Sailboats ride the wind as the afternoon sun stirs the waters of Sebago Lake, Maine's deepest lake at 316 feet, and at 12 miles long, one of its largest.
Photo Credit: Richard Schultz
Sailboats ride the wind as the afternoon sun stirs the waters of Sebago Lake, Maine’s deepest lake at 316 feet, and at 12 miles long, one of its largest. Photo Credit: Richard Schultz
Head a half-hour or so northwest of Portland, Maine, a city defined by the sea, and you’ll come to Sebago Lake. Around its 45 square miles you won’t find wilderness, unless a storm rolls in, dark as night, and that’s wild enough when it catches you. But like thousands of lakes in New England, Sebago holds memory and tradition, and a deep sense of belonging. Along its shores are small resorts carved from the woods, summer cottages (“camps”) that have stood for generations, and overnight camps for children who make friends they never lose. We asked photographer Richard Schultz to watch days unfold on a summer lake until the quiet of darkness. For more than a week, he explored Sebago Lake on foot, in the water, by boat, and from his car, and found the stones that seem to skip forever through time and place.
Nowhere else in the country is the summer-camp experience for children so ingrained as along the lakeshores of New England. When Richard Schultz discovered Little Wohelo, a girls’ camp (ages 6–12) founded in 1907 on Sebago Lake, he was struck by the almost dreamlike quality of the classic and idyllic summer childhood still possible there. “The camp was amazing,” he says. “They were grounded and enjoying themselves. It was great to see these girls in such an outdoor, natural setting. They felt as if this was their home. I met people who’d gone to camp there 20 to 30 years ago. They still felt that they were Wohelo girls. There was a sense of everything in the world being forgotten, just kids being kids. The world fades away. No boys around; no electronic games; no television. Just friends, the outdoors, time on the water. A priceless, carefree time in their lives that they’ll treasure deeply as they get older.”
Summer on the lake isn’t just for children. Time slows as well for guests at Migis Lodge, where a rustic elegance graces the lake—where after-dinner walks along lantern-lit paths may be accompanied by the cry of a loon, the rustle of wind, the pervasive scent of pine, and laughter spilling out from a nearby cottage. Lakeside festivities include a twilight cocktail; cardplaying while waiting out an impending storm at Migis Lodge; a pre-dinner gathering on the lodge’s porch; a boat ride to Frye Island; and a traditional Migis lobster bake.
Canoe on Sebago Lake Photo Credit: Richard SchultzSebago Lake Island Photo Credit: Richard SchultzGirls Walking to Sebago Lake Photo Credit: Richard SchultzPeople Eating at Sebago Lake Photo Credit: Richard SchultzFishing on Sebago Lake Photo Credit: Richard SchultzSEE MORE:Summer on the Lake | Photographs
Mel Allen
Now editor at large, Mel Allen's first byline in Yankee appeared in 1977 and he joined the staff in 1979 as a senior editor. Eventually he became executive editor and led the staff as editor from 2006 to 2025. During his career he has edited and written for every section of the magazine, including home, food, and travel, while his pursuit of long-form storytelling has always been vital to his mission as well. He has raced a sled dog team, crawled into the dens of black bears, fished with the legendary Ted Williams, profiled astronaut Alan Shephard, and stood beneath a battleship before it was launched. He also once helped author Stephen King round up his pigs for market, but that story is for another day. Mel is author of Here in New England: Unforgettable Stories of People, Places, and Memories That Connect Us All (Earth Sky + Water LLC, 2025).
My childhood summers were spent on Sebago Lake. Those summers were the happiest days of my life and I will treasure those memories until the end of my days. Memories such as sitting on the pine needles under the trees, playing with my dolls, breathing in the heady pine smell; or going blueberry, raspberry and/or black raspberry picking. Driving to the docks in Portland to buy fresh lobster so we could listen to them ‘scream’ in the pot. Little tadpoles captured from the lake, briefly kept in jars. Fresh water clams in the bathroom until the odor of them rotting forced my mom to throw them out. Family visits, boating on the lake, barbecues, fireplace at night. Outings to Wassons Grove for red dogs and slider swings. Buying pine pillows from the House that Jack Built. Visiting my favorite person, my great-aunt Alice in Westbrook; locking Aunt Alice out of the house when she came to babysit and telling her I had been hiding in the refrigerator. I am so very blessed to have had all those wonderful summers.
My childhood summers were spent on Sebago Lake. Those summers were the happiest days of my life and I will treasure those memories until the end of my days. Memories such as sitting on the pine needles under the trees, playing with my dolls, breathing in the heady pine smell; or going blueberry, raspberry and/or black raspberry picking. Driving to the docks in Portland to buy fresh lobster so we could listen to them ‘scream’ in the pot. Little tadpoles captured from the lake, briefly kept in jars. Fresh water clams in the bathroom until the odor of them rotting forced my mom to throw them out. Family visits, boating on the lake, barbecues, fireplace at night. Outings to Wassons Grove for red dogs and slider swings. Buying pine pillows from the House that Jack Built. Visiting my favorite person, my great-aunt Alice in Westbrook; locking Aunt Alice out of the house when she came to babysit and telling her I had been hiding in the refrigerator. I am so very blessed to have had all those wonderful summers.