We pull off at the side of the highway in Somewhere, Maine looking to sing to the snails. There's a deep shoulder of gravel here, so we assume it to be a parking lot. The sky and the water and the rocks are all the same homesick color. I remember how the bookstore owner had described it earlier when he suggested adding this stop to our trip, and I think, Any place can be scenic, depending upon the scenes in your head.I follow Caleb onto the rocks towards the water. I'm wearing worthless sandals that slip off and keep finding places to get stuck. The whole trip Caleb's been pointing out my lack