Aah… some lovely sights since moving.
My birthplace, Portland. This area is the Eastern promenade. Not exactly where I moved, but a great place to check out, and walk.
A nice view, isn’t it?
Deering Oaks Park is closer to where I live.
The park looks great in July. A nice memory. But a memory for now.
Things have gone downhill since. Nevertheless, the past helps us understand the present.
A map would help navigate around, of course. The Promenade, for example, neighbors Back Cove… and yet, I don’t remember ever seeing Eastern Promenade until I was in the process of moving despite being to the Cove with my mother many times.
Dogs in the water. Humans on standing kayaks, and boats. And litter.
Someone near the train tracks painted the scene on canvas.
It was something else.
The residential service with the group home has helped with getting me around. And a bit of ice cream or sherbet to sweeten the deal. 😉
Fort Williams Park is pretty big — a lot of walking, and a lot of greens during the summer.
Part of the military Maine had during the Civil War are these grounds.
These forts became part of park grounds with full access, inside and out. (And a tourist trap.)
This was once a mansion, with cars in front. Now it’s ruins on a hill with a plaque, a fence and a warning sign.
This car not part of the park… but colorful nonetheless lol.
The lighthouse must bring back memories for many others.
Particularly written memories.
An accompanying museum—at this perspective, it obstructs the lighthouse, directly behind. Perspective can be critical, how you might never see something accurately—or at all—unless you look from another angle.
There it is. Standing tall, for so long.
Whereas unicyclers have to keep balance at all times. There have been more of them in Portland, or maybe I’m just noticing them more. Doing that in the rain will certainly make me notice. It’s kind of weird, if you ask me. Not that you asked me.
Living in a group home has been kind of a balancing act in itself, should certain others be reluctant to clean after themselves or keep the noise down when I’m trying to rest.
There’s more to the story, and a lot more photos. This is just one part as I gather and think. The picture comes together, like a collage as I write.
Until next post…