First, I’m back. No explanations; no excuses. I have missed the therapeutic art of writing and the connection to my food family. I had the best summer and autumn of my life-picking wild blueberries, chatting it up by the fire pit overlooking the sea, devouring succulent lobster, planting and harvesting an organic garden, preserving the bounty, cooking up a storm, baking bread, meeting Maine chefs and authors, collecting sea glass down by the shore, making new friends and creating new memories. It’s been a blast.
But with the beginning of a new year, it’s time to get re-focused and energized. As I shared with you this time last year, First Light is a remarkable way to experience a new beginning and search for optimism, regardless of the previous year’s trials, tribulations, heartaches and struggles. By 5:45 am on January 1, 2009, a group of 14 hearty souls had gathered in our kitchen. The outside temperature was a bone chilling 1 degree and the wind was howling, sending tremors through the windows facing the shoreline. Yet, with the fire roaring in the fireplace, coffee brewing and the smell of bacon sizzling in the cast iron pan, our friends were content to hang out, chat and anticipate their inaugural First Light experience.
We sat perched on our kitchen stools and saw the first glimmer of light shortly after 6:00 am. The previous days brought snow, clouds and grey skies. But this morning, the first light of the first day of the new year, was filled with promise. A hint of orange and pink emerged over the Orrs Island shoreline and after what seemed like an eternity (a little after 7:00 am), the bright sun came forward to beckon us to greet the new day. With the sea smoke forming a blanket on the frigid bluish-grey water and the temperature warming up to a “balmy” five degrees, the gang stepped outside for a group shot. Memories were made, friendships were cemented and new traditions were initiated. May the first day of 2009 be a barometer for the year to come.