Now the Hainesville Woods may never see a smile, and the road to Stonington is really out of style.
But when the snow is wet and you’re feeling those awful chills, you really can’t beat the excitement of those Lucerne Hills.
It was April in Maine, a cruel month it can be, coming back from Bangor, my passengers were three.
The snowflakes looked like milk pans, each one was 2 feet wide, and over on the shoulder, a jeep was on its side.
A lobster truck had landed, way up in a tree, the lobsters they were headed east, now that they were free.
I tapped my brakes to slow us down, as we headed down that hill; to stop that bus from spinning took all my Downeast Skill.
A lumber and a propane truck both passed me on the right; the crash they made that fateful day was quite a crazy sight.
The fire they made burned to the sky and warmed the land below, so by that afternoon, the buds were all aglow.
The trees went green, the flowers came out and birds commenced their trills. Its true my friends, this happened one day, while traveling on the Lucerne Hills.