In a Fog

Dear Diary,

I arrived at Machaisport just in time to see the fog roll in.  Nothing says ""Downeast" to me more than a thick blanket of fog.  It is so nice to back in this lovely part of my lovely state.  After dinner, Betsey and I wandered the adjacent graveyard...two photographers lost in the haunting presence of this place, surrounded by memorials to those who have gone before.

Many stones were to sea captains and since my family heritage is so linked to the sea, I felt right at home.  The fog gave everything an ethereal light that I just love and the only sound was the call of a tiny warbler in an old apple tree.  I felt a million miles away from the scandal and controversy swirling in Washington.

I began my e-course, Ethics of Memory, yesterday and the first assignment was on how we memorialize people after they are gone.  What lives on to mark their lives; for most it is a simple gravestone, for me it is this journal.  They say that that once something is put on the internet it is there forever...a kind of immortality I guess.