Talk about varied weather this summer! Wanting to write the Sprucewold column before the weekend began, I situated myself with my Mac out on the front porch. I knew I could count on being inspired by the daily sights of Linekin Bay. The sun was out and I’d just been for a swim. From my seat on the old glider, I scanned the bay for activities. Oddly, it was quiet. No sign of the usual fleet of sailboats from the Linekin Bay Resort, no paddle boarders, no one skimming by in a kayak. There were, however, a number of cruising boats heading up the bay to one of the LBR moorings. And then the wind shifted to the north, the temperature dropped, and rain began. I rushed to the clothesline to rescue towels and bathing suits and then to the cabin to close up windows.

And so I’m inside. There’s been only a little rain so far, but it’s 10 degrees cooler. No one is complaining; it’s wonderful to be here, whatever the conditions at the moment.

I’ll echo Ralph Kimball’s enthusiasm in a recent Sprucewold column for the great opening cocktail party on the Linekin Heights Green. As our community grows and changes, it’s fun to reconnect with old friends and to welcome new ones.

It’s everyone’s hope that all who own cabins in Sprucewold will be sure to become members of the Sprucewold Association. In addition to at least two regular social events, members of the association benefit from the winter watchman program and can be part of the annual meeting, where the association’s Executive Board shares information and invites community participation in decision-making. This year, the annual meeting is scheduled for Saturday, Aug. 1 at 10:30 a.m. on the Linekin Heights Green, to be followed that evening by the traditional potluck from 5 to 7. If you’re new or new-ish and would like to become a member of the association, I’d be glad to put you in touch with the person who will sign you up and receive your $75 dues check.  (You can email me at maryotto13@gmail.com.)

The beach has been busy, with a reported 30 cars along the road on a few of the recent hot days. Morning walkers, with their varieties of dogs, are regulars on our roads. Those who chug up the Crest Avenue hill from Lobster Cove (aka “Brutality” or “Cardiac”) often pause to check in on the delightful artistic stonework of Crest Ave resident Ron, on the right as you near the top of the hill. What a creative neighbor!

By this time in the summer, most of us are through the rituals of arriving at the cabin. David and I came in mid-June, joined by daughter Libby, though daughter Susan and her husband had already done a number of opening tasks during an earlier visit. We all know the cabin intimately. Putting away food in the old kitchen comes naturally. It’s this cabinet for coffee and dry goods; cereal and crackers are stacked on top of the fridge. The large fruit basket sits on the table. Everyone living here over the course of a summer can find what they need. Anyone can put together a meal.  We are all—oftentimes three generations of us—at home here.

Additional routines of reconnection include the walk, always the same long, hilly route, and the first swim. Imagine my disappointment this year when I had traipsed down the path to the dock, tossed the swim ladder over the edge, and heard Libby, only steps behind me, caution, “jellyfish!”  These were not the usual small variety, but the larger and newly troublesome “Lion’s Mane” version. I was stung last year, so waiting for them to leave was prudent.

We are all grateful for this deep sense of familiarity. Still, there are challenges. Over the winter, we had extensive caulking done between the logs, our attempt to keep out the driving rain of a next Nor’easter.  We always have to anticipate the minor damage of mice and squirrels. Yet we never—until this year—have had to consider the possibility of vandalism. The theft early in the spring of our network of old copper piping under the cabin was a most unwelcome development. But so it is in our world today, and we go on.

For me, days at the cabin offer so much. After walking, I sit for breakfast on the porch. The sun has risen high enough by then that the table is in the shade. I pay attention. The wind picks up and the sun on the waves sparkles brightly, as if stars were glistening just below the surface. Now and then a seal appears. Gulls cry out, and osprey too. Occasionally herons fly by, or an eagle.  For sure, there are elements of magic here.

And now a sad post script: I have just received word of the death of a dear Sprucewold friend, Sherry LaBelle, on Saturday, July 18. Sherry and Ernie have been year-round Beach Road residents for many years; both have been deeply engaged with the community. Ernie’s contact information is in the directory. I trust that the richness and beauty of Sprucewold will offer comfort to Ernie and his family.