The Clock on the Wall

I don’t know how I’ll look back on this time on North Haven.

It certainly wasn’t an island vacation. I caught the 5:30 p.m. ferry from Rockland on Saturday and arrived on-island a little over an hour later. I got up the next morning, started working, and didn’t stop until the following Saturday at 5 p.m. That’s how it felt anyway. I made breakfast, lunch, and dinner each day and watched a forgettable show before falling asleep each night. Otherwise, it was me and what started out as a daunting pile of stone.

It wasn’t the size of the wall that was overwhelming. It was the time I had allotted myself to build it. It’s difficult to navigate ferry reservations to this small island in Penobscot Bay. It was a miracle I got the spots I did. There was no extending my stay.

Constraints are useful. The ticking clock clarified my thinking. When you're building a stone wall, there are a million decisions to make—maybe more. On this build, there was no time to overthink the placement of each stone. To be honest, the work was better for it. Forced to trust my instincts, the wall had a better flow.

I finished the wall on the last night. If I'd had one more day, I probably would have finished it then. Isn’t there a law about work expanding to fill the time allowed? Seems pretty accurate.

It wasn’t exactly a fun trip, not in the summer-on-a-Maine-island sense, but it was meaningful. I worked hard. I accomplished my goal. I think I’ll look back on it as a rewarding trip because of that.