Gratuitous Beauty

You were expecting to see a photo of me, weren't you? Right? Right? Hello?

Saturday we drove to Boothbay Harbor to explore the Coastal Maine Botanical Garden.

Sheer. Heaven.

It was a really cool and misty day, so after de-vanning at the Gardens and paying our admission, we promptly left and drove back into town to buy sweatshirts. Based on the whining and dramatic shivering we saw between the van and the Visitor's Center, I'm quite sure our walk through the grounds would not have been nearly as pleasant without the sweatshirts. Not that I'm naming any names of who the (two) whiners were, but they rhyme with "Hair" and "Mug."

The Garden is laid out right over several hundred acres along the Sheepscot River. We followed a two and a half mile path that wound through many different types of gardens: perennial, woodland, meditation/zen, wetland, etc. There were also spectacular wind sculptures situated in amongst the flowers.

I took this photo in the Children's Garden. I loved the contrast of the Rudbeckia against the bright aqua wall.

Bear and Bug liked the Meditation Garden. They had to "try it out."

They were also big fans of the Fairy Village where kids are invited to build fairy houses using twigs, leaves, stones, bark, and any other natural material laying around.

Being kids, they were complete lunatics for about the first 3/4 of a mile, hopping, skipping, running backwards, jumping. We advised them to conserve energy, since there was still quite a ways to go. They opted to continue cavorting like giggly mental patients.

The last half mile or so was more like the Battan Death March than Pleasant Family Hike. The same children who were previously capering about like red squirrels on crack were "exhausted." Bug's legs were "killing her." Bear claimed she "might die." The final portion of the hike is along a straight path lined beautifully with young birch trees. The staff must be pretty used to people wearing out by that point because several times we saw employees drive by on eight-seater golf carts, and they always asked pleasantly if we'd like a ride. No, Daddy Shortbread and I would say, we're enjoying the walk. Once the cart buzzed on ahead of us, Bear and Bug would look at us incredulously, faces slack with Oscar-caliber exhaustion, "WHAT? Why didn't we get a ride??" Then they would collapse dramatically on a bench while Daddy Shortbread and I continued to walk. We're really nasty, mean parents.