History: We first saw this many-windowed light filled home (circa 1975) in late September 2006. It captured us immediately. We had been searching for this very spot for years. Simple and straightforward, characterized by its connection to the land and water, the house felt rooted, serene, and yet within easy reach of all our favorite mid-coast haunts. To complete the sense of peace, a lobster boat wrapped in fog in the near distance.
Beautifully situated to overlook Watts and Cutler coves, the main house (two bedrooms and bath) and guest cottage (one-bedroom with bath) sit at that magical point mid-peninsula where the river flows down to meet the sea. Rocky outcroppings near the house add texture to the landscape. The river is wide and quiet, perfect for swimming and boating, the rich black (no light pollution here) night sky full of stars, and the moon makes a bright path over Watts Cove.
We love to share this beautiful home with others.
River Watch now offering autumn weekends: Summer brings the heady beauty of long days full of light, warmth, and adventure on water and land at River Watch. We love to get out in the kayaks and explore the coves and distant shoreline. Last summer we docked on the far side of the St. George River and hung out on the rocks: fishing, dreaming, and (the younger folk) digging in the pebbly sand. Nearby Clark Island (Clark Island Road, off Route 73) ends at a conservation trail that winds along a shoreline of soft creamy sand and large flat rocks, where it's engrossing to stare into the tidal pools watching miniature marine life - starfish, sea urchins, crabs, and snails. The area truly comes to life in summer when nearby lobster shacks open, lupine and wild roses bloom, the beaches and our own coastline offer gentle shorelines for swimming and rocks for climbing. There's so much to do, and much less to worry about. Life seems simple and romantic.
Eagles and herons: I saw my first eagle in the wild at River Watch the other day. The circling hawks cried 'danger' to one another while the eagle, as big as a four-year old, sat on a lofty branch surveying the growing hysteria.
Meanwhile, the resident great blue heron comes to fish at low tide - standing in that famous one-legged pose, as silent and mysterious as the Sphinx.
Lately, too, we've seen a seal swimming around the cove, and heard the call of the loons.
