My visit to Squirrel Island last year was a brief one, but all the sweeter for the limited time. Spending summer weekends on this island outside of time, with dear friends who have become chosen family, sharing in their traditions over the years, has become one of my own. And the memories are deeply precious. Now we all remember a few of us already gone, the memories are that much dearer.

On a Sunday afternoon last October, I packed up my rescue pup and about month of camping gear in the trusty Volvo and headed to Northeastern Maine, or in local terms, as far Downeast as one can go. So far in fact that we lost all phone signal and this was the goal. The road, my pup, nature, time, and freedom to just be.

Squirrel Island in Boothbay Harbor is an island outside of time, where the fog rolls in slowly and sea sounds and ferry times sound time time, everything moves at the pace of foot traffic, and folks greet each other with stories of their life since last summer, the cottage they are staying in and whom they know - how we are all connected.