Having family in Maine provides me with several marvelous New England travel destinations. My parents and my sister and brother-in-law live in Brunswick and Harpswell. A trip to both of these towns, along with nearby Freeport or Portland, always promises scenic beach walks, fresh seafood enjoyed with waterfront views, and shopping at farmer’s markets or eclectic shops and galleries. Every August, Brunswick hosts an Outdoor Arts Festival. One summer as I wandered among the booths, I stopped to admire a small watercolor depicting two little girls standing side by side on a quiet beach watching the incoming tide. Although I was tempted to purchase the lovely painting, I left it behind. Later that year, my thoughtful mother surprised me on my birthday. She had bought the painting for me . This charming scene, along with photos I have taken in Maine have inspired this new photo essay.

The late night storm swept a garden of kelp and sea lettuce across the sandy shore. Hidden among the strands of seaweed is a treasure trove of shells, pebbles and sea glass. Now, the late morning sun shines down from the clear blue sky and the churning waves have calmed. Elizabeth Ann and her daughter walk along the water’s edge where the damp sand remains firm beneath their bare feet.

The little girl skips and dances like a sandpiper, swinging a yellow plastic bucket at her side. She pauses every few minutes to bend down and examine the glittering array of shells scattered across the beach. She picks up a perfectly formed scallop shell and calls back to her mother, “Look at this one, Mommy.”

“That’s a keeper, Eliza,” Elizabeth Ann says, admiring the pristine white shell. She holds up a heart-shaped piece of green sea glass. “What do you think of this?”

“Ooh, it’s so pretty.” As she places the treasures into her bucket, Eliza glances over her shoulder at the friendly sound of a dog barking.

A West Highland Terrier trots down the porch steps of one of the homes lining the beach. The dog runs toward them, followed by a girl who looks to be around 4 or 5 years old like Eliza. Her long dark hair is tied back in two braids and she holds a hand to her head to keep the floppy sun hat that matches her purple sundress from flying off in the ocean breeze.

“Where are you going, Callie?” the girl calls out. “Please come back right this instant.” Her voice has a distinctive British lilt, that makes Elizabeth Ann smile. Memories of her college semester abroad in London and her first love fill her mind, as she watches the girl bend down to hug her dog, who has obediently returned to her side.

“Good girl, Callie. You’re such a good dog.”

Eliza skips over to them. She sets down her pail and asks, “Is it okay if I pet your dog?”

“Of course. She’s quite friendly.” The girl smiles at Eliza and goes on, “My name is Maisie. That’s my dad.” She points to a man standing on the wide front porch of the white clapboard bungalow. “What’s your name?”

Crouching down beside the terrier, Eliza says, “I’m Eliza Grace, but you can call me just Eliza. My mom likes to call me Eliza Grace sometimes, so I’ll have two names like her. She’s Elizabeth Ann.”

“How funny.” Maisie grins up at Elizabeth Ann and gives her a little wave. She takes a tennis ball out of her pocket and hands it to Eliza. “Callie loves to play fetch.”

Eliza tosses the ball and the little girls giggle together when the dog chases after it. Elizabeth Ann watches them play, taking pictures with her cell phone. Through the phone’s video screen, she spots the man descending the stairs of his front porch. He jogs across the sand toward them and as he draws near she recalls a weekend trip to the beach in Devon on the south coast of England. His tall frame and loping stride seem awfully familiar.

“Maisie, it’s almost time for lunch. Come on home,” he calls out and Elizabeth Ann’s heart skips a beat. She knows that voice. She remembers the first time she heard it in that London pub when Sebastian introduced himself. From that moment, they had fallen into a whirlwind romance, but in June had gone their separate ways.

Elizabeth Ann studies him, her heart swelling with bittersweet emotion. She knows that Sebastian recently lost his wife to cancer and hopes that he and Maisie are coping well.

“In a moment, Dad,” Maisie says. “Callie and I are playing with our new friend, Eliza.”

“You’ve met a new friend then,” he says glancing from Maisie to Eliza and then finally Elizabeth Ann.

Standing beside her daughter, Elizabeth Ann slips her phone into her pocket. “Hello,” she says quietly.

Their eyes meet and his spark with surprised recognition. “Elizabeth Ann?” he says. “My God, it is you. It’s been a long time.”

Elizabeth Ann smiles up at him, hardly able to believe that he is standing right in front of her. There are a few lines on his face and his shaggy hair is now neatly cut, but his warm sherry colored eyes and engaging grin are the same.

“And this is your daughter?” he goes on, turning to Eliza. “Pleased to meet you,” he says with a formal bow.

The little girls giggle and Maisie says, “Dad, you’re being silly.” She waves an arm toward the gently rolling waves. “Can we go for a paddle?”

Sebastian glances at Elizabeth Ann. She nods and he says, “No going above your knees.”

The girls wander hand in hand to dip their toes in the water, Callie following at their heels.

“I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship,” Sebastian quips, quoting Casablanca.

Elizabeth Ann draws in a deep breath of salty air and grins at Eliza and Maisie’s shrieks of delight as they run and skip in the shallow water. She laughs and says, “I think so too.”