The Penobscot Narrows Bridge across the Penobscot R., a couple miles before Orland & the Narrarmissic R. |
"What happens
to me when I cross the Piscataqua and plunge rapidly into Maine at a cost of
seventy-five cents [1955] in tolls? I cannot describe it. I do not ordinarily
spy a Partridge in a pear tree, or three French hens, but I do have the
sensation of having received a gift from a true love. And when, five hours
later, I dip down across the Narramissic and look back at the tiny town of
Orland, the white spire of its church against the pale-red sky stirs me in a
way that Chartres could never do. It was the Narramissic that once received as
fine a lyrical tribute as was ever paid to a river --a line in a poem by a
schoolboy, who wrote of it, 'It flows through Orland every day.' I never cross that mild stream without
thinking of his testimonial to the constancy, the dependability of small,
familiar rivers."
-E.B. White, Home-Coming
Polar Bear Swim, Center Harbor ©2013 Basha Burwell |
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