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In the Right Place: March Madness

Isn’t it just like March? She notices that her snow and ice have melted, and the beloved green ground is showing itself to those that need to eat it and those, such as Yours Truly, who need to see it in spring.

March apparently decided that there was too much indecent exposure going on. She cast down millions of tiny snowflakes in plumes of white yesterday, which lay like a cheap blanket on the awakening earth and returned us to what has become decent, but boring, whiteness.

Yes, of course, snowfalls and their effects are beautiful. But they can become like engaging guests who overstay their invitation. Nonetheless, now that I’ve finished my first rant of the day, here and in the Comment space are a couple of images of March’s outdoor madness yesterday. (Fortunately, the indoor basketball madness has been mostly exciting, but that’s another story)

Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on March 22, 2026.)

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In the Right Place: Barndominiums

The steady decline in Maine farms has led to an increase in traditional barns being converted into what some are calling "barndominiums" – residences, B&Bs and other shelters with all the modern conveniences for people, rather than the necessities for farm animals.

Barndominiums often preserve or simulate the original barns’ historic post-and-beam exteriors, but contain features such as great rooms with large fireplaces, central air conditioning and heating, and other good-life amenities. Some barndominiums keep (or replicate) a barn’s large sliding doors, but when those doors are slid open, you’ll see large windows or glass-paneled doors. Here’s one under construction:

Leighton Archives (March 14, 2022)

Many Maine farmers relied on animal warmth or sometimes a small wood stove to heat barns in winter. Today, you’re as likely to see a propane truck backing up to a barndominium to supply heating fuel as you were in days of yore to see a manure truck backing up to a barn on mucking-out day:

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on March 18 and 20, 2026.)

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In the Right Place: Getting Rolled

This well-proportioned, 18-foot skiff had just been rolled over when I visited the Brooklin Boat Yard’s auxiliary shop yesterday.

As you may know, in custom boat building, a boat’s being “rolled over" refers to the critical, often celebratory, moment when a boat hull is completely (or virtually completely) formed and the boat is flipped from its inverted build position (bottom-side up) to its upright finishing position (right-side up). Then, the boat’s interior supports, etc., can be worked on:

BBY’s auxiliary shop is in the historic (rehabilitated) Odd Fellows Hall near the main boatyard. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on March 20, 2026.)

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In the Right Place: Optimistic Pessimism

Our bogs are finally flooded into vernal pools. Skunk cabbage shoots are rising from the water again and soon should open and expose the purple and mottled spathes that protect the plants’ tiny flowers:

In a week or so, we should begin to hear the first rehearsals of our competing peeper, brown frog, and green frog choruses, each with its own version of call-and-response amphibian gospel music. In early-to- mid April the silent salamanders should be arriving for their annual life-creating dances in these waters.

That’s assuming that all will go well. I can’t shake the creepy feeling that Mother Nature doesn’t feel well and the causes may be fatal and too late to cure. And that one day the amphibian gospel music will stop, never to be sung again. The beginning of a bad ending. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on March 15 and 18, 2026.)

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In the Right Place: A Maine Viewpoint

It’s time to take another peek at what is perhaps Brooklin’s most historic structure – this time without snow. Here you see the seaside facade of “The Lookout” basking in yesterday morning’s sun:

The original parts of this structure have sheltered people since about 1760. It sits on a promontory at the end of the Flye Point peninsular, where there is a panoramic view of local bays and the Atlantic Ocean. It’s a perfect spot for an observation point, which it has been from its beginning, hence its name.

At first, The Lookout was an observation point for British colonists watching primarily for unfriendly Native Americans in canoes. Later, it may have been used by rebelling American colonists watching primarily for unfriendly British in ships. Now, it’s used by summer tourists watching primarily for small sailboats, large windjammers, lobster boats and sunsets, perhaps while sipping some giggle enhancers in that screened porch dining room. Here’s one of its rooms with a view:

Leighton Archive image

Throughout all this time, The Lookout has been in the hands of one or more members of the Flye family. The present proprietor, Butch Smith, is the grandson of Lettie Beryl (Flye) Smith. The original house was expanded upward in the late 1800s into an Inn by Butch’s great uncle, Owen Flye, and has remained one since then.

The Lookout has a fine restaurant that’s open to the public in the summer, and its extensive sea vista grounds are popular for weddings and other outdoor events. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on March 18, 2026, except as noted.) 

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In the Right Place: Ejecting Excesses

Here you see the mouth of Patten Stream at Patten Bay yesterday. The swollen and turbulent stream is forcefully ejecting the run-off water from the torrential rains of March 16-17. This phenomenon is akin to the vomiting of excesses, and it demonstrates one of the problems causing our long-term severe drought.

Under certain conditions, such as frozen ground and sudden sheet-rain, much of the rainwater runs off and eventually finds a stream or river to take it away. We need slow, soaking rain to make a comeback from our drought.

Our recent gale-force winds and rain reportedly brought various locations in the Down East pounding rainfall that ranged from 1-to-2.5 inches in a relatively short time. That’s energetic March for you. Let’s hope that April is languid with her showers this year. (Images taken in Surry, Maine, on March 17, 2026.)

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In the Right Place: Nothin’ Good

We’re on generator as I write; last night’s 50 mph+ gale winds knocked out our pole-line power somehow. But a quick survey this morning  indicates that no significant damage was done to our property or any nearby.

This post contains two images taken in yesterday’s rainy, high-winded buildup to last night’s howler. On their face, these images will seem completely unrelated. Yet, sadly, there is a relationship.

This first image is of the fishing vessel ALL-IN tossing and swinging wildly at her mooring yesterday, even though she was somewhat protected by the islands around Naskeag Harbor:

The second image is of the ancient Camperdown elm in the Brooklin Cemetery yesterday. Her stolid body was unaffected by the winds, but her leafless branches were unable to protect against the rain that was falling on the graves of those she tries to protect:

The elm principally shelters the grave of Rodney S. Blake, who went down with the side-wheeling passenger steamer “Portland,” when everyone onboard drowned in a gale off Maine in 1892.

As for ALL-IN, despite being somewhat protected, boats similar to her have slipped their moorings in Naskeag Harbor during high winds and been sunk or severely damaged. When I checked on her this morning, however, ALL-IN was swinging contentedly on her mooring, seemingly proudly.

While in bad last night as wind and rain pounded the house, I remembered the words a veteran commercial fishermen told me with a shrug: “Nothin’ good about a gale.” (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on March 16, 2026.)

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In the Right Place: Severity

Here you see an image taken last week of a bog that usually is a good-sized vernal pool by now. Despite numerous rain and snow showers since late February, a long-term drought of varying intensity persists for much of the Northeast.

We here on the Down East coast have been in the “Long-Term,” “Severe Drought” category since last summer, according to the latest U.S. Drought Monitor:

The hope is that we’ll at least improve to “Moderate Drought” by end of spring. Seems to me that’s a pathetically weak hope, as hopes go. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on March 13, 2026.)

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In the Right Place:  A Piering Locally

Our two most renowned piers stand patiently in March on their ancient granite pillars. They’re unfinished roads to nowhere now, with their floating docks disengaged and stored on land.   But they provide faint memories of summer and boats and ropes and the mixed sounds of lapping water, creaking gangways and warm weather laughter.

Above is the Brooklin Boat Yard pier and shed in Center Harbor. Below, you’ll see the WoodenBoat pier and boathouse in Great Cove:  

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on March 10 and 13, 2026.)

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In the Right Place: The Heat Pump Plant

It snowed again last night, and now we’re getting ice-cold rain. But the eastern skunk cabbage plants don’t mind; they’re born with built-in heat pumps. More on their thermodynamics later.

Skunk cabbage spathes have been surfacing through snow, ice, standing bog water and frozen ground for at least a week here. Most plants have sported the common purple-red and red-mottled spathes, as shown above. However, we’re also getting a few of the uncommon yellow-spathed varieties:

As usual, these are the year’s first flowering annual plants to break ground. A cluster ball of pinhead-sized flowers (a “spadix”) is hidden inside the jester-hat-like spathes:

Leighton Archive Image

This amazing plant (Symplocarpus foetidus) is one of a very few plants that has evolved the ability to metabolically generate considerable internal heat. It uses intense cellular respiration to convert starch into heat-energy. Skunk cabbages have been reported to have raised the temperature of the flowers in their spathes to 71.6˚ F (22˚C), even when the surrounding temperatures are freezing.

This heat enables the plants to get a jump on competitive plants before true spring arrives.  Being warm and cozy is thought to attract and shelter the earliest pollinators, which crawl into the side openings of the spathes for a little refreshment (nectar and pollen), as well as protection from the elements. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on March 12 and 13, 2025, except as noted.)

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In the Right Place: In Shop and Shed

Above, you see the two boats now being constructed in the Brooklin Boat Yard shop, both designed by BBY designers. The racing sailboat in the foreground is DYLAN, an Eggemoggin 47+ (47’ 6” overall); it’s the third of its type to be built so far at BBY. In the background, you’ll see a power boat; she’s going to be a custom 47’ Express Cruiser. She may not have a name yet.

Meanwhile, in the old BBY storage shed, small boats and mooring gear await their return to the water in late spring and early summer, when Brooklin begins to bustle:

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on March 10, 2026.)

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In the Right Place:  Crimes of Dispassion

Here you see the fleeing sun committing aerial arson after it burned off most of the snow in the fields Monday. Below, you’ll see the sun briefly returning to the scene of the crime this morning.

I hear that he’s going to be in his hideout most of today. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on March 9 and 11, 2026.)

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In the Right Place: White Flight

Above and below are images of Conary Cove before the snow and sea ice melted away in the past couple of days. I hope they’re the last images I take in March of the beautiful Cove wearing a white shawl. But history warns that they might not be.

(Images taken in Blue Hill, Maine, on March 5, 2026.)

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In the Right Place: Turkey Troubles

Recent warmer weather and rains have melted much of the snow down, easing somewhat the troubles our wild turkeys have been having finding food.Above, you see a mature bird that was part of a group (a “rafter”) of turkeys that was foraging in turkey-accessible snow last week. Below, you’ll see one of the group’s immature turkeys trying to keep up.

When the ground is covered with snow, wild turkeys try to eat tree buds, conifer needles, dried berries, mosses, lichens, and seeds from weed stalks. They also rely on stored body fat, scratch through shallow snow for hidden acorns and nuts, and scavenge agricultural fields. Sometimes they lose a feather or two in the process:

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on March 6, 2026.)

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In the Right Place: Dressing for the Weather

March often can’t make up her mind about what weather she’s going to wear. Yesterday, she tried on one fog after another, including famous brand fogs such as Fogs by Great Cove and Eggemoggin Reach Fogs, Ltd., even Fogs Are Us. 

Then, she decided to try different styles of rain instead of fog, such as drizzle drapes and wet wraps. Next, she tried wearing fog with an accent of rain and then wearing rain with hints of fog.

This went on all day! She drove her snow audience mad, much of which snuck away during her antics. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on March 7, 2026.)

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In the Right Place: Inn-Side Story

As you can see, snow doesn’t become the Brooklin Inn, at least old, plowed snow. But everything else about the Inn’s winter season has been fine. The Inn, a community hub, has operated as an inn and restaurant since the 1980s.

The structure was built in the 1920s as a private residence and now features guest rooms, a pub, restaurant (with dining expanded to a screened porch in summer), and outdoor dining in the summer. Its current owners took over in 2019 and introduced a fine food menu and good wine list, which seem to be doing well. Try the halibut.

 (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on March 4 and 5, 2026.)

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In the Right Place: Ice-Orama

Blue Hill Bay was still mostly iced-in yesterday, although some of it is melting. Above, you see the Bay view of the near-mountain called Blue Hill. Below, you’ll see the Bay where it greets Mill Stream:

(Images taken in Blue Hill, Maine, on March 5, 2026.)

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In the Right Place: Exaggerations Anonymous

Images of parts of Brooklin’s two largest boatbuilding operations are shown in this post. Brooklin is the self-proclaimed “Boatbuilding Capital of the World.” This may be somewhat of an exaggeration, but there is considerable reason to be proud of Brooklin’s maritime craftsmen (male and female).

There are at least seven or eight fairly substantial boat-designing and boatbuilding operations in Brooklin, plus the WoodenBoat School (where students build boats under the direction of experts). There also is an unrecorded number of individual master boatbuilders.

Above, you see Brooklin Boat Yard’s four-story main construction shop/shed. It reportedly is 120-feet-long and 60-feet-wide. Inside, it has a huge full-height bay designed for building, repairing and restoring large custom vessels. It’s here that BBY blends classic wooden craftsmanship with modern technology and composite materials to make extraordinary (and often very expensive) yachts and other boats.

Below, you’ll see some of the heated storage and work buildings of Brooklin’s Atlantic Boat Company. Some of these building doors are 28 feet high to accommodate tall sailboats and flybridge cruisers without removing masts, Bimini tops, or hardtops. ABC designs, builds, maintains and repairs fiberglass Down East-style lobster boats, commercial vessels, and yachts.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on March 1, 2026.)

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In the Right Place: Beauty Pollution

March delivered her first real snowstorm overnight. It was a beauty, but we don’t need more of that kind of beauty. I’m beginning to think that there’s a beauty pollution phenomenon – just too much of a good thing.

Nonetheless, as you see, Great Cove and Eggemoggin Reach beyond were stunningly gorgeous at first light this morning. Even the woods, before sunlight stroked them, were a study in shadowed beauty:

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on March 4, 2026.)

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