That's one of the slogan of the Pine Tree State, also known as Maine.
For the second weekend in a row, we had the chance to spend time with friends with whom we have England connections and writing connections. They live in London and have a summer house in coastal Maine, less than 2.5 hrs from the Lodge.
After some catching up at the house, we headed off to the dock at Five Islands, where the teenage boys like jumping off the pier into frigid waters and the predatory seagulls look like they might yank the lobster roll right out of your hand and the boats arriving at the wharf are there to unload more lobsters.
Then it was on to Popham Beach...not the State Park one but the other one.
We had a lovely walk along the long, long beach. The Chap inadvertently stepped on somebody's beach art.
The beachcombers create interesting structures with driftwood.
I remember this house from last time. It appears to be vacant. I suppose the right person hasn't come along. The right person would need a boat, because it's on an island.
We headed back to the spot we'd claimed on arrival and sat down to watch passing boats and seals and cormorants and a distant eagle and beach dogs. And the chaps of all ages headed for the beach shop and bought ice cream cones and frappes. I requested Moose Tracks but my Chap's Peppermint Stick was delicious (he let me have a taste.) We had to eat our cones quick, before the contents melted.
The sunset sky was spectacular. Unfortunately I don't have photos, but I doubt they'd have done it justice anyway.