More beach, less baseball

[Lobster boat, just offshore]

[The sound of the sea]

[Maine's characteristic rocky coastline]

[Lobster traps, washed ashore, probably during the last storm]

[Caretaker's shack on nearby, Richmond's Island]

Summer for me has always been a choice between baseball and the beach. Other than the brief time we spent in Indiana, shortly after my religious shipwreck and departure from fundamentalism, we’ve spent very little time as a family, at the beach. With Maine’s beautiful coastline, as well as an abundance of inland lakes, it seems odd that someone who used to love his time near a body of water could forsake beach time and give himself entirely over to dusty ball diamonds.

For eight years, summer has always been about Mark’s baseball, first with American Legion games and then for the past four, the Twilight League occupied more than my fare share of my “spare” time. And then, if there wasn’t a game to be going to, I spent evenings watching games, or one of my weekend days lolling in front of the television set, giving away three hours to the Red Sox.

Yesterday, I spent a part of the morning and most of the afternoon at Crescent Beach State Park, in Cape Elizabeth, with Mary, who truly loves the beach more than anyone I’ve known. I can’t believe we haven’t spent more time, together at the beach, over the past two decades. I spent time reading a great book, about Gary, Indiana—can you believe it! We walked down the beach and climbed over the rocky jetty, where we had great views of Richmond’s Island and I thoroughly enjoyed the perfect weather and sights and sounds of the Maine coast.

It appears the Red Sox are doing fine without me and with my recent resignation as Twilight League president, I have discovered that I can carve out a block of time, a few times a month, to enjoy the beach and all that goes along with it.