Several friends have asked if we took any pictures while we we visited Acadia National Park this summer. The sunrise and sunset pics on Cadillac mountain were some of my favorite moments, but Acadia is huge. We only had four full days, and explored the park by foot, bike and kayak, taking pictures that I believe only capture a glimpse of the incredible beauty that surrounded us. It certainly didn’t hurt that we had four days of sunny, breezy, nearly bug-free adventures. And the one night I sat to stargaze, a brilliant comet sped across the sky, like the sprinkles on top of a perfect day. 

A hop, skip and a stroll from our Campsite in Blackwoods

Eagle Lake: We biked around the lake, sure we took the route with the toughest uphill, but most rewarding downhill.

We kayaked on Echo Lake, a tough workout for the girls, but they made it!

Jordan Pond, sitting by the rocks after a dinner of Popovers!

Driving up to Cadillac that morning for the sunrise at 3:30 in the morning was simply the most magical moment of my life. The clouds and the colors nourished me in the deepest of places. That part of me that no one can reach except the one who created the sky and the sun and all else. 

The Whale Rocks that we point out to several people when we are much further away to “Look! Whales!” Oops.  =-) We actually did see a pod of whales off the shores of Otter Cliff! The girls are sitting in the pic above watching the whales. On our third day, we hike along the coast near Sand Beach and Thunder Cove, climbing over rocks and walking along cliffs, listening to ocean waves crash up against the shore. We stop to sit and picnic on a little cliff jutting out into the ocean that no one was sitting on. Before chowing down, I have the urge to take a closer look. Hubby gives me his, “Be careful” stare as I get on my hands and knees and crawl toward the edge.  My heart pounds as I lay on my stomach and inch toward the edge of the cliff we’ve been hiking along. The drop off is a long way down. I’m just glad the wind is still as I allow myself a few moments of living on the edge. Literally. Then we take turns inviting each of our girls to do the same. There’s something that happens when you teeter on the edge of a cliff. You dance with danger and the adrenaline rush reminds you that every moment…every breath…is a gift. And sometimes when you want a different perspective, a better view, or just to know how far you’ve come or how far you have to go, you have to take a risk. A line from an anonymous poem my mom cut out from a newspaper years ago comes to mind:                        Without risk, you cannot truly live.  So glad I didn’t drop the camera while taking the pictures while looking over the edge. If I close my eyes, I can recall the feeling of fear and awe that stirred inside me as I soaked in the beauty below me, sipping with my eyes a sight too large to take in. The miracle before me is simple yet so profound.  I’m surrounded—by God’s fingerprints and his arms—at the same time. Right now, Maine is my favorite place on earth. I think I left part of my heart there. I know one thing for sure. I plan to go back—again and again—if I have any say in our future vacation plans. And hubby agrees. Like the classic line from Jack in the TV Series Lost, “We have to go back, Kate <–insert ‘Raj’. We have to go back.”  **When’s the last time you took a walk along the edge of your life?  **If you liked this POST, you MIGHT also LIKE: “Swimming Through Clouds” OR “How do You Get There From Here?” OR “Thinks that Sparkle”