Humane Education / Humane Eats [Day 1]

I woke up to the sound of Green Frogs calling me out through the forest and to the Bay with their rubber band snaps. And other morning sounds-a cacophony of sorts. Morning is so loud. Luckily, there was deep, dark coffee to sip as I walked down the trail. I kinda wanted that coffee commercial first cup.

I met the Blue Hill Bay at low tide. So everything was covered in thick yellow seaweed, empty and spongey like the veins of a giant sea creature. 

There were several siren perches that’d fit the bill for my hope of a coffee commercial first cup. But ecstatic gnats and flies all wished to enter my eyelids. What do they do that for?

I saw plenty of funghi. I don’t know anything about wild mushrooms, except that it excites me to see ’em!

I took the trail back up the the Institute’s grounds, walking through the tremendous fields of wild flowers. 

And they all smiled for pictures. It was a glorious way to start the day.

After a productive morning, we had a delicious vegan lunch. Now, I had half-expected uninspired offerings similar to the options available in town. But IHE practices what it preaches–by way of all-vegan. And because they know that this may be a participant’s first sampling of vegan food, they go all out–much to the enjoyment of long-term vegans like myself. For lunch–a lentil walnut apple loaf with a delicious sweet glaze on top, a heaping spoonful of mashed potatoes…

A stellar salad with a scrumptious orange shallot vinaigrette and delicious vanilla-glazed anise cookies. In a word: Wow. 

Dinners are on our own. Declining the invite to the steel drum band playing in town, I headed, instead, to Acadia National Park. But only after a quick and perfunctory dinner at Gringo’s, a burrito joint off the downtown Bar Harbor waterfront tourist spot that can put tofu in the burritos and knows things like whether or not their beans have lard. Good enough for me!

I headed to the summit of Cadillac Mountain in Acadia National Park, the highest point on the Atlantic coast, to watch the sun fade to the east in that pink trail that never photographs well. There were a ton of site-seers waiting for the big show. I love that.

Goodnight, Maine. You’re beautiful.