Memorial Park

The first time I ever heard a loon was canoe camping beside a pond in Baxter State Park, Maine. When you have no idea what that sound is (what that sound is? -L and O), a loon call in the dark is terrifying.

It’s a been a long time since then, but I’ll never forget that sound. I think about it every time we walk around the pond at Memorial Park.

The pond at Memorial Park looks nothing like this one, which is the one I camped by in Maine, but memory is a funny thing. For whatever reason the little pond at Memorial Park reminds me of that one in Maine. There is no physical resemblance at all. Baxter is a wild place with few people around. The pond at Memorial Park is the opposite. There’s even a fountain in the middle. Still, something about it.

L and O have never heard a loon, never been to Baxter State Park. Yet.

They’re happy with the swings and the slides and the ducks.

Geese they are not such big fans of, but last week the geese weren’t around. Just ducks.

And climbing, you can never climb atop too many rocks.