Rainy Days and Mondays

Well it is quiet here this morning as I sit on the porch and write this. It is currently raining and we do need the rain. The lawns crackle under foot and the tops of the maples are so dry, the leaves are falling off as if it were late September. I do love listening to the rain pitter patter on the roof. The sound brings to mind many memories of being at camp when I was growing up. We didn't have electricity at camp, so no TVs or such to disturb the peace. We would get together and play cards, or curl up with a good book. I didn't think about the conveniences that we didn't have at camp. Therefore we really didn't mind. We have vivid imaginations and did not need to have all the rigmarole that kids feel they can't live without today, and I think it was a better place because of it. Progress is not always a good thing, or at least that is how I look at things. We were happy and content and even might go out swimming even in the rain; after all we were gonna get wet anyway!
Camp life began at my Grandparents camp on an island in North Twin Lake. I can remember hearing the train which skirted the lakes shoreline and stopped at the depot at Norcross, a little community on the south side of the lake. The trains don't run like they used to and many of the train tracks in Maine have been deserted or turned into recreational trails. The depot is long gone as well. I remember getting up in the mornings and going with Grampy in the boat over to the depot store and picking up fresh baked donuts for breakfast.
Years later my parents built a camp on the Deep Cove road on Ambejesus Lake. Our camp was located on the turning point, looking straight up Pemaduncook Lake. I will explain something; these lakes are all connected. There is Ambejesus, Deep Cove, Pemaduncook, North and South Twin Lakes, and the West Branch of the Penobscot River flows through these lakes on it's was down stream. So we were only a boat ride away from my Grandparents. Every summer the local communities seemed to migrate to the lakes. We had CBs and Base stations for contacting the outside world. Other than that we simply enjoyed Mother Nature at her very best with beautiful views of Mount Katahdin. Many a night we drifted off to sleep listening to the lonesome calls of the loons echoing across the glassy waters. I miss those days, and the rain reminds me of the past. Both of the camps have been sold a few times over and this happened to several of the camps on the lakes. I can travel on the dirt roads and not recognize any of the names on the signs anymore. It is just not the same, as with many things in the region. The paper mills which once employed 80 percent of the local population have closed and downsized, with Millinockets mill being shut down and the East mill in the process of being sold again. I worked in the East mill of Great Northern Paper Company and at the time back in the 80s there was almost a thousand employees in that mill alone. Now it is barely running with just over 300 workers. So many things have changed; again so called progress.
Don't get me wrong, we are not a desolate place;we have so very much to offer. It is just that things have changed. However the beauty of the Katahdin region is alive and well, although the economy is not. I get a kick out of watching the evening news as they talk of a recession and even the D word. Truth is many of these small communities all across the country would say we have been in a depression for quite some time! Therefore it has become even more important to remember things the ways they used to be, but still look at the positive things we still have with hope. Progress can't take away Baxter Park, or the views on top of Katahdin. It can't take away family BBQs. It can't discourage kayaking or canoeing on the many waters of the region, or a good old fashioned picnic. I give the communities a lot of credit as they have become quite creative with several celebrations and events to liven the place up too! And it all has nothing to do with progress.