Each day in Maine is perceptibly a little shorter than the last. The leaves are still green and the air is still warm -- or as warm as it ever is -- but it's time to think about heading home. Across the Gulf of Maine again -- in hurricane season this time -- and back down into Cape Cod Bay and through that awful canal and down Buzzards Bay and through the scary Race and into Long Island Sound, which is of course practically home.
It's nice here in Maine but there is that itch to be afloat again, which raises the perennial question of why we do this crazy stuff.
Penelope's brother-in-law, Ted, a wonderful fellow who hails from Australia originally, is going to schlep up to Maine and keep me company for the first few days -- that long passage across the Gulf of Maine, when a comrade who can take the helm is particularly welcome.
We will be casting off the mooring and setting sail again in a day or two.