Peaks Island

As last weekend approached, Tony and I were feeling a bit restless.  The weather was warm and was supposed to be in the high 40s on Saturday, and being slightly stir-crazy from enduring this crazy winter being smothered in blankets in our apartment, we knew we needed to go somewhere exciting.

So we drove down to Portland to visit my brother-in-law, Kyle.  I always look forward to visiting him.   He suggested we take a ferry to Peaks Island.  Being a native Mainer, I had never heard of Peaks Island, but I was intrigued.

It turned out that Peaks Island was gorgeous.  Look at this view!

The island was the epitome of Maine.  Cottage houses lined the quiet streets.  They were all gorgeous.  I loved this cottage in particular– the brightness of its door reminded me of Greece, a place I someday hope to visit.

The moment where I felt like I was in some cliche Maine island novel was when I turned the corner and saw the following:

I was pretty flabbergasted.  Geese?  Really?  Perhaps I’m never in the right places, but I typically only see Canadian geese, and only during certain parts of the year.  Amazingly, they let me get up close and take photos of them.  I didn’t get too close, though– during my first year of college at Ithaca College, I attempted to take a picture of a goose and it actually charged at me with a frightening hiss.  My friend took a photo of this.  Apparently I didn’t learn from that situation, and luckily I am still alive.

Although the island was a bit chilly (it was definitely below the high 40s we had been promised), it was a gorgeous day spent with family.