Due to schedules that didn’t quite mesh, my daughter Shannon struck out for the second week in a row—no homemade bread for her. Instead, our friends Dawna and Jim Leavitt were the recipients of my weekly bread give-away.
In my post about clam dip and nostalgia, I wrote a bit about Dawna and Jim—how we’ve been friends long enough to watch each other’s children grow. My husband, Clif, and I met Dawna and Jim when we first moved to Winthrop, which means we’ve known them for twenty-seven years.
In the course of those twenty-seven years, we’ve done a lot of things together. We’ve gone out to eat, gone to the movies, stayed at their camp in Ellsworth, had appetizer nights and dinners at each other’s house. We went to their children’s weddings, and they came to Shannon and Mike’s.
One summer, we toured the various lighthouses of Maine for one of Dawna’s photographic projects. (Both Dawna and Jim are fine photographers.) As part of the lighthouse tour, we went to Baker Island, surely the creepiest island in Maine, where the shabby, neglected lighthouse is surround by a fence. (Chain link with razor wire, I think.) Few people live on Baker Island, and the first thing we saw was an abandoned white house with one red flower growing beside it. Feeling as though I had wandered into county Stephen King, I couldn’t wait to get off that island.
But Monhegan Island, that mecca for artists, made up for Baker Island. With its soaring cliffs, its small hilly village where the houses slant downward, and the little forest, this island has a charm that can honestly be called magical. It’s no wonder that artists such as Rockwell Kent loved to paint there.
With a friendship of twenty-seven years, you have a history, one that just seems to grow richer and richer. Now, I love my new friends. They bring zest and energy to my life. But how nice it is to have been friends with Dawna and Jim for nearly thirty years!