Adventure Awaits

Independent is a strong word. It evokes a sense of pride and accomplishment.

Alone, on the other hand, evokes the feeling of an absence or an isolation from others, not the freedom that comes with being independent.

Independent and alone. They are words with opposite connotations, but I've discovered that comfort can be found in both.

Saturday, July 22, 2023

Driving up the interstate through Connecticut, Massachusetts, New Hampshire, and into Maine, with my playlist blasting, I tried not to think about everything that could go wrong; my fifteen-year-old Civic breaking down, a rogue deer or moose running across the highway, being stranded alone in some isolated place. I focused on the road, reminding myself that I was excited to reach my destination: a writing retreat in Lunenburg, Nova Scotia, a solo road trip I had been looking forward to all year.

After six hours of driving, I stopped along the coast of Maine at Moose Point State Park and decided to take a quick walk through one of the trails.

Later that night, I settled into a little cottage in Hampden and mentally prepared myself for another long day of driving. I had originally planned to continue north over the border into New Brunswick to Nova Scotia, but the updates on the torrential rains across Nova Scotia forced me to reconsider. Many roads were closed due to the flooding and damaging washouts. It seemed like jumping on the ferry to Yarmouth was a better idea than navigating detours on unfamiliar roads. Luckily, there were still spots on the ferry for the following morning. With my nerves eased, I now prepared myself for the anxiety that came with driving my car onto a ferry for the first time.

Sunday, July 23, 2023

The salt lingered in the air, and I tasted the ocean before I could see the harbor as I walked the streets in Bar Harbor. The waves crashed against the rocky beach as the seagulls called, evidence that the water was nearby. I took my time and sat on a bench, devouring a much-anticipated lobster roll before heading to the ferry terminal.

Of course, boarding the ferry was much easier than my anxious brain had made me believe. Growing up on Long Island and going to college in Connecticut, I had been on a ferry more times than I could count, but not a ferry that crossed the open Atlantic Ocean. The ferry ride gave me over three hours to read and enjoy the refreshing ocean air, instead of spending another eight hours cramped in the car.

It was not surprising that I had to pay for my overthinking once I arrived in Yarmouth. I had arrived extra early to board the ferry in Bar Harbor and being one of the first cars on meant being one of the last cars off. I waited in line for customs for two hours as the sun dipped below the horizon and my concerns about driving in the dark rose. I still had another two and a half hours to the lakeside Airbnb in Mahone Bay.

After having my pepper spray confiscated unexpectedly, I was officially the last car out of customs with the gate closing behind me. I took a deep breath and began my 140-mile journey to Mahone Bay in darkness. With each passing minute, my nerves unraveled. I was calmed by the night, driving on winding roads over hills and through pockets of fog where the thicket of evergreens was a blur of dark green without the gray of faded billboards, where the roadside wasn't littered with discarded fast-food containers. There weren't many lights, only the stars and a slender crescent moon above.

The crunching of gravel, chirping of crickets, and rustling of leaves were the only sounds as I pulled up to the lakeside cottage, the day turning into tomorrow. No rushing of traffic, no screaming sirens, no thumping bass from a neighbor's stereo. Just silence. At the lake, the water reflected the clear night sky, unobscured in the absence of bright city lights. Out there, the stars sparkled, they weren't dimmed or dulled. Everything was quiet, still, unaltered. The way the world should be.

Monday, July 24, 2023

I am definitely not a morning person, but if I had the opportunity to witness the beautiful sunrise over the lake like I had that first morning, then I might reconsider my sleeping habits.

Excited for the first day of the writing retreat, I woke up with the sun. Our retreat leader, Lynne, hosted the retreat at the hilltop house in Lunenburg she had rented for the month. The house was on a beautiful and private piece of land with amazing views, the perfect atmosphere for writing.

As I've experienced from previous writing retreats, the comradery of the writers in Nova Scotia was so wonderful and reassuring. It's easy to get lost in the process of writing and I'm always comforted to know that I am not alone in my struggles. Finding such generous people with the same mindset and aspirations is so heartwarming. Each day was filled with generative writing time and trips along the coast.

Our first group trip was to the Ovens Natural Park. It was a lovely day to walk the trails along the cliffs and listen to the waves crashing against the rocks.

After a busy first day, I headed back to my lakeside Airbnb and sat on the dock to enjoy the sunset.

Tuesday, July 25, 2023

We drove north to Halifax to write in the public gardens, meet a local author, and tour the Halifax Central Library. But first we made a quick stop at the Titanic Grave Site. As someone who has been fascinated with the Titanic since elementary school, this was an amazing place to see.

Then we stopped to write in the public gardens, a peaceful place in the heart of a busy city.

After writing in the gardens, we met a local author and toured the Halifax Central Library, which was the most impressive library I have ever seen!

Trying to be more spontaneous, I decided to stick around for dinner and take advantage of the impromptu trip down the coast of St. Margarets Bay with a few other writers.

Wednesday, July 26, 2023

Wednesday was the first day I had time to explore, so I took a ride into Lunenburg for a walk and ice cream before heading back to the Airbnb for some outdoor writing.

In the evening, I met up with the other writers for a relaxing kayaking excursion through the waters around the islands in Millers Pass. I was a little nervous since it was my first time in a kayak, but it was a great experience.

Thursday, July 27, 2023

Having more time to explore on my own, I drove through Mahone Bay and then north towards Oak Island. Unfortunately, Oak Island was closed to the public, but I still managed to find some treasures along the way.

As I sat down in town, I was shocked to see my submission to the Vocal Past Life Challenge on the list of winners as a runner-up! I celebrated my first Vocal achievement with a sweet frozen lemonade.

Friday, July 28, 2023

On my last full day in Nova Scotia, I said a bittersweet goodbye to the other writers and made the most of my time outdoors.

Saturday, July 29, 2023

I wasn't ready to leave this beautiful place, but I admired one last sunrise before heading back to the U.S.

After another ferry ride, I was back in Bar Harbor. I grabbed lunch and headed to Acadia National Park since I couldn't pass up the opportunity to stop. I drove along the park road, stopping multiple times to take in the beauty of the landscape. I could have stayed there indefinitely. Nothing beats the experience of standing on the rocks, watching and listening to the cyclic push and pull of waves.

Sunday, July 30, 2023

On my last morning in Maine, I took my time and read on the screened porch before heading home.

I could write thousands of more words trying to adequately describe the personal significance of this trip. I let the pictures tell the story in this piece, but the pictures alone don't truly capture the experience. In the end, this trip was full of reminders and affirmations.

Make yourself a priority.

Give yourself permission to be selfish.

Listen to your own voice, don't feel pressured by the voices of others.

Just keep writing.

Follow your passions without fear or regret.

You are allowed to feel proud of your accomplishments.

You are capable, you are independent, you are enough.

Adventure awaits when you open yourself to the possibilities.