Woods and Waters
My teen hangouts were different, reflecting my unease around people which was offset by my love of and comfort with nature. We moved to Sennebec Hill farm when I was just over a year old. Living on 187 acres that included old tote roads, lake frontage, an orchard, and a blueberry field offered endless adventures. Many years later, my friend Massachusetts Jack summed described it perfectly when he said “I liked being alone. It was the only time I understood all the rules.” That was how I felt most of the time as a teen. I earned enough money to buy a ten foot wooden boat when I was fourteen. In summer, I established a routine that helped me stay sane. I got up before anyone else, packed a lunch, walked down to the shore, and rowed out onto Sennebec Pond. Ostensibly, I was fishing, but for all practical purposes, I was isolating. The pond was three miles long by a mile wide. The Georges River flowed in at the north end, exiting at the other on its way to the sea. While shallow...
