Monhegan Island....My Anthill.

Summer is upon us, and those pesky back to school commercials are beginning to appear one by one.  Somehow, summertime always flies by for me, and with the warm weather comes so many things to do and see.  I must admit, I have gotten a bit sidetracked and distracted, letting the entire month of July go by without a Grown In the Garden post!  With that being said, I am eager to share two summer adventure spots with you as well as some highlights from my own garden this year.

Part One: Monhegan Island, Maine.

I returned to the island this summer, eager to continue my exploration and artistic research on the island.  Upon departing on the Elizabeth Ann boat I anticipated returning to the same island that I had watched fade into the horizon a year ago.  The weather on the island last July was perfect, crisp, clear, and sunny almost every day.  I learned about the island in this way, not really considering what it might be like in...let us just say...for example...dense fog?

I arrived that day to the Monhegan that I knew.  A world of bright red poppies swaying in the wind and surreal, painterly sunsets over Monhegan's little sister island Manana.

My first day, I was eager to get out and locate all of the places that I had remembered...this time without getting lost.  As I followed the trails up and down the rocky shore line, I discovered all different kinds of plants growing in and out of rocks.  I began to notice patterns within these little ecosystems, like how far certain plants would grow towards the water, and which ones prefered specific parts of the island.  These patterns were beginning to teach me about the landscape, and island that I was now becoming a part of.

And then, the island that I thought I was beginning to know so well, suddenly transformed as if it had disappeared into the sea.

The fog was altering the way that I was seeing things, rolling in and out in such a haunting way.  The landscape became more mysterious and dramatic, as shapes and forms were revealed in ways that were not visible when the sun was shining.  The fog also began to highlight certain seemingly invisible occurrences that I might typically pass by.

And little Manana disappeared for at least 3 days.

Then....the fog lifted.

And everything was clear again.

 

I realize that I will never fully come to know everything that there is about this magical island, though I feel like I know it and myself a little better now.  I know now what it is like, to feel like an ant wandering up and down, in and though the landscape, winding my way in and out of pathways, learning the way by sense and nothing else. 

Please stay tuned for Part Two.