That wonderful family “meeting” happened about a week ago. Since then, I have traveled across the county to do some soul searching in the very place my parents found me. Maine.

It was a beautiful place and I spent much of my time over the last week exploring Acadia National Park and the area around it. I'd hiked the Beehive trail, ate popovers (a local fluffy bread muffin, of sorts) and went to explore some of the carriage roads that had been gifted by John D. Rockefeller Jr.. And once I stopped being absolute chicken shit, I might work up the courage to venture out near the outlying islands.

That's where my parents found me, apparently. It's very strange that two native Alaskans happened to find me in Maine as me heritage definitely could be traced back to the Inuit people of that area. I never even suspected I might not be their biological son.

But for now, I'm doing some “soul searching” down at the beach. I made my way across the foggy beach, slipping and sliding through the sand because of my reluctance to take my shoes off. There was a fence off to the left far from the water. It was there that I decided I would roost.

I took in the area. It was foggy and a pleasingly cool breeze made its way in from the ocean bringing a fine mist of cool salt water with it. There were a lot of people loafing about in the sand occupying themselves with god knows what. They definitely weren't looking at the scenery. The fog was so thick, you couldn't see ten feet in front of you clearly. Maybe they were all people watching like me.

I saw some guy with an inflatable chair that he was running around with, trying to blow it up. He would run, trap air inside and then sit down. Then he'd sit down for a couple of minutes, decide it wasn't blown up enough and begin the process again. Idiot.

There were even a few brave souls in the water. Looking at them, I kind of wanted to go in the water too. Living in Alaska, I didn't get too much of a chance to swim in a natural body of water. It was a little too cold for that kind of activity. Heaving a sigh, I decided the opportunity to swim was too good to pass up. I pulled my shoes off and languidly pushed myself off of the fence. Then I made my way up to the inviting water. Gingerly, I tiptoed my way into the waves. I've been told the water never gets above 56 degrees Fahrenheit, but it felt okay to me.

I waded out further into the water, comfortable in the crisp waves. When it was up to my waist I plopped down on my butt and let the ocean toss me around. Ceva saasha. I thought I heard a whisper but shook it off, I was underwater, after all. There should be no whispering down here.

All too soon I had to surface for air. Getting up into a kneeling position, I gulped in a breath and moved my hair out of my face with a hand. Once the water was out of my eyes I opened them to come face to, uh, face with another man’s crotch.