I'm spending a week in June on a small island off the coast of Maine. Aside from the sweeping views of Penobscot Bay and the Camden Hills beyond what's most striking is the quiet. Today is overcast and all I can hear are foghorns and the occasional lapping of the small waves below me. It's very still.
A couple of days ago some friends and I explored a neighboring island. It was buggy but not unbearable. We saw a seal draped over a small rock lounging in the sun a hundred feet from the shore. A bald eagle stood on another rock and eyed us, then looked over the ocean and then turned to look at us again. When it took flight its wingspan was easily six feet. We walked down a trail and just barely noticed in the tall grass a fawn curled up sleeping. Its coat was a light brown with vaguely symmetrical splotches of white. We kept walking, wondering if it had been abandoned. We circled back and looked again. This time its head was up and it looked right at us. Its brown eyes were huge. It was hard to resist the temptation to stroke its fur. We told the owner of the island and she said that it was typical for the doe to nurse the fawn in the morning and then go foraging while leaving the fawn to sleep hidden in grass or foliage. The doe then comes back in the early evening.
We walked towards the beach and passed two osprey nests. The fledglings' heads were just visible above the edge. The mother flew around squawking at us and so we kept on walking. It was both an exciting and calming day.