raining as I write this.
(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on June 14 [rain] and 16 [shine], 2023.)