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It could be Lake Wobegone -- but that is just a fiction. But Megunticook
is for real, and it has been the one place in the whole world that I have
always come back to. Ungrammatical as usual. But none-the-less,
Megunticook is a beautiful Maine lake, just 2 miles from the Bay, and
close to the small village of Camden. We have lived here (in the summers)
for 50 years. My toys are still in the closets. As are the toys of my
children and grandchildren. The place has history. 15,000 years ago, ice
almost a mile high sat on top of us, as the glaciers moved south,
carrying large boulders, smoothing mountains, bringing pulverized rock
South to create Cape Cod and Long Island. As I say the place has
some history, at least in the short time frame that us humanoids
understand. And over night it changed -- one more time. <br>
<br>
When I was a child, what you noticed most was the silence. No cars. No
people. No --- nothing. You could hear the Loons calling at night . An
Owl or two. But mostly silence. And then in the 60's we had the first
Jets. Camden is on the main route for transatlantic traffic coming into
and going out of the US. Starting at about 10 in the morning, the con
trails appeared in the sky as the first jets from Europe came over on
their way to JFK, Dulles, and beyond. And in the afternoon, it all
started again as the Jets went North to ride the Great Circle Routes to
Europe. And underneath it all was the dull rumble of distant thunder --
1000's of hp and gallons of jet fuel denoting the "modern age."
When we had a Cold War -- the commercial jets would give way to the B-52s
flying high. silent -- almost. White Bellys to protect the crew
(supposedly) from the Atomic Blasts they might be called upon
to set loose upon the world. Gave you Goose bumps every time they went
by. 'Cause it could be the last time. But somehow we escaped. And
the B-52s went to wherever such birds went... and the Jets came as
always. South in the morning. North in the evening. Silent con trails,
but with a distant rumble. The modern world, I guess.<br>
<br>
9/11 or was it 911? -- the world changed. Again. And for two days,
as I sit by the lake in the warm Sun of a mild September -- it is
Silence once again. No con-trails. No rumble. Silence...<br>
<br>
And in that silence, I can hear the gentle lap of the lake, talking to
the shore as it has for 15000 years since things thawed out. I can also
hear the screech of an American Eagle (Bald Eagle) chick -- sitting in a
tree and begging for dinner. The parents are looking on, wondering how
they raised such a teenager. But mostly it is the silence...<br>
<br>
ho <br>
<br>
<br>
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Harrison Owen<br>
7808 River Falls Drive<br>
Potomac, MD 20854 USA<br>
phone 301-469-9269<br>
fax 301-983-9314<br>
Summer Phone 207-763-3261<br>
Summer Address<br>
189 Beaucaire Ave.<br>
Camden, ME 04843<br>
Personal website www.mindspring.com/~owenhh<br>
Open Space Institute website www.openspaceworld.org<br>
Open Space Training www.openspaceworld.com <br>
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