Mesmerizing, Marvelous, Memorable Maine

Mesmerizing, Marvelous, Memorable Maine

I wiggled excitedly in my car seat. We were driving to Maine to visit my grandparents! I hadn’t seen them in a long time, but I thought the thing that was causing me to squirm were the adventures that were laid before me – the beach, the botanical gardens, and the sandbars.

“Hi, Grandma!” I cried as I ran from the car to hug her. “How are you?”

“Hello, dear! I’m just so glad you’re here. Oh, hi, Kimberly! Come in, Paul. So happy you’re here!” She led us to the dining room, where my grandpa greeted us in his big, hearty voice. We all seated at the table, drinking in all the scrumptious aromas. My grandma whisked into the kitchen and brought out a steaming egg and sausage casserole. As we nibbled at the savory dish, my grandma suggested, “Kimberly and Paul, could I take the girls to First Beach? It’s not very far away from here.” My parents nodded, and my sisters and I clasped our hands in joy. After my grandma passed around a sweet walnut cake, we started to bring stuff for the beach. My sisters and I squirmed into our swimsuits and folded towels in a bag.  My younger sister, Lauren, held a little sand truck with her while my older sister, Alana, and I carried buckets to collect seashells. We headed for the beach, slicked on some sunscreen, and dove into the water. After splashing around for a bit, Lauren started sculpting sand, whereas Alana and I searched for shells on the shore. I spotted glittering rocks, matte sea glass, and ridged shells. I heaped tens of them into my bucket excitedly. Curiously, Alana and I examined each other’s collection. I shaped all my sea glass into a fish, and Alana placed her shell collection in the form of “I <3 ME”. We played a bit more at the beach before we returned home. I had had a fantastic time at the beach.

“Today we’re visiting the Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens!” my grandma announced cheerfully as she set down breakfast.

“Cool!” I responded. “I’ve never seen a botanical garden before. What is it like?”

“Oh, you’ll see,” her eyes sparkled. I yanked on my apparels, brushed my hair and teeth in a twinkling, and bounced into the car. On the way, I tried to envision how it looked. Maybe it was like a greenhouse filled with potted plants. When we arrived, I skipped upon a dust and gravel path. As I entered an iron gate, I was mesmerized. Dainty, gorgeous petals and glossy, fresh leaves abounded everywhere. Sweet, strawberry lilies; bright, sunny daffodils; white, pure baby breaths; and so much more plants dotted the landscape. My grandpa stopped every few plants and explained about herbs, flowers, and vegetables. Delighted, I showered myself with quaint stone sprinklers in the shape of whales and dinosaurs; my grandpa, Lauren, and I got tangled up in winding mazes and paths; and my grandma, my mama, and I exclaimed in chorus over glittering ponds with creamy water lilies, graceful reeds, spotted frogs, and swift fish. We explored other adventurous sightseeing areas, such as a wigwam, a bear cave, a fairy village, a play schoolhouse, a real chicken coup, and a water pump. We enjoyed ourselves immensely, and I was reluctant to leave. However, my mama permitted me to buy a souvenir at the Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens Shop. I chose a pair of violet gardening gloves. While we drove home, I smiled as I thought about my wonderful experience.

“Pa, can we please row the boat? Just for a little! And, after all, our vacation is almost over!” my sisters and I pleaded.

“It’s raining outside, girls. We can’t go rowing in the rain,” my father retorted.

“Yes, we can!” we persisted.

Exhausted of much debate, my father sighed, “Fine, we’ll go.”

“YAY!” we rejoiced. He strolled out to the float to unhitch the boat while my mother packed. Since it was low tide, I had to help my father push the boat out of the sticky mud. It was extremely difficult work, but we succeeded. Soon we pushed off and were sailing. My father rowed in the middle while Alana and I rowed in the front. I loved to watch the paddle dip into the glassy green ocean and lift gracefully out as it sprinkled drops onto the glassy surface. The rain spattered harder on my skin, and we spied five ducks still swimming out in the rain.

My father pointed at them, “You see those five crazy ducks, swimming in the rain? That’s who we are. And that big duck in the front is me. And those four other ducks are you guys. Yes, five crazy ducks.” We giggled and started to joke about it. My mother suggested that we row over to the sandbars opposite of the house. My father consented, and we glided over the smooth water glibly. When we reached it, we discerned some puny holes in the sand.

“They’re clam holes!” my mother confirmed. We delved into the silky soft sand and uncovered many clams. At first I broke the fragile shells, but I learned to burrow warily around the shells to prevent them from being smashed.

“Look at mine! It’s so fat!” Lauren exclaimed in admiration.

“Ooh, I feel something!” I shouted. I scooped out an exquisite baby clam. Alana and I found five holes right next to each other, so we shoveled all of them with our hands into one huge hole. In that hole we found 24 clams! It was an awesome record.  In about half an hour, we had 30 to 40 clams and started to row back. My mother steamed the clams, and then we dipped them in butter for lunch. I devoured mine happily, gazing out the window at the sandbars.

As we waved goodbye to ocean, I recalled all my adventures – visiting the beach, going to the botanical gardens, and clamming at the sandbars – and decided that my vacation to Maine had been marvelous and memorable.