May Gray

We went on our fourth annual Hermit Island Birthday Camping Trip this past weekend (accounts of our first three trips here, here and here).  We went intrepidly forth, despite a less-than-stellar forecast and many, many disbelievers inquiring if we were actually planning to go when it might, like, rain and stuff.  But really, if you wait for perfect weather before doing anything in Maine, you'll wait a long time.  I can think of maybe one camping trip in all the years I've lived in Maine when it didn't rain, so you just pack extra clothes, raincoats and a sense of humor and suck it up.  And, truthfully?  The kids have just as much fun in the rain as in the sun, and their good humor can't help but rub off.  And besides, if you're not at home feeling obligated to do things, or at work, how can you help but enjoy yourself?  

C with the fully-loaded Volvo.

The beach requires bare feet, no matter how cold it is.

Interesting things pop up everywhere, if you just slow down and look.

This one was the only one brave enough to swim this cold cold weekend (not pictured, the next day sopping wet and shivering in swim trunks and Hawaiian shirt)

Beach handstands do not require sun.

Seagulls and eider ducks don't mind the clouds either, nor do nature journalers.

The boys' favorite camping pastime--playing with fire.

C kept up his Little Orphan Annie optimism with a steady strumming of "Here Comes the Sun" (though I forbade him from playing "Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head."

Chilly morning? Just add leg warmers.

Crocs are the only footwear that can get wet and then dries out overnight--I got a new pair for Mother's Day.

More drawing--a collection of seashells.  I didn't get much reading or any writing in,

But I did manage some knitting on the beach.

I built this cage to contain the fierce creatures we found.

Frisbee played a big role in keeping beachgoers warm--I even hoisted myself from my beach chair and joined in on a game the last day.

With your feet sunk in quick sand, you hardly notice how cold the water is.

A thick layer of dirt helps keep them warm, too.

When you get really cold, you can crawl into Mama's hammock, where she would have spent the whole weekend if the sun had deigned to shine on it.

Anchors away!  Gray though May may be, go out and play anyway.

I'm sure there's a life lesson in all of this.