York, Maine
Our balloon has landed on a small white, sandy beach. It's a bit chilly here, with bits of snow sticking to my cloak. My trusty servant, Newt, pointed out there must've been a storm that passed through here recently because of all the seaweed scattered on the beach. There is, indeed, a lot of sea weed around our landing site. It looks more like greenish-brown bubble wrap than a plant, and some pieces are three feet long. A vegetarian delight right here on the beach, and best of all, it's free! But sea weed isn't the only thing littering the beach.
There is a collector's mix of giant clam shells that would make the Old Woman in the Shoe jealous, and a curious, straw-like material strewn about the beach. It looks very much like straw - it is yellow, hollow, and segmented. It tastes salty, and has the same texture as straw, but I do not see any possible source of the material. The beach has almost no grass to speak of. The little bits that are firmly implanted in the sand look more like sea grass than straw, and the rose-like thorny plants accompanying them would make a wonderful little burrow for the night. How very curious this place is!
Vast groves of tall, Eastern White pine trees make a lovely backdrop for the rocky beach, and many homes line the winding road. These people live in what look like salt boxes! - tall and square in the back, with a sharply pitched roof and several dormers in the front. A few homes are tall with many windows, like a faerie hotel, but there is a walkway in front of some of the windows closest to the roof. How strange! I will have to make inquiries about these homes tomorrow.
I soon find a nice periwinkle shell to rest in, and I marvel at the absence of activity here by the shore. There are a few sea gulls dropping their dinner of mussels on the rocks, and a pair of humans being led down the shore by their dog, but little else. I have sent Newt off to find a good place to eat. We smelled something wonderful in the air as we landed, so there must be a hot fire and good bread somewhere nearby. The blustery wind, mixed with a delightful salty mist, feels quite refreshing after a long flight and I find myself dozing off.
There is a collector's mix of giant clam shells that would make the Old Woman in the Shoe jealous, and a curious, straw-like material strewn about the beach. It looks very much like straw - it is yellow, hollow, and segmented. It tastes salty, and has the same texture as straw, but I do not see any possible source of the material. The beach has almost no grass to speak of. The little bits that are firmly implanted in the sand look more like sea grass than straw, and the rose-like thorny plants accompanying them would make a wonderful little burrow for the night. How very curious this place is!
Vast groves of tall, Eastern White pine trees make a lovely backdrop for the rocky beach, and many homes line the winding road. These people live in what look like salt boxes! - tall and square in the back, with a sharply pitched roof and several dormers in the front. A few homes are tall with many windows, like a faerie hotel, but there is a walkway in front of some of the windows closest to the roof. How strange! I will have to make inquiries about these homes tomorrow.
I soon find a nice periwinkle shell to rest in, and I marvel at the absence of activity here by the shore. There are a few sea gulls dropping their dinner of mussels on the rocks, and a pair of humans being led down the shore by their dog, but little else. I have sent Newt off to find a good place to eat. We smelled something wonderful in the air as we landed, so there must be a hot fire and good bread somewhere nearby. The blustery wind, mixed with a delightful salty mist, feels quite refreshing after a long flight and I find myself dozing off.
