Postcards From Maine: The April Collection

April this year used everything that she had in her weather tool box. She began with a cloudy day, but then managed to get the sky unclogged and the sun poured out.

After resting for two cloudy days, she turned the wrong lever and a snow flurry leaked through on April 5, well into Springtime.

This seemed to unnerve April; she never got the system working smoothly after that. It sometimes rained for several days in a row; sometimes the morning fog lasted until evening.

In between April's frenzies, she somehow produced sunny, Chamber-of-Commerce days that made you wish you could frolic as well as the young White-Tailed Deer.

Nonetheless, April kept the system running enough to justify her name. (The Romans named her “the opening” month [aperire: “to open”], in reference to the awakening of flowers and leaves during her shift.) The usual early bloomers in the gardens returned more or less on time and others were bursting with buds as April punched her time card. Among them were Daffodils, Andromeda, Rhododendron, and Forsythia:

When April started the job, important bog-preserving plants were just a hope. For example, only the spathes of Skunk Cabbage had emerged. Yet, on April’s last day before her 11-month vacation, the cabbage leaves were beginning to open and Fiddlehead (Ostrich) Ferns were emerging in their tight wrappings.

Also returning more or less on time were the migratory birds that nest here, including Tree Swallows, Red-Winged Blackbirds, and Northern Flickers.

Wild Turkeys are permanent residents here, but April is the month that the males (Toms) start to get kinky: They puff themselves up into hulks twice their usual size and strut stiffly around trying to impress the ladies.

Looking back at the whole month, one thing stands out: This was one of the wettest Aprils that we’ve had. And that's what we needed most from April. Last year, New England had a serious drought that adversely affected our ground and surface water. April was a major contributor toward reversing those effects. The wells -- Maine's primary source of drinking water -- are working; ponds are high, and the mossy streams in the woods are wildly alive.

For larger versions of the above images, as well as additional images of moments in April that we want to remember, click on the link below. (We recommend that your initial viewing be in full-screen mode, which can be achieved by clicking on the Slideshow [>] icon above the featured image in the gallery to which the link will take you.) Here’s the link to the full tour of April in Down East Maine:

https://leightons.smugmug.com/US-States/Maine/Out/2017-in-Maine/April-Postcards-From-Maine/

Cheers,

Barbara and Dick

Postcards From Maine: The March Collection

In Hancock County

March came in this year with surprising ferocity. Her winds gusted up to almost 50 miles an hour at times, roiling usually placid waters, and toppling trees.  

She also brought our heaviest snows of the year, making our mild February seem like spring.

As you would suspect, then, March was unseasonably cold for the month that brings us spring. The thermometer dipped below zero several times and the snows and rains came. The result?: Sea ice, pond ice, stream ice, and that old favorite, mummifying rain chain ice.

Yet, there were many sunny days when the ice was more of a beautiful artifact than a nuisance. On those days, Bufflehead Ducks would bask and Herring Gulls would glide without a hint of being cold:

As the snow and ice began to melt and the late light stayed with us longer, evening landscapes were imbued with a lush duskiness:

Of course, dusk is a good time to raise a glass to St. Patrick on March 17 when the pub opens; it's also a good time to raise a net for Glass Eels on March 22, when the season opens for these little critters (also called Elvers).

All told though, March is best when viewed from a snow-dusted blueberry field in the early morning, as a pack of fast-moving clouds chases an unseen quarry across the sky.

For larger versions of the above images, as well as additional images of moments in March that we want to remember, click on the link below. (We recommend that your initial viewing be in full-screen mode, which can be achieved by clicking on the Slideshow [>] icon above the featured image in the gallery to which the link will take you.) Here’s the link to the full tour of March in Down East Maine:

https://leightons.smugmug.com/US-States/Maine/Out/2017-in-Maine/March-Postcards-From-Maine/

Cheers,

Barbara and Dick

Postcards From Maine: The February Collection

In Hancock County

February was added to the Roman calendar as the purification (februum) month; it was a time for Romans to participate in cleansing rituals. Similarly, February here is a time for us to participate in the purification brought by our most significant snow storms, including this year's blizzard that required multiple plowings during the storm to keep driveways open.

After each storm, the landscape glistened in the cold, clear air.

Familiar objects became art forms during and after February's snowstorms.

The Romans had to squeeze February into their year and, in doing so, the month eventually became our only one with less than 30 days. Nonetheless, February always seems to be one of the fullest months.

This year, February here contained, among other things, the Gilbert & Sullivan Society of Maine’s performances of The Pirates of Penzance; the New England Patriots’ overtime win in the Super Bowl, which many early-risers here watched well past their bedtimes; a sunny Valentine’s Day preceded and followed by blizzard-like conditions, and the Oscars presentations, which had their own bizarre overtime win that kept people awake.

Two of these February events were celebrated by neighbor Judith Fuller's road banners.

These man-made events in February were enjoyable, but the really impressive shows were put on by Mother Nature during the month, including her choreography for low-level light, choppy sea, and rugged shores.

February was, on average, not what we would consider cold, notwithstanding all the snow.  It was a month with many days that were meant to be enjoyed outside – especially by Red Squirrels roaming on top of high snow drifts and dogs cavorted happily over sandbars during low tide.

That’s not to say that it always was enjoyable to be outside this February. We had a few wickedly cold and windy days during which even the hardiest of Mainers had to hunker down, tuck it in, and wait things out.

For larger versions of the above images, as well as additional images of moments in February that we want to remember, click on the link below. (We recommend that your initial viewing be in full-screen mode, which can be achieved by clicking on the Slideshow [>] icon above the featured image in the gallery to which the link will take you.) Here’s the link to the full tour of February in Down East Maine:

https://leightons.smugmug.com/US-States/Maine/Out/2017-in-Maine/February-Postcards-From-Maine/

Cheers,

Barbara and Dick

Pirates Invade Down East

In Ellsworth, Maine (February 11, 2017) [Some Images Affected by Difficult Lighting Conditions]

The Pirates of Penzance was the only Gilbert and Sullivan opera premiered in the United States, where it opened to rave reviews in New York City on December 31, 1879. Soon after, it played in London, where it also was well received during a lengthy run. This wonderful comic opera of the absurd is now having a good run at The Grand in Ellsworth, where it is being performed by members of the Gilbert & Sullivan Society of Maine. The final performances will be given on February 17, 18, and 19.

Pirate King (Roland Dube)

The two-act opera takes place in Penzance, a southern England port in Cornwall, where there is a pirates’ lair. One of the central characters is the Pirate King who is exuberantly softhearted. He’s well known for letting any of his captives go if they are orphans. His pirate business is failing because the people he tries to hold hostage always claim to be orphans and he releases them.

Frederic (Zachary Fisher)

Another central character is Frederic, a young man on the verge of adulthood. When he was a boy, Frederic was mistakenly indentured to the Pirate King by his hard-of-hearing nurse, Ruth.

She thought Frederic’s father told her to apprentice the young boy as a “pirate,” when the father really said “pilot.” But, she has stayed with Frederic during his piracy indenture.

The opera begins when Frederic is about to become 21 years of age, which he believes is when his indenture as a pirate is to be concluded.

The only woman he has seen is the 47-year-old Ruth, who deceives Frederic into thinking she is what a beautiful woman looks like. On this basis, he promises to marry her when he is released.

However, while traveling alone in the countryside, Frederick meets a bevy of young maidens, all of whom are more beautiful than Ruth.  

Frederic falls in love at first sight with one of them, Mabel, and she reciprocates. He revokes his promise to Ruth, and he and Mabel make plans to marry after his imminent release from piracy.

Some of the Young Maidens Found by Frederic

Below: Frederic's Sweetheart Mabel (Kayla M'Lynn Gayton) and Nurse Ruth (Debra Hagge)

Major-General Stanley (Maurice Joseph Marshall)

But then Frederic’s fellow pirates arrive and announce that they forcibly will take the young maidens as wives. Mabel warns the band that the women are the wards of Major-General Stanley of the British Army. Stanley then conveniently appears to find out what is going on with his daughters.

He sings the best known song of the opera: the difficult and funny “Modern Major-General Song.” The song, about Stanley’s immense store of useless knowledge, is a series of clever, alliterative lyrics delivered at a machine-gun-bullet pace. (“I am the very model of a modern Major-General / I've information vegetable, animal, and mineral….”)

All this is of no avail in convincing the pirates to free the Major-General and his daughters. But then, the Major-General remembers something important – he announces that he is an orphan and needs his daughters.  The softhearted pirates, of course, release the lot of them and celebrate.

Major-General, Frederic, The Sergeant (David Porter)

In Act Two, Major-General Stanley suffers sleep-deprived remorse for telling a falsehood and has to be comforted by his daughters, all of whom are in nightclothes. Stanley decides to cope with his conscience by destroying the pirates.

Frederic, who now believes that he has been released from his indenture, agrees to lead the charge against his former comrades in arms. A squad of the cowardly local police and their vocalizing Sergeant reluctantly agree to join the attack.

As soon as they hear the pirates, the police desert Frederic and hide. The Pirate King and vengeful nurse Ruth (now in full pirate gear) get the drop on Frederic and then give him a big surprise.

The Pirate King shows Frederic the indenture agreement, which says that Frederic shall apprentice as a pirate “until his 21st birthday.” The King points out that Frederic was born on February 29, a “birth day” that only occurs each leap year; that is, the boy will be 84 years old when he is released on his 21st birthday.

Frederic agonizes, but finally agrees that he has a written duty to serve as a pirate for an additional 63 years. (This is why the opera also is known as The Slave of Duty.) The reunited pirates celebrate.

However, because he switched sides and once again owes his allegiance to the pirates, Frederic informs the Pirate King that the Major-General is not an orphan. The enraged King vows to kill the Major-General.

Meanwhile, Frederic tells Mabel the bad news, but she's a good sport and pledges to wait 63 years for the wedding. While this wedding planning is going on, the pirates attack the Major-General and his daughters – who are all still in their nightclothes, except the ever-ready Mabel who somehow got dressed when we weren't looking. The bumbling police arrive and are quickly overpowered by the pirates. The Major-General is about to die.

At this point, the police Sergeant cleverly asks the pirates to stop “in Queen Victoria’s name.” The pirates, all ultra-loyal British subjects of course, desist immediately and kneel in honor of the Queen. They then are captured in patriotic subservience by the Major-General and police.

Just when we think the opera is over, old deceptive Ruth (Frederic’s not-so-young nurse, you'll remember) announces that the pirates really aren’t pirates after all; they’re noblemen who have gone astray somehow. This greatly pleases the Major-General, who allows all the pirates to marry his daughters and takes Ruth for his own. Frederic’s indenture evaporates and he and Mabel apparently will live happily ever after.

There were no tears during the performance, but there were smiles, humming, and mouthing of some of the more familiar lyrics.

For larger versions of the above images, as well as additional images of scenes in the splendid performance, click on the link below. (We recommend that your initial viewing be in full-screen mode, which can be achieved by clicking on the Slideshow [>] icon above the featured image in the gallery to which the link will take you.) Here’s the link to the performance images:

https://leightons.smugmug.com/US-States/Maine/Out/2017-in-Maine/The-Pirates-of-Penzance/

Cheers,

Barbara and Dick

Stalking the Mysterious Sea Scallop

In Brooklin, Maine

The Atlantic Sea Scallop is a strange creature. Among other things, it looks at its murky world through many eyes and swims by contracting its large muscle to open and close its shell. Few people have seen those eyes, but many know that muscle intimately. That "abductor muscle" is the part that we eat. It’s delicious, whether served simply seared or as part of a "Maine Bouillabaisse" with other locally-caught seafood.

Sea Scallops also are considered by many people to be expensive, especially when sold in a place that is not near a good source. Today’s on-line retail price from New York’s Fulton Fish Market is $35.00 per pound; our supermarket in Blue Hill has been selling them for $21.99 per pound. But, scallops aren't picked from trees in the summer; they're ripped from the sea bottom, usually in the winter. (The Maine scallop season is December through part of April.)

Then, there is the matter of the specially-equipped boat. Around here, it’s usually a lobster boat fitted with a a powerful winch and steel mast and boom for scalloping. Other than that standard equipment, the boats come in an interesting variety of forms.

There’s also the complicated gear, especially the scallop dredge. It's attached to the boom by wire and dragged across the sea floor where the mollusks are suspected to be. Around here, the so-called New Bedford style dredge seems to be preferred.

Among many other parts, the dredge has, at its forward end, a heavy steel, triangularly-shaped frame from which a “net” or “bag” made of steel rings hangs. Maine scalloping regulations require the rings to have a certain minimum diameter to allow small scallops and other non-targeted “bycatch” to escape. The diameters and other openings are varied from time to time by state regulations, depending on current concerns.

On the dredge’s top when dragged, the regulations require a twine or rope mesh with certain-sized openings to allow finned fish to escape. When the dredge is winched in and up, the scallops (and usually some detritus) are at the bottom of the bag, which can be emptied through an opening. The scallops are shucked on board.

Not all sea scallops are dredged. About one percent are harvested by courageous (some might say crazy) SCUBA divers in wet suits, who dive into our cold and dark waters and hand pick the mollusks. These are the really expensive “diver scallops” – and, the most delicious when eaten soon after being caught. Some scallop fisherman both dredge and dive; their boats often have diving platforms attached to the transoms.

The latest state data estimate that 276,474,805 pounds of shelled sea scallops were landed in Maine during the 2015-2016 season, about 33 million less than the prior season. However, National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration data indicate that the mollusks are not endangered. We're not sure we can say that about our fishermen.

For larger versions of the above images, as well as a few additional images of scallop fishing, click on the link below. (We recommend that your initial viewing be in full-screen mode, which can be achieved by clicking on the Slideshow [>] icon above the featured image in the gallery to which the link will take you.) Here’s the link:

https://leightons.smugmug.com/US-States/Maine/Windjammers-and-Other-Boats/LobsterFishing-Boats/Atlantic-Sea-Scallop-Fishing/

Cheers,

Barbara and Dick

Postcards From Maine: The January Collection

In Hancock County, Maine (January 2017)

January on the Down East coast is a month to watch the sun, wind, rain, and snow change our seascapes and landscapes into constantly-new worlds. The sun begins the day by rising above Naskeag Harbor and sometimes has to climb an open staircase of fast-moving clouds, turning the morning light on and off.

That Harbor is a scene of infinite change in January. It can be a place of sound and fury -- where a growling fishing boat charges through choppy water to return home to a raucous white-winged welcome.

That Harbor also can be a place of tingling tranquility -- where that same boat seems to sleep gracefully at home, dreaming of tomorrow’s trip.

We had little snow this January, but we had enough to transform the landscape several times and remind us of the white wonders of winter.

The calming effect of snow is best felt at daybreak, we think, when the low sunlight slowly illuminates familiar sights in a white world.

The mildness of this year’s January has been good for the wildlife that has decided to remain here with us, including the ubiquitous Red Squirrels, Wild Turkeys, and Herring Gulls.

The days are short in January, but the sunsets often more-than compensate for that. The best light of the year is a January sunset in Down East Maine.

For larger versions of the above images, as well as additional images of moments in January that we want to remember, click on the link below. (We recommend that your initial viewing be in full-screen mode, which can be achieved by clicking on the Slideshow [>] icon above the featured image in the gallery to which the link will take you.) Here’s the link to the full memory tour of December in Maine snow:

https://leightons.smugmug.com/US-States/Maine/Out/2017-in-Maine/January-Postcards-From-Maine/

Cheers,

Barbara and Dick

Postcards From Maine: The December Collection

In Brooklin, Maine (2016)

In December, the creatures are stirring here and we like to believe that, if we hang our Christmas stocking by the wood stove with care, Santa will come and put a Loon in it.

We were reinforced in our belief by this charming roadside banner that was displayed by our neighbor Judith Fuller, but we recognize that there may be some who doubted our theory.

Nonetheless, there was no doubt that December here was a month for celebrating significant religiously- and culturally-based holidays and for welcoming family, friends, and strangers with seasonal lights and good cheer. There are many welcoming places here.

As usual, Great Cove kept changing what she wore to show off for the holidays, including swirling diamonds, rippling silk, rolling turquoise and lace, and even glowing tawny and black opals.

It's supposed to be a Maine snow month, but here on the coast we had only one plowable snow storm this December. Even so, it still was a bit of a thrill to stand in the silence of our small December flurries while the flakes lightly frosted the spruce trees and reverently covered hallowed ground.

We did had impressive visits this month by snow’s cousin, sea smoke. The phenomenon of super-cold air blowing over the warmer air just above the water made our icy harbors look like they were about to boil.

Amid the December woods, the low sun sliced through the canopy where there once were leaves; it dappled the spruce and balsam fir trees and made spring-fed streams sparkle.

The seasonal lighting and the dark December nights can combine to create haunting hues and images reminiscent of some of Edward Hopper’s stark nighttime scenes, as in this image of our General Store, now undergoing reconstruction.

For larger versions of the above images, as well as additional images of moments in December that we want to remember, click on the link below. (We recommend that your initial viewing be in full-screen mode, which can be achieved by clicking on the Slideshow [>] icon above the featured image in the gallery to which the link will take you.) Here’s the link to the full memory tour of December in Maine snow:

https://leightons.smugmug.com/US-States/Maine/Out/2016-in-Maine/December-Postcards-From-Maine/

Cheers,

Barbara and Dick

Walking in Falling Snow

In Brooklin, Maine (December 17, 2016)

We had our first really plow-worthy snowfall Saturday, which is late for a few inches of snow here.

Brooklin’s average annual snow accumulation has been 57.9 inches for the last 30 years, according to the records. But, it may not get that high this year -- climate warming, again. The Town’s record for a single day’s snow was 60 inches on January 25, 1896, making Saturday’s “storm” a sneeze in comparison.

It appears that we got somewhere between 3 or 4 inches Saturday, according to our finely-tuned garden urnometer (which requires an estimate of the amount of snow that sits on top of the garden urn, discounted for roundness).

Things in Town were quiet as the snow fell. The red Town Office was closed and the blue General Store, still under reconstruction, probably won’t be open until spring, at least.

At the Brooklin Cemetery, the sinewy, semi-rare Camperdown Elm continued to bless the grave sites as the snow whistled through its outstretched branches.

The roads were passable and decorated with colorful driveway wreathes and Winterberry bushes.

As usual, Amen Farm was a welcome sight as we traveled Naskeag Road down to the harbor.

The winds were howling over Naskeag Harbor, but a skiff found a hiding place.

On the way back, “The Red House” on Back Road posed for postcards.

For larger versions of the above images, as well as a few additional images of the snowfall, click on the link below. (We recommend that your initial viewing be in full-screen mode, which can be achieved by clicking on the Slideshow [>] icon above the featured image in the gallery to which the link will take you.) Here’s the link to the full walk in the snow:

https://leightons.smugmug.com/US-States/Maine/Out/2016-in-Maine/A-Brooklin-Snow-/

Cheers,

Barbara and Dick

'Tis the Season for Sea Smoke

In Brooklin, Maine (December 2016)

One of the many joys of living on the Down East coast is seeing the occasional appearance of sea smoke spiraling and pirouetting over our waters on a cold day. This mysterious phenomenon is a distinct form of fog that sometimes is called frost smoke or steam fog. Below, you can see sea smoke forming over Blue Hill Bay, with Acadia National Park in the background:

Sea smoke is different from the common forms of fog, which really are drifting, low-level clouds that are formed when the temperature gets high enough to make the water in the air condense into liquid dew (i.e., get to the dew point). Thus, common fog, shown to the right, can be all-pervasive and engulf and endanger boats and ships.

Sea smoke is of little concern to larger ships because it drifts and dissipates at relatively low levels above the water. But it sometimes can be a problem for smaller, commercial fishing craft that remain in the water in winter.

One of the things that makes sea smoke special is that it is formed when very cold air sweeps over water that radiates a thin thermal band of relative warmth. The wind sweeps through and condenses the moisture in that band of air into small, dancing crystals. (Think of steam from a freshly brewed cup.)

Sea smoke can happen in full sunlight. In fact, it’s best seen early in the morning when the sun is low and back-lighting maritime scenes. Steaming silhouettes seem to arise out of the the tawny daybreak then.  

In the afternoon, after the sea smoke burns off, the same scene can look entirely different -- transformed from other-worldly beautiful to plain Down East beautiful.

Wind seems to be a key element for sea smoke. Often, as the super cold wind sweeps over the waters, the islands split the oncoming smoky spirits, leaving a slip of clear water on their lee sides. Where the islands are close-in, the churning, steaming water seems to become a forbidding moat.

However, it’s in the harbors where the sea smoke ballet is best. There, the brooding boats bob and rock in time with the wind and the rockbound shore looks on stoically.

For larger versions of the above images and one or two more, click on the link below. (We recommend that your initial viewing be in full-screen mode, which can be achieved by clicking on the Slideshow [>] icon above the featured image in the gallery to which the link will take you.) Here’s the link:

https://leightons.smugmug.com/US-States/Maine/Out/2016-in-Maine/Tis-the-Season-for-Sea-Smoke/

Cheers,

Barbara and Dick

Unceasing Love: The Bagaduce Chorale Holiday Concert

In Blue Hill, Maine (December 10, 2016)

The regionally renowned Bagaduce Chorale gave a resounding second performance of its annual Holiday Concert at the Blue Hill Congregational Church yesterday afternoon. The last of the three performances will take place December 18 at the Ellsworth High School Auditorium.

The engaging Bronwyn Kortge directed the Chorale again and Douglas Beck accompanied the group on piano and organ.

The title of the concert this year, "Unceasing Love," was taken from a poem that was set to music in Stephan Paulus’s Pilgrim’s Hymn.

That Hymn was one of 11 widely-diverging pieces on the program that ranged from Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart’s Regina Coeli to Baba Yetu, Chris Kiagri’s and Christopher Tin’s Swahili adaptation of The Lord’s Prayer. Five percussionists were added for Baba Yetu (Megan Howell, Takanao Ishimura, Peter Philbrook, Quentin Pileggi, and Deborah Reinke).

.Soprano Sarah Schneider and tenor Frank Bachman were the soloists. The string section contained four violins (Richard Hsu, Annie Painter, Byron DeGrave, and Takanao Ishimura), two violas (Ryu Mitsuhashi and Grace Higgins), and a cello (John Frankland).

During the traditional Sing-Along with the audience, the Chorale lined the sides of the Church while Director Kortge performed her hilarious “women-only,” “men only,” “both” routine.

A well-deserved standing ovation followed the formal program.

For larger versions of the above images, as well as a few additional images of the concert click on the link below. (We recommend that your initial viewing be in full-screen mode, which can be achieved by clicking on the Slideshow [>] icon above the featured image in the gallery to which the link will take you.) Here’s the link to the full concert:

https://leightons.smugmug.com/US-States/Maine/Out/2016-in-Maine/Bagaduce-Chorale/

Cheers,

Barbara and Dick

A Light Snow

In Brooklin, Maine (December 5-6, 2016)

We had one of those delicate dustings of snow that seem to dare you to come out in the cold and feel the flakes on your face. We eagerly accepted the challenge and walked through the woods, over the fields, and on the shoreline, peering through the veil of crystals. The following day, it dawned sunny and we took the same walk while the snow melted. The frosting is now gone wherever the sun reached, but we’ve preserved the following memories of the walks for ourselves and those who want to take them vicariously:

Shortly after the snow begins to fall, we head roughly north, on blue-blazed trails through our woods and those of our neighbors.

The trails end at the WoodenBoat School campus, where we turn left (roughly west) up the WBS driveway, and veer off onto the boat ramp road. Along the way, we pass the WBS student parking lot fence and some wild apples that proudly defy gravity.

The ramp road takes us down to the boat landing, where the large WBS dock is on our right (roughly north), reaching defiantly out through the snow into Great Cove.

We turn left along the Great Cove shore (roughly south). It’s high tide and, at times, we have only a few feet of land to walk on. Sometimes, we have to wade in shallow water and we give thanks for our Muck® boots. In about 10 minutes, we reach our “beach,” which is mostly under the high tide now. Our part of Great Cove’s shore curves into a small inlet. Due to the curve, we can see into the inlet as if we were out on the water.

Our inlet is a confluence: . A gurgling stream of fresh water comes down through the woods from our ponds, while the high tides carry salt water up from the other direction.

We climb the stairs up our 20-foot embankment, walk through the shore woods, and emerge at our largest pond, which is at one end of the rock wall in the middle of our north field. We walk up the field, through the garden, and onto the lawn, where the old family bench lives. We dust it off and sit in our monochromatic world for a while, just trying to Be.

The next morning, the sun comes up over our driveway trees and pierces our north woods with gold streaks.

As it gets within the tree tops, the sun lights the clouds, gives Babson Island a flash, and streaks across the north field.

We go out into the sun-speckled woods. The snow is fast disappearing around our favorite spring-fed stream. We emerge at WoodenBoat’s pond, which has frozen considerably over night.

We return via the shore and our north field, which is starting to melt where the sun reaches it. There still is snow among the wooded shadows that border the field, however. Feeding deer drift in and out of the light there, the snow iridescent around them. We stand still and watch until they saunter slowly off, not sensing us.

For larger versions of the above images, as well as a few additional images of the our walks, click on the link below. (We recommend that your initial viewing be in full-screen mode, which can be achieved by clicking on the Slideshow [>] icon above the featured image in the gallery to which the link will take you.) Here’s the link to the full virtual tour:

https://leightons.smugmug.com/US-States/Maine/Out/2016-in-Maine/A-Walk-in-Light-Snow/

Cheers,

Barbara and Dick

A Glowing Harbor Town

In Boothbay Harbor, Maine (December 3-4, 2016)

In the summer, this lovely harbor town is filled with tourists “from away”; but, in December, it’s a Mecca for tourists from Maine. They come here for the holiday lights, good food, and good cheer. Mostly, for the lights. Extraordinary numbers of private houses, town buildings, business structures, and even boats in the water are festooned with lights, including some of the most beautiful bulbous street lights you’ll ever see.

Even so, the best lights are not in the heart of town. The self-proclaimed Largest Light Show in Maine is in the upper gardens of the beautiful Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens here. Over 360,000 LED lights on about 31 miles of wire are strung among plants, trees, streams, and ponds. The show continues through December.

It’s best to arrive at the Gardens at or before twilight to see the transformation of the landscape as it disappears in phases from sparkling lushness to glowing shadows to light-studded blackness. Reflections and silhouettes come first:

As it gets darker, the vegetation starts disappearing amid the glow of thousands of lights.

As night descends, the transformation of the Gardens is complete.

If you’re in the know, you scheduled your visit to include the Annual Harbor Lights parade of vessels, after visiting the Gardens. This is a decades-old tradition in which lighted local boats parade in the harbor, some filled with tourists. It was on December 3 this year.

By now you’re chilly and hungry and eager to visit one of several good restaurants in town that stay open through December.  We recommend Cucina Italiana (Ports of Italy), if you like the best of Italian food – but get reservations.

To complete the process, stay overnight in a place with a harbor view; get up early in the morning; don warm clothing; visit the harbor and take big gulps of chilly, pure air; have a hearty breakfast, and drive home whistling your favorite holiday tune.

For larger versions of the above images, as well as additional images of the lights and harbor, click on the link below. (We recommend that your initial viewing be in full-screen mode, which can be achieved by clicking on the Slideshow [>] icon above the featured image in the gallery to which the link will take you.) Here’s the link to the full Glowing Harbor Town virtual tour:

https://leightons.smugmug.com/US-States/Maine/Out/2016-in-Maine/Boothbay-Harbor-Aglow/

Cheers,

Barbara and Dick

Postcards from Maine: the November Collection

In Hancock County, Maine

Most Native Americans gave seasonal names to each full moon as a form of oral annual calendar. The local Abenaki Tribe called the November moon Mzatanos (“Freezing River Maker Moon”). We haven’t been able to find Native American names for “Super Moons,” but such a rare full moon visited us this November, almost 70 years after the prior one. It was a beauty, with a golden crown of a penumbra:

Notwithstanding what our ancient inhabitants expected, there hasn’t been any freezing of our rivers this mild November, which continues a disturbing climate trend. However, the month otherwise was as beautifully moody as ever. November played with our local islands, sometimes swirling sea diamonds around them, sometimes making them seem to levitate.

Sometimes, November would lather the islands with bright, lively whitecaps; sometimes she would mist them with soft darkening rain.

Sometimes, November would end a pewter-colored day with a startling rose and peach sunset.

November also is a time of endings. It's when many fishermen collect their lobster traps from the water and store them and their boats on shore; virtually all small pleasure craft are brought up high and dry before or during the month.

Most Wood Ducks and Greater Yellow Legs Sandpipers take their final bows and fly south in November.

The Tamarack trees turn gold and then lose all their needles during the month.

Chokecherry berries are ripped off their stems by rain; Queen Anne’s Lace cages itself; Viburnum leaves turn scarlet and spiral to the ground; 

November also is a time for many residents, human and otherwise, to change clothes. Male American Goldfinches trade in their yellow summer slickers and black caps for something that will blend into the winter’s colors; Common Loons trade in their black suits for gray ones and move from the lakes to the open sea before the waters freeze; the rifle phase of deer hunting season ends and White Tail Deer emerge from the woods in their thick winter coats.

Also, November's dark and windy days and rippling blue-black waters are good for seeing things that aren't there -- things that were the stuff of Native American legends before the advent of the real estate era.

Many tribes had a legend about two beautiful young sisters who bathed in forbidden waters and were turned into dreadful underwater snake-mermaid spirits. Local Passamaquoddy Tribe members called the spirits NeHwas. We have reason to believe that one of these spirits reached for us in a pond near here; she's definitely no longer a beauty.

Finally, and most important, November brings us a quintessential American legend that many of us try to reenact in our own way and hope that its universal message is understood and felt personally.

(For larger versions of the above images, as well as additional images of November moments that we wish to remember, click on the link below. We recommend that your initial viewing be in full-screen mode, which can be achieved by clicking on the Slideshow [>] icon above the featured image in the gallery to which the link will take you.)

Here’s the link for the full November virtual tour:

https://leightons.smugmug.com/US-States/Maine/Out/2016-in-Maine/November-Postcards-From-Maine/

Cheers,

Barbara and Dick

Down East Super Moon

In Brooklin and Blue Hill, Maine, on November 13 and 14, 2016

Last night’s rare Super Moon came up like a molten bubble out of the darkness of Acadia National Park across Blue Hill Bay. The last time that we had one in the United States was in 1948; the next time will be 2034. This moon is “Super” because it not only is as close as it will ever get to this country, it’s also full when it arrives.

Initially, at lower levels, the sun's light turned the Moon golden.

The gravitational pull and push of this close encounter caused low tides that nearly emptied the coves around Brooklin and Blue Hill during the evenings of the 13th and 14th.

It also caused extraordinarily high tides in the mornings (almost 12-foot tides). Fortunately for the Brooklin Boat Yard, there were no significant waves, but flood warnings were issued for other areas.

As the moon gained height over Brooklin last night, it entered whispy clouds and turned silver. Then, the heavens bestowed on it a golden crown penumbra.

To see larger versions of these images, as well as a few additional ones, click on the link below:

https://leightons.smugmug.com/US-States/Maine/Out/2016-in-Maine/Down-East-Super-Moon/

Cheers,

Barbara and Dick

Postcards from Maine: the October Collection

In Hancock County, Maine

October in Down East Maine can be viewed as a three-act play. The theme of the First Act always is the peaking of foliage. The blueberry fields turn to scarlet at about the same time as the deciduous leaves send up gold, yellow, and red flares among the evergreens. In some places and at some times, the blue sky, multicolored woods, and the burnished berry fields appear to be braided together. That effect can be startlingly splendid.

There always are standout individual performers, including some that seem to be pointed out officially.

October’s Second Act contains the poignant scenes after the foliage has peaked.

The warm-cool breezes at the beginning of the month turn to chilly-cold winds in late October; morning fog is more frequent; much-needed rain arrives, sometimes in slashing sheets.

Winter is nearing; its breath can be felt.

The trees put up a fight in rain and sun, but they're doomed; the colors begin to stir, then disappear, one spiraling leaf after another.

Gradually, fruits previously nestled within leafy branches become isolated orbs in a fast-graying universe.

Many boats are put "on the hard"; sun pours through new skylights in the canopies of woods of mixed deciduous and conifer trees.

As the Second Act ends, Chokecherry, Bittersweet, and other berries are left standing exposed.

October’s plot turns darker in Act Three. As the once-vibrant leaves die, there is a macabre celebration of evil and dead spirits. (Scare contests such as that hosted by Mainescape in Blue Hill feature witches and skeletons; Jack-o-lanterns, originated to ward off such spirits, appear on porches.)

This year, October's play ends with a unique encore: the spirits of two Presidential candidates come to haunt us at the Brooklin Inn.

For larger versions of the above images, as well as additional images of October moments that we wish to remember, click on the link below. (We recommend that your initial viewing be in full-screen mode, which can be achieved by clicking on the Slideshow [>] icon above the featured image in the gallery to which the link will take you.) Here’s the link for to the full October virtual tour:

https://leightons.smugmug.com/US-States/Maine/Out/2016-in-Maine/October-Postcards-from-Maine/

Cheers,

Barbara and Dick

The Dangerous Coast and the Safe Haven

On Schoodic Peninsula (October 2016)

It's low tide at Schoodic Point. The golden light on this October afternoon warms the ledges of granite that cascade down into the sea. It's a calm day, but it's easy to imagine the danger of this rockbound coast to those who once used nothing but a paddle, oar, or sails to navigate wooden boats in these cold and often stormy waters.

The original Passamaquoddy tribe navigators here named this peninsula "Skute-Auke" (burned land), which later was transmogrified into English as "Schoodic." The tip of the peninsula, Schoodic Point, is now the only part of Acadia National Park that's not on an island. The Point is a very popular tourist attraction during "the season," but there are few tourists here now to see the windswept spruces stand serenely over the austere, but magnificent, landscape.

Nonetheless, there is danger within this beautiful serenity. This is where the tides continue their eternal war against the slanting, sharpened coast. Where careless tourists and their pets have slipped off wet stone or been drawn into the churning coldness and suffered a hideous death.

The seafarers who have lived in this area for centuries did not settle here.  They always have sheltered in nearby natural havens. One of these once was called Indian Harbor, a White Man's reference to the original Passamaquoddy settlers who congregated in the harbor. In 1896, that name was changed to Corea (pronounced Korea). Why it was changed to Corea seems to be a matter of conjecture. One theory is that it was named in honor of Korea, which sometimes was spelled Corea in the 19th Century. (Maine also has a town called China.) Despite the mysterious name, there is no debate over the fact that Corea has a calendar-worthy harbor.

One notable aspect of Corea Harbor is the Lobster fishing gear, especially ropes, lying around everywhere. Some is arranged artfully, although most is stored in purely utilitarian form.

But the realistic art is in the water, where the graceful sweeping bows continually swing slowly into the changing winds.

Finally, we would be remiss if we did not pause a moment in another picturesque place with a Passamaquoddy name:  Wonsqueak Harbor, which is between Schoodic Point and Corea. This shallow cove contains a unique bit of functional architecture that is best seen at low tide, when the little harbor's water virtually disappears.

That concludes the narrated part of our virtual tour. To view larger versions of these images and a few others, click on the link below. (We recommend that your first viewing be in full-frame mode, which you can achieve by clicking the Slideshow button [>] on the gallery to which the link will take you.) Here's that link:

https://leightons.smugmug.com/US-States/Maine/Out/2016-in-Maine/Schoodic-Point-and-Corea-Harbo/

Cheers,

Barbara and Dick

Postcards from Maine: The September Collection

In Hancock and Waldo Counties

September is the poignant month. It's when warm Summer slips away and increasingly chilly dawns foretell what is to come.

September is notable for being a favorite of artists. Paul Emile Chabas, in his painting September Morn, uses that rising sun to gild the innocence of a young woman bathing near the shore.

Amy Lowell, in her poem Late September, senses the “tang of fruitage in the air” and, in Earth, Wind & Fire’s September, the month is when “golden dreams were shiny days.”

And, of course, in Maxwell Anderson's allegorical lyrics to September Song, the month becomes human as “the days grow short” and “one hasn’t the time for a waiting game.”

Yes, the days start to get shorter and shorter and cooler and cooler in September. But, there is recompense for those changes here: the dawns and sunsets get more and more beautiful and more precious.

Between sunrise and sunset, September’s shiny days are filled with activity; there’s no waiting game. First, there’s work, including fishing and mowing.

There also are many country fairs for play and education.

There even are vintage car rallies and historic schooner sail-ins.

Although few of our trees have yet to change dramatically in September, many of our Wood Ducks already have emerged from their summer molts and regained their unique splendor during this short month.

September also is a time for us to change our perspectives, even if we cannot regain the beauty of youth.

Larger versions of these images and those of other September memories can be seen by clicking the link below. (We recommend that your initial viewing of these images be in full-screen mode.  You can achieve this by clicking the Slideshow icon [>] above the gallery to which the link will take you.) Here’s the link:

https://leightons.smugmug.com/US-States/Maine/Out/2016-in-Maine/September-Postcards-From-Maine/

Cheers,

Barbara and Dick

Seeking Common Ground

In Unity, Maine (September 25, 2016)

We’re in the big sky part of Waldo County, where picturesque farms cling to rolling hills and stratocumulus clouds stream above them. The sun is bright, but those clouds are gathering into family meetings; they’re beginning to cast large magic carpet shadows that sweep over the woods and pastures and us. It's getting on the cold side of chilly.

We -- and tens of thousands of others -- don't worry about the weather, though. We're making the annual pilgrimage to the renowned Common Ground Country Fair.

If there is such a thing as a serious country fair, the Common Ground is such a thing. There are no Ferris wheels or other carnival rides, nor is there a midway to shoot darts and other things at balloons and other things in the hopes of winning teddy bears and other things. This is different; it’s sponsored by the Maine Organic Farmers and Gardeners. This is where people come to touch and inspect vegetables and animals, while getting educated on current issues that are important to Maine.

Our Internet research failed to disclose an explanation for naming the Fair the “Common Ground.” Perhaps it's a clever play on words: “common ground” is a term used for a basis on which differing people can agree; it also is a place where rural people can stand and raise food and animals. The Fair is a celebration of rural life and an attempt to educate all of us on why that life should be perfected and protected against today's threats.

A significant part of the Fair is devoted to presentations on the environment and community relations. These are not photogenic events. But, some of the hands-on education is photogenic, such as how to milk a goat.

Although this Fair is serious, that doesn’t mean it’s for the dour. This place is full of smiles that span the ages: a smiling little girl showing her pony with the help of her smiling sister, a master spinner smiling at her work.

To be sure, there are hair-raising moments, but these are more than balanced by the moments of mutual content.

It is true, however, that some of the demonstrators do give other demonstrators the evil eye and spook them.

In the end, however, we learn a secret here today: life is a colorful hula hoop. (Life is hard to get going right and even harder to keep going right, but we must continue to try, in spite of setbacks.)

You can't buy cotton candy here, but they do sell huge hula hoops.

For larger versions of these images and a few additional ones of the 2016 Common Ground Fair, click the link below. (We recommend that the initial viewing be in full screen mode, which can be achieved by using the Slideshow [>] function on the gallery to which the link takes you.) Here’s the link:

https://leightons.smugmug.com/US-States/Maine/Out/2016-in-Maine/The-Common-Ground-Country-Fair/

Cheers,

Barbara and Dick

Bugs Invade Brooklin!

In Brooklin, Maine (September 16, 2016)

We hear them getting louder and louder: Braaaap, BRAAP, Braaaaaap. They’re hidden on the other side of the hill, climbing up its dusty lane toward us. We wait on our side of the hill, seeing just the empty part of the lane wind down to us. It peaks into a horizon of nothing but blue sky and white clouds, looking like a road from eternity.

Finally, a Bug loudly crests the hill and descends toward us. It’s big-eyed. So are we.

We’re at a Bugatti mini-rally on the beautiful WoodenBoat School campus. Ten of the cars have been driven over from the American Bugatti Club Fall Rally in nearby Northport. These are vintage classics from the jazz-age and The Great Gatsby era. They're take-off-the-fenders-and-race-around-Paris cars, as well as swooping grand sedans for touring southern France and Spain before World War II.

These vintage vehicles are cramped pieces of machinery that may need hand-cranking to start; they’re also not easy to drive. But they're easy on the eyes.

The cars embody the vision of Italian-born Ettore Bugatti, who founded, in 1909, what became a French car manufacturing firm bearing his name. Ettore was born into a family of artists and considered his cars high-performance works of art. The public generally agreed, although most couldn't afford a Bugatti.

Only about 8,000 Bugattis were made by Ettore’s company, which floundered in 1947 when Ettore died. The Bugatti brand was revived in the 1990’s and (ironically) bought by Volkswagen, which means “People’s Car.” (VW promotes the new, swooping Bugattis as the fastest street-legal cars in the world and sells them at prices ranging from about $1.7 to $2.7 million apiece. You don’t have to crank a new one to start it, we hear. We also hear that Patriots quarterback Tom Brady scrambles around Boston in a modern version.)

Nonetheless, we’d rather travel Maine’s country roads in one of Ettore’s creations. Or, at least watch them go by.

For more and larger versions of the images in this posting, click on the link below. (We recommend that your initial viewing of these images be in full-screen/slideshow mode. To do this, click the Slideshow icon [>] at the top right of the gallery to which the link takes you.) Here’s the link:

https://leightons.smugmug.com/US-States/Maine/Out/2016-in-Maine/Vintage-Bugatti-Rally/

Cheers,

Barbara and Dick

Windjammers Galore!

On Great Cove, Brooklin, Maine (September 13-14, 2016)

You’re at WoodenBoat’s 30th Annual Sail-In and you’ll soon have the best seats possible.

You’ll be out on the water in a WoodenBoat School (WBS) skiff to greet 10 historic schooners when they come barreling into the choppy Cove, flags and pennants flying.

Six of these windjammers are old-timers that hauled granite, coal, timber, and other commodities along the Atlantic coast during the 19th and early 20th Centuries: the Lewis R. French and Stephen Taber  (both launched in 1871); Grace Bailey (1882); Victory Chimes (1900); J&E Riggin (1927), and American Eagle (1930).

The schooners are under a brilliant afternoon sun and their bow waves are high. If you're lucky, you'll see bow wave reflections in churning flashes on their hulls. And, if you're really lucky, you'll see a schooner cowboy bulldogging a reflective bow.

There's a good reason for the schooners to hurry: awaiting them at WBS are delicious steamed mussels, rousing steel band music, and engaging talk about building and sailing boats.

You’ll be out there on the water again early the next morning to watch the sun’s first rays gild the schooners while the mouth-watering aroma of strong coffee, baking bread, and sizzling bacon seeps from the ships’ galleys and wafts over the becalmed Cove.

And, you’ll also be there as the schooners weigh anchor in the soft light and leave the Cove under gathering clouds.

You’ll be doing all this as a virtual member of WBS’s Marine Photography II class. MP II is an intense, five-day course designed primarily for advanced study, although a few less experienced photographers sometimes attend. It’s a very warmhearted boot camp run by Jon Strout and Jane Peterson, both excellent photographers and teachers who helped us to better see the parts and the whole of things. 

The unusual (if not unique) opportunity offered by WBS does have its difficulties for photographers who love the sea and sea-going things: the experience is like drinking from a fire hydrant, as one classmate put it.  That is, we frantically take an enormous number of images that have to be culled and edited.

To see more images, in a larger format, click on the link below. (For a full-screen presentation, use the Slideshow function in the gallery to which the link will take you.) Here’s the link:

https://leightons.smugmug.com/US-States/Maine/Windjammers-and-Other-Boats/Schooners/2016-WoodenBoat-SailIn/

Cheers,

Barbara and Dick