Milkweeds and Monarchs
The fields around our home grow wild. This time of year, the yard is filled with the sweet, rich, honeyed scent of milkweed in bloom. Tiny striped caterpillars populate the stalks, munching their way through the leaves, while adult butterflies drink deeply from the milkweed, Queen Anne’s lace, and goldenrod. Their presence is a sure sign that summer is beginning to wane.
August brings a call to action, and with it, a deeper call to pause—to slow down and, like the monarchs, drink in the sweetness of summer while preparing for transformation. That is the lesson I remember whenever I see the bright orange butterflies flitting through the yard and settling on the milkweed. I am reminded of resilience, of journeys both outward and within, and of the quiet wisdom of knowing when to linger and when to let go.
In Maine, summer can almost be counted in days. August is the month when we live simultaneously in the bliss of pure summer and in the awareness that every day brings a little less daylight. Early mornings carry the first hint of autumnal reality. This is the month of good living—the sweet spot between arrival and departure, abundance and change.
Folks here on the island begin to leave for their “real lives” lived elsewhere. You can feel the pull of the final seasonal community events. Art on the Porch and the Lobster Boat Races mark the culmination of the summer festivities. The annual fairs and pancake breakfasts are past. The road races, swims to Portland, the Casco Bay Ötillö Swimrun, parades, Porchfest, and the community celebrations that fill the height of summer have come and gone.
Now it is time to savor the fruits of the garden as native plants take over perennial beds and replace the showy colors of early summer. Milkweed, goldenrod, Queen Anne’s lace, and chicory line the shoreline, accompanied by a second bloom of rugosa rose. The berries are in, and pies and scones appear on porches and at potlucks as if by magic.
Our gardens overproduce. In our eagerness to get our hands into the soil in spring, we plant far more than we could ever eat alone. So we share. On the island, zucchini, cucumbers, and tomatoes pass from hand to hand like a kind of neighborly currency. Abundance is meant to be shared.
This is the season of abundance. We feel it in the level of activity, in the crush of people, in the fullness of our days. And yet, even now, we know there is time—and there are places—to pause. Time to reflect. To hold our dear ones close. To notice the beauty around us and find a deep gratitude for the excitement, energy, and generosity of a Maine summer.
In August, on the coast of Maine, it can feel as though all things are possible. As we revel in the natural beauty of this place, we share the magnificence of a summer evening swim, a freshly harvested salad, or a well-cooked late-summer lobster. These are the storied experiences that have happened for generations along our beloved coast. And every year, I am reminded of just how fortunate I am to be right here, right now.
August is a month of rekindling relationships with family and friends. A month of savoring all that surrounds us. A month to refill my heart with gratitude for the fullness of this life—and to remember the importance of pausing long enough to notice it.
As the end of summer draws near, we redouble our efforts to squeeze every last drop of fun out of the season.
Join us for that evening picnic on the porch with our next concert featuring Emily Troll, Eric Boodmand and Yann Falquet. together was a shared love of Québécois traditional music and all the wondrous worlds within it. Bringing together two musicians who came of age in the sessions of Montreal with someone steeped in the powerhouse fiddle scene of New England, this trio will allow you to hear these tunes and songs anew.
All three musicians have long played with other groups—Falquet with Genticorum and Keith Murphy, Troll with Anadama and the Pine Tree Flyers, Boodman with Triga and Jeremiah McLane—and infuse this configuration with a unique sense of spontaneity, depth, and fun.