Last month our neighbors gifted us with a Significant Rock. It came on a Big Boom Truck – possibly the biggest vehicle to ever climb up our gravel road and I’ll stop with the capital letters now. The rock has a rather formal placement exactly perpendicular to the front of the house and lined up with one of the window bays. People have actually stopped their cars in the road and commented on it. Then they go on to mention the garden, and their garden back home, and then inquire after lobster, and really, it takes an awesome rock to stop tourists in their pursuit of local seafood. This weekend our neighbors called; “Did our rock want a life partner?”. Of course we said “Yes!”.
K’s boom truck showed up on Sunday afternoon in the pouring rain. I was on my third pair of shoes and already soaking wet, so a little more water wasn’t a problem.
Now reach into the truck. . .
And pull out a rock. . .
And confab on the placement. Because it’s not going anywhere after that webbing comes off.
A beautiful rock, nestled in blueberries. Note the worked edge – this might have been part of a foundation for a Bar Harbor “cottage” lost in the Great Fire. Now it resides with us, forever or until boom truck do us part.












The title of this piece is: “Bar Harbor in the summer, mid-morning low tide behind the shops looking toward the Schoodic Peninsula”. I have a friend who is an editor – a gifted person who can make sense of the combined history of the CIA and FBI, or sugar beets, or C++, or potty training. She has been making suggestions for my titling experiment. SP, can you help with this one?
The house sits at the top of a south-facing slope that was originally quite steep and sandy. We planted strawberries and a cherry tree there quite soon after moving in, and the ground was raw and unstable. I tried stacked rock walls and haybales and had some success with the resulting terraces, but nothing seemed to keep the whole hillside from sliding into the path at the bottom of the hill every spring.
It’s hard to see in this picture, through the strawberry plants and woodchips, but I’ve started a 
