Good morning!
It’s Sunday—and here in my corner of Maine, it’s a very special Sunday.
We’re sitting at a picnic table overlooking the Bagaduce, a tidal river that feeds into Penobscot Bay. The air smells of salt water, low tide, and such a specific aroma of fryolator that I could pinpoint our location even if you blindfolded me. It’s one of the earliest s…
