9-25-13 Franciscan monks would be jealous of the peacefulness here. It is a place, once a bustling waterfront in recent centuries, now in recuperation. A place folding back into itself quietly, the Salmon Falls river reflective below, between the dark forest that lines its banks. The historic house rises stately upon a hill overlooking its domain. Despite the richness springing from the earth here, there is an impervious quality that I find masking the depths of the grassy hillock I’m seated upon. One that keeps me from feeling too deep. The message I am getting from the surrounds is to honor and uphold our remaining beautiful, pristine places. They are manna for the Soul. Yet there is the unmistakable quality of strength here too in this soil–the unyielding fortitude of early settlers and the underlying deep love and respect of the Natives who were here before. As the sun comes out I feel an opening, a softening, and I sit a short distance away in another spot. Here I feel a soothing peacefulness, a welcoming. The first spot had some hard usage at some point in its history I fear. Overlooking the sleepier banks of the back river, just past the house, this new one lets me feel in. The earth a soft cradle of kindness and sweetness, the comfort of an old friend. A place to rejuvenate one’s spirit and catch the palpable romance of all here that has come before.

By Lenaye Marsten

Hamilton House, South Berwick, Maine