Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1882-11-13
Autumn at Mt. Desert.

The autumn months everywhere are lovely
but never more so than at Mount Desert.
Then it is. the sky is clearest, the air purest
and the scenery most beautiful. Old men
renew their youth once more, and young
men are endowed with the vigor of two.
The long strain on the nerves, caused by the
excitement and rush of the summer months
is over and both man and beast breath more
freely, and the few visitors who remain en-
joy the island as they can at no other time
of year Autumn is really the season when
this resort appears at its best, and as this
gradually becomes known to more tourists,
we may look forward to the time Gin the
near future. we trust) when Mount Desert
will rank with the White Mountains, OF the
Berkshires (Which in some respects it
resembles9. as a famous autumn resort.
Climb the heights of old Newport on some
sunny autumn afternoon. Far below you
lies the restless sea bearing on her heaving
bosom an hundred white sailed vessels and
ever casting her foaming blluws high against
the crags of score of rocky isiets; the
haunts of coot and gull. Miles away upon
the verge of the horizon, long line of smoke
betokens the passage of some ut-bound
steamer. You hurl a stone down the
mountain side, it crashes with a thunderous
noise through the bushes and leaves a cloud
of dust to mark its downward course. A
huge fox, started from his lair, sneaks
stealthily among the rocks and darts hastily
down the hill side.
You turn towards the village that appears
in the distance and behold below gorgeous
exhibition of mingled crimson and gold. The
lavish hand of autumn has tinted oak, beech
and maple with hues that are made the rich
er BY contrast with s0mbre colored frs.
Through the meadows runs gistening
stream like a silver thread. Bourne to the
ear BY the passing breeze and mellowed by
distance comes the pleasant chimes of the
herd bells. Anon the sharp strokes of the
woodmans axe, and the crash of some
lofty pine breaks the silence
To the west Green Mountain, the compan-
ion of Newport, rises in grim silence. Here
for centuries have these twin giants guarded
the pass like stern sentinels, and here for
centuries to come will keep guard unless
some mighty earthquake shall overthrow the
twain. In mid air above the lntervale, q
large eagle floats on motionless wings; sud
denly he darts downwards with the rapidity
of an arrow and rises with an unlucky rabbit
in his talOns.
Across the bay the Gouldsboro Hills rear
their undulating crest. while farther up the
coast rise huge pillars of smoke from the
mines at Sullivan, and spread over the heav-
ems like a cloud. The scene is enchanting
and none but the late visitor at Mount Desert
can hope to enjoy it.
As for the drives in autumn, they are
delightful. The roads are in excellent condi-
ton, being neither muddy nor dusty, and the
atmosphere has then found the golden mean,
avoiding either cold or heat.
We advise-nor do we this solely from
sordid motives, although we must confess, as
resident upon the island, we are not wholly
free from these, but we really have some
motives of Observation-Disclosures, if you will
believe tive advise all OF our readers who
can, to spend few weeks Of autumn at Mt.
Desert, especially from the LIST to the Goth of
October.-Uerdid.