In the Right Place: Encounters of the Canine Type

This cute Brittany spaniel was in an otherwise vacant car next to mine as I pulled into a parking space on Thursday. Once parked, I put down my window and said, “Hello, there!” She calmly looked me over and then ignored me as any unaccompanied small female should when a strange old man accosts her.

I was struck by the fact that she easily could have leapt out of the fully-open car window, but she didn’t, nor did she get agitated by my closeness. She apparently was comfortable with people, well-trained, and told to “Stay.”

The windows in her car apparently were left open because it was warm. You have to be careful not to close a pet in a confined space during the summer.

(Images taken in Blue Hill, Maine, on June 26, 2025; stated sex and breed were guesses.)

In the Right Place: Summertime

Here you see Summertime on a cloudy day in Down East Maine: The clear, fresh water of Patten Steam is chortling into salty Patten Bay at high tide; the reflections of the thick and lush leaves along the shore are painting the moving water a deep emerald in which alewives are jumping and making circles, and a few pink beach roses are adding visual spice for the observant.

It brings to mind the opening, brilliant, and scene-setting couplets of George Gershwin’s “Summertime” lullaby in Porgy and Bess:

Summertime
and the livin' is easy.
Fish are jumpin’
and the water is high.

Those lyrics were by DuBose Heyward and Ira Gershwin, except that my “water” above was their “cotton” in the original. As the renowned songwriter Stephen Sondheim noted, that famous opening line uses “and” instead of “when,” which makes an exquisite difference poetically. It expresses a universal feeling about Summertime, not just a description.

That feeling was created at the meeting of the two Patten waters that day last week. Adding to it was a youngster in Maine summer attire who was trying his best to catch one of those alewives;

(Images taken in Surry, Maine, on June 26, 2025.)

In the Right Place: Mast, Motor or Muscle

Here you see the various marine power sources at rest in Naskeag Harbor during Sunday’s golden hour: sail, gas, or oars. Being a working waterfront, the majority are outboard motors on the skiffs that take fishermen to their lobster boats in the Harbor.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, at 5:55 p.m. on June 25, 2025.)

In the Right Place: Peeking at Peonies Peaking

Our relatively cool and wet spring brought forth an abundant harvest of luxurious peonies this year. The blooms this year seem to contain especially dense multitudes of guard petals to protect the flowers’ sexual centers. The flowers appear to be at their peak here now and are being eagerly clipped and gathered to brighten up the homes of peony people.

Peonies are native to Asia and reportedly are known as “The King of Flowers” in China. They have been cultivated for thousands of years in what seems to be an evolution of ever-increasing complex beauty.

They’re not all show, however. In Asia, their seeds and roots have been used for centuries to treat headaches, asthma, and other ailments. Worldwide, their tasty petals have been consumed by many cultures in salads and as garnishes. They reportedly have a subtle strawberry/peach/peppery light sweetness, but I’ve never felt the urge to munch on them.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine on June 25, 2025.)

In the Right Place: It’s Not Just You

This is an image for those who, every now and then, wake up in the morning after a bad night and look into the mirror at wrinkles, growths, and a hairdo from hell. Remember: You’re not alone. Things get better – unless you’re shot or grabbed by a coyote, which just might be unlikely for you. (Image taken in Brooklin, Maine, on June 8, 2025.) Click on the image to enlarge it.

In the Right Place: Windjammer Watch VI

Above, you see the schooner Lewis R. French waking up yesterday in steamy Great Cove after overnighting there. She’s on a six-night coastal cruise, according to her schedule. The French is the sixth windjammer that I’ve seen visit the Cove since the coastal cruising season opened in late spring.

Yesterday, she moved from her overnight anchorage off Babson Island to one nearer the Wooden Boat School. There was virtually no wind on that steamy morning, so her yawlboat pushed her:

The French is a gaff-rigged topsail schooner now out of Camden, Maine. . She’s reportedly 101 feet long, has a full keel (which is unusual for coastal cruisers), but no internal motor (which is not unusual). She was built by three brothers who named her after their father, a Maine storekeeper.

The French also is a famous old lady. She was launched in 1871 in South Bristol, Maine. According to the literature, she’s the oldest two-masted schooner in the U.S. and the oldest extant sailing ship built in Maine, where she always has been home-ported. She’s a designated National Historic Landmark

Her yawlboat also took two loads of her passengers ashore to visit the WoodenBoat Campus , shop at the gift store there, and return aboard.

The wind hadn’t picked up much when it was time to depart the Cove, so her yawlboat had to do more work:

The French didn’t raise her foremast sails or jibs while in the still-aired Cove, but may have done so when she reached the windier Eggemoggin Reach.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on June 24, 2025.)

In the Right Place: All in the Family

Members of the Maple family have been acting up lately. They’re mostly good neighbors, but can be distracting at times. I shouldn’t complain, since these natives have lived her longer than my family.

The red maples (Acer rubrum) are now launching their red and green winged-seed samaras (aka helicopters, whirligigs), which you see ready for take-off here:

Meanwhile, the mountain maples (Acer spicatum) are busy producing their pluming yellow-green flower clusters:

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on June 8 and 20, 2025.)

In the Right Place: Classics Department

The classic sleekness of Luders 16s can’t be denied.  They always look ready to pounce into action, even when just moored in fog at low tide or riding a high tide under the sun.

These sloop-rigged racers have been described as “two-man boats needing the work of three men.” I hasten to correct the record and point out that you’re looking at “Frolic,” a local L-16 that’s owned and sailed by a woman and moored in Great Cove.

The L-16s were designed by the renowned naval Architect Alfred E. (Bill) Luders for the Fishers Island Yacht Club in New York. Hence, they originally were called Fishers Island L-Class boats, with the “L” indicating their designer.  According to the published specifications, they’re 16’4’ long at the waterline and 26’4” overall, with a beam (widest part) of 5’9”.

The first L-16s were designed and built by Bill at Luders Marine Construction, his Connecticut boatyard that was founded by his father. Bill spent most of his career working out of Luders Marine. During World War II, that company built more than 100 military ships under Bill’s direction, including minesweepers, patrol craft, and submarine chasers.

Bill Luders died at the age of 90 in 1999. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on June 19 and 21, 2025.)

In the Right Place: Major Contributors

Our fragrant water lilies (Nymphaea odorata) have been appearing in ponds for about two weeks, but the flowers are just starting to become numerous amid the floating carpets of their lily pads. The best time to see the full beauty of these native flowers is early in the day when they first open up and the yellow pollen-producing stamens at the centers are more obvious. (See also the image in the first Comment space.) Their floating lily pads contain pores (“stomata”) through which the plants breathe. After pollination, the flowers will sink, and their seeds will mature in the flowers’ fruits.

Water lilies are major contributors to wildlife. Their pads provide hunting and resting platforms for birds, frogs, dragonflies, damselflies, and other insects; they also provide shade for fish and insects below, while keeping the water cool. Their fleshy stems are eaten by beavers, muskrats, moose, deer, and porcupines, and their seeds are loved by ducks.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on June 20, 2025.)

In the Right Place: Thrilling

If “pea soup” is an accurate description of our usual dense fogs, Thursday’s fog was haddock chowder. It was so thick, it appeared chunky in places. It occasionally would lift slowly about 100 feet, and then seemingly crumble down again into an impenetrable gray wall.

Every now and then, the schooner “Heritage” could be seen for several minutes hunkered down off Babson Island. The large, mostly yellow-hulled “Heritage” is hard to hide. Here you see her waiting for her passengers to come back from a foggy visit to the renowned Wooden Boat School whose pier is on the Cove:

Since “Victory Chimes” was retired, the “Heritage” apparently is our largest coastal cruiser at 145 feet overall. She hails from Rockland, Maine, and was on a June 16-21 cruise visiting lighthouses and making trips ashore to interesting places, according to her schedule.

On Thursday, when it became obvious that the fog was not going to go away, the motorless “Heritage” did something unexpected: She raised her two mainsails and a topsail and slowly eased out into the fog-clogged Eggemoggin Reach with additional help from her powerful yawlboat:

I have a feeling that few lighthouses were seen that day, but that the sailing was thrilling in one sense at least. (Images taken June 19, 2025.)

In the Right Place: For Summer-Lovers

It’s officially the first day of summer and we’re having our third consecutive day of fog here as I write to you. Nonetheless, here’s a June image of Blue Hill and Blue Hill Bay that will stir the souls of some summer-lovers. It’s one of the pleasing sights that we collect for our monthly records. As a bonus, here’s a slightly different view of the small, no-name (I think) island:

(Images taken in Blue Hill, Maine, on June 11, 2025.)

In the Right Place: Amazing Grace

Here you see the “Grace Bailey,” one of the grand old ladies of the Maine coastal cruiser fleet. She’s coming into hazy Great Cove late Tuesday afternoon to anchor off Babson Island for a nice dinner and some merry folk music. According to her schedule, she’s on a six-night “music + sailing” cruise.

She overnighted in the Cove and got trapped there yesterday in soupy fog and steady rain that caused her to coverup and hunker down:

“Grace” is 118 feet overall and now hails from Camden, Maine. She’s named after the daughter of the original owner, Edwin Bailey, who had her built in 1882 in New York. She was fastened by wooden treenails, as was the custom then, but has gone through several restorations during which her hardware has been updated. But she still has no motor. “Grace” reportedly is one of only four surviving wooden-hulled, two-masted schooners that engaged in the historic northeastern coasting trade.

She served in the coasting trade until 1939, working many of those years under the name “Mattie.” From 1919 to 1939, she did her coastal trading along the Maine coastline, one of the many vessels carrying goods to areas where road access was difficult or impossible. She was rechristened with her original name after restoration for tourist cruising. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on June 17, 2025.

In the Right Place: Maine Lullaby

Here’s a June record image of the iconic old red boat house that we monitor in all seasons. The image could be the backdrop for Clara to sing her lullaby to her child in a Maine version of Gershwin’s “Porgy and Bess” -- “Summertime and the living is easy….”

An oak tree’s leaves and shadows frame your view horizontally. You can glimpse the Cove’s northeast passage to the beautiful sailing waters of Blue Hill Bay where – maybe – “the fish are jumpin’ and the sailing is dry.”. (Image taken in Blue Hill, Maine, on June 14, 2025.)

In the Right Place: Name Game Department

Here’s “Jack” conducting Sunday services in his Church of the Holy Bog. Yes, this is the Jack-in-the-Pulpit plant that usually is difficult to find due to its wet and shady habitat and competing “churchgoers.” The plant (Arisaema triphyllum) is native here and toxic in the raw state to humans.

The literature is unanimous that this plant was given the common name Jack-In-the-Pulpit because – to whomever named it – it looked like a preacher in a covered and striped pulpit who is further covered by a three-leaflet flower structure. It takes a lot of imagination to see that, but there remains a mystery: Why is the preacher named Jack? Why not just call the plant “Preacher [or Priest] in the Pulpit?”

The best answer that I’ve seen is that there was an old English custom of calling unknown males “Jack.” There also was the age-old toy named Jack-in-the-Box that might have reflected that colloquialism. Nonetheless, the Jack-in-the-Pulpit descriptor is more interesting than a technical one, which would be “Spadix-in-the-Spathe.” Botanically, the spadix is the flowering stemlike growth and the spathe is its hooded protective leaf. (Image taken in Brooklin, Maine, on June 15, 2025.)

In the Right Place: A Hare-Raising Tale

This youngster is not a rabbit. He’s a snowshoe hare at the shadowed edge of the woods, where he sometimes ventures out and nods off under the warm sun:

He’s got a lot to learn about hiding and he doesn’t have much time to do it. He probably won’t learn quickly enough, as you’ll see below.

Although related, hares are usually larger and faster than rabbits, with bigger feet (especially rear feet), longer ears, and longer legs. Unlike rabbits, which are born blind, naked, and helpless, hares are born with working eyes, fur, and can already hop a bit virtually immediately. Unlike that of rabbits, the fur of snowshoe hares also changes to white in winter to provide camouflage in snow.

However, both hares and rabbits have high mortality rates. Both hoppers are targets for just about every larger carnivore that has a beak, fangs, or bullets, including larger owls and hawks, large domestic cats, bobcats, lynx, dogs, coyotes, foxes, weasels, mink, fisher, marten, and human hunters in season (fall>spring).

Maine wildlife officials estimate the mortality rates of snowshoe hares in New England at 75 to 95 percent for juveniles such as this one, while the surviving adults’ mortality is thought to range from 66 to 81 percent. Stated another way: Hares usually don’t live much more than a year here and it is believed that rabbits have similar, if not worse, chances.

Nonetheless, although they are in decline here due to predation and habitat loss, hares still are considered to be abundant due to their high birth rates, while our native cottontail rabbits are listed as Endangered in Maine. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on June 11, 2025. Sex assumed.)

In the Right Place: Yellow Is for Caution

Wild Yellow Flag Irises such as this are unfurling around our pond now, which gives us mixed feelings. These beautiful plants (Iris pseudacorus) are listed as “Severely Invasive” in Maine and many other jurisdictions due to their aggressive displacement of native plants. All parts of these plants also are poisonous to humans and other animals. Yet, they and their bladed leaves are exotically attractive.

Yellow Flag has many other common names, including these: Daggers, European Yellow Iris, False Acorus, Flagon, Fleur-de-lis, Jacob's Sword, Pale Yellow Iris, Water Flag, Water Iris, Water Skegs, and Yellow Iris. It thrives in wetlands, along shorelines, and in shallow water, preferring full sun and boggy conditions:

If you want to remove small colonies of them, Maine officials recommend digging them out and discarding them in the trash while using gloves. (The leaves are sharp and the sap can irritate skin.) A combination of mechanical and chemical treatment also is recommended online by Maine officials, especially for large colonies. But remember that special rules apply in Maine to herbicide use in or near wetlands and water bodies.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on June 9, 11, and 13, 2025.)

In the Right Place: Better Than Being Bugged

Many of our white-tailed deer are magnificent now. Their tawny summer coats glisten with newness, their muscles ripple with potential speed, and they roam their domain with grace and majesty. They also are spirited. For example, they never walk around our double field wall if they have a chance to leap over it:

Of course, there are too many of them here – almost a horde instead of almost a herd – and they do damage farms and gardens and cause traffic accidents. However, that’s a different story that need not be addressed now. Now, I’m just thinking that our white-tails are much more pleasing to watch on a fine summer morning than locusts. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on June 11,2025.)

In the Right Place: Why Did the Chrysemys Cross the Road?

Painted turtles such as this one are among the shyest of wildlife, yet they often are dangerously courageous. This image appears with my monthly column in the current edition of the Ellsworth American. The column is about the fascinating lives of painted turtles (Chrysemys picta).  To read the column, use this link: https://www.5backroad.com/montly-column

In the Right Place: Flag Days

Native wild blue flag iris are up and waving. (So are the nonnative wild yellow flag iris, which will be the subject of a future post.)

The wild blue (Iris versicolor) also is called the harlequin blue flag, northern blue flag, northern iris, and poison iris. They appear more frequently in the northeastern states. Blue flags grow and fly on pole-like stems in small colonies in fields, especially those where they can get their “feet” wet:

Those blue flag feet are plant stems (rhizomes) that are systems of roots and shoots, which have been implicated in the poisoning of humans and other animals, especially calves. The plant’s sap also reportedly has been a problem for people who are susceptible to dermatitis.

However, there are reports of blue flag rhizomes being used by some Native Americans in small amounts to treat liver and kidney problems, burns, wounds, and swellings.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on June 9 and 11, 2025.)

In the Right Place: Working Waterfront Report

I hear that local Captains are getting their lobster traps and vessels ready to start the coastal trapping season later this month or in early July. Here you see “Captain Morgan” with some of her scalloping gear that will have to be detached and a lot of paraphernalia on deck. “Judith Ann” apparently is all cleaned up and ready to go:

These images reflect two interesting aspects of coastal seafaring. First, note how tidy everything is on board “Morgan.” Some would call that being “ship-shape,” part of an old saying that reflects the nautical need to keep things in good order at sea for safety and economic reasons. In days of yore, it was a complement to people of any vocation to be told that their workplace was "ship-shape and Bristol fashion." (The English port of Bristol was famous for its very efficient shipbuilding and cargo handling.)

Second, notice how relatively small these vessels’ steering wheels are compared to those used many years ago or even today on large sailboats. Smaller wheels require less room at the helm and often provide more visibility and more reactive steering for quicker turns. Modern hydraulic and power steering systems reduce the need for muscular efforts to turn the wheel or keep it steady, making the physical leverage offered by a larger wheel less important. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on June 8, 2025.)