Boothbay Harbor
On that Italian hilltop, winter after winter, i have been almost insupportedly homesick for Maine scenes and scents: for the fresh, fragrant sea breeze, compounded of the essences of cool damp sand and moist brown seaweed; for the keen perfume of dying sweet grass in the haying season; for the springtime odors of lilacs, mallow and young willow trees; for a smooth gray beach at the mouth of a tide river, and the raucous screams of mackerel gulls above it, hunting sand-eels; for the scent of autumn leaves, the sound of a bird-dog ranging an alder swale, the thunder of a rising partridge; for a lamp-lit kitchen and the steamy, appetizing odor of baked beans and new bread.’’
—- Kenneth Roberts (1885-1957, American writer, best known for historical novels
