In the Right Place: Thawing

This is late yesterday morning on the Naskeag Point sandbar, just as the January thaw is getting a little nasty. The snow is virtually gone, thanks to early morning temperatures that peaked at 55 degrees (F); but, the mercury is now plummeting, beginning a journey to 13 degrees for yesterday’s low. The wind here is gusting up to 32 miles per hour and the drizzle almost stings.

A neighbor and her staunch terrier appear to find all this exhilarating. We certainly do. Maybe you have to be a little different to winter here. (Brooklin, Maine) Way to go, Pats!

In the Right Place: Ode to a Maineian Urn

We’ve decided that the grace of ancient-looking urns is best appreciated in Maine snow, not Mediterranean sun -- especially when the urns are designed and hand-made here.

Above is an image of one of many magnificent winter-proof (concrete and steel) garden urns by Phid Lawless, Dan Farrenkoph, and their crew at world-renowned Lunaform LLC, up the road a piece in Sullivan.

Here's another urn that is spending its winter vacation here:

Finally, here's a winterized Lunaform bird bath:

(Brooklin, Maine) Go Pats!

In the Right Place: Weeping

There’s a mystery in the Brooklin Cemetery. A semi-rare Camperdown Elm is the centerpiece there. Its branches writhe over the grave of Brooklin’s Rodney S. Blake, a crew member who drowned when the paddlewheel steamer Portland sunk in 1898 and all aboard perished. Here's an image of the tree taken last week:

This human-engineered weeping elm, which appears to be over 100 years old, had to be put in the Cemetery deliberately – Camperdowns can’t be grown from seed; they’re “cultivars” created by grafting. But, no record of any planting or grafting of this tree has been found. Materials in the well-regarded Brooklin Keeping Society show that research into the tree’s origins was unsuccessful; Blake's granddaughter is quoted there as saying that no family lore about the tree exists.

During the summer, the Camperdown weeps lush leaves over the leaning gravestones:

While the history of our tree is not clear, the history of the Camperdown Elm species is. About 1837, David Taylor, the chief forester on the Earl of Camperdown’s estate in Dundee, Scotland, discovered a young mutant Wych Elm in the forest. The tree had an interesting weeping and contorted shape and was replanted as a feature on the Earl’s house grounds, where it is today. Taylor grafted a cutting of that “sport” tree to a trunk of a normal Wych Elm, producing a weeping cultivar now known as a Camperdown Elm (Ulmus glaba ‘Camperdownii’).

All subsequent Camperdowns are part of a line of cuttings that started with that original tree. The trees were very popular in the late 19th and early 20th Centuries. They are perhaps at their most dramatic during snow storms, such as this one in Brooklin:

Curiously, the Brooklin Cemetery's Camperdown seems to be ignored by most tourists. Perhaps this is because visitors from away mostly come to see the nearby gravestones of Brooklin’s most famous couple, author E.B. White (Charlotte's Web, etc.) and his wife, New Yorker Magazine Fiction Editor and author (Onward and Upward in the Garden) Katherine Sergeant White.

(Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Jail Bird

Barred Owls are slightly easier to see during cold winter days because they often emerge from the shadows to soak up sun. Identifying a Barred Owl is easy. They’re the only common owl in Maine with dark eyes. (Barn Owls have dark eyes and occasionally visit southern Maine.)

All other northeastern owls have bright yellow eyes, including the Great Horned and Short-Eared Owls, both captives, shown below.

Barred Owls get their name from the vertical, jail-like bars on their chests, which are quite different from the horizontal spots on the otherwise similar Spotted Owls of the west. (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Tiny Dancer

Ever since November, we’ve been worrying about an undersized, late-born fawn surviving the cold spells and snow storms of the winter here. We saw her and her Mother a few days after Christmas, when she had to do a lot of jumping and springing – balletic at times – to keep up with her mother in the snow. Our primary concern was her ability to outrun coyotes in these conditions. She disappeared then.

So, it was with relief and joy that we spotted her, her mother, and six other White-Tails on Monday (January 8). The image of her above was taken then. She seems spunky; her odds of making it increase each day. (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Group Therapy

This is pickup truck country, as shown by this good looking group of trucks congregated at Naskeag Point last week.

We want to use a fancy collective name to describe these trucks, but we can’t think of one. After all, if they were a group of starlings, we could say: “There’s a Murmuration of Starlings!” What’s a memorable collective to describe this group of vehicles? “A Swagger of Trucks?” “A Pride of Pickups?” “A Bumpering of Trucks?” Suggestions welcome. (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Your Brooklin Weather Report

Here we have yesterday’s sunset afterglow just before night took control – almost other-worldly. The day’s light is lingering noticeably longer now; this image was taken about 4:20 yesterday afternoon, when it would have been dark prior to the winter solstice.  

And, today, the grip of the seemingly interminable and bitter cold spell seems to have been loosened; it was 20 degrees (Fahrenheit) at 9 a.m. this morning. We had light snow last night, which is supposed to resume later today. All is well. (Brooklin, Maine)

The Right Place: The Pierced Heart Mystery

Hope and love are associated with this Amaryllis.  The hope starts around Thanksgiving, when we buy its bulb in a little plastic flower pot of dirt. We put the pot near a sunny window, keep the bulb moist, and greenery soon sprouts. Early in the new year, as we see here, one of its elegant flowers is looking out the window marveling at the snow as another bows gracefully to us. Hope fulfilled.

Oh yes, the love: that comes from the purported Greek myth about the flower’s origin. Amaryllis, a nymph, loved Alteo the shepherd, who didn’t return her love. She pierced her heart with a golden arrow and drops of her blood spilled on the path she took to plead with Alteo. After 30 days, each drop grew into a beautiful flower, which made Alteo fall in love with Amaryllis.

In actuality, the Amaryllis originated in South Africa and its bulb cultivation began in the early 1700s. (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Turning

When walking on a darkened, snow-sprinkling day, it’s always reassuring to turn around and catch a cute, shy house spying on us from behind its lovely landscape – or, at least, to see a familiar sight in a new way.

(Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Bombast

Well, as far as our little piece of heaven on earth goes, yesterday’s “Bomb Cyclone” was a bust. It did have its intriguing snow-blown moments and the tide did flood the town dock at Naskeag Harbor, but we expected more after all that media hype. Maybe it’s because we’ve become a bit blasé about bombogenesis, unlike those to the south who see less of it. Here’s the beginning of the flooding of the dock:

The red barn on Flye Point ridge became muted, but nicely so:

Familiar things started to be transformed early:

A very high tide engulfed all of the Naskeag Point sandbar until the Point became a mere nubbin.

It got darker:

And darker:

A black night descended, but this morning the North Field was all light and purity.

Oh, yes, Jerry Gray's crew had to disturb that beauty a bit so that we can get out of our driveway today and go into Town:

(Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Bombs Away!

The difference between yesterday and today promises to be startling. Sunny yesterday’s reported 29-degree temperature (Fahrenheit) broke the back of a record-long cold spell that never reached 20 degrees.

Small coves and bays – such as Surry’s Patten Bay above and below – had been iced-in for days. Both images were taken yesterday.

As we speak, it's snowing lightly here. This flurry is forecast to turn into a nor’easter blizzard (Winter Storm Grayson) that will sweep in from the sea and swallow us, bringing significant snow accumulation, high winds, coastal flooding, and bitter cold. It’s supposed to be a “Bomb Cyclone” (scientifically, “Bombogenesis” or “Clyclogenesis”) of low pressure and cyclonic (circling) winds. Hang on! (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Seeing the Signs

There’s an old saying that the sight of the first American Robin of the year means that Spring has arrived. Well, if that Robin has a worm in its mouth, maybe; if it’s singing a mating song, probably. But, if that Robin is digging for snow-buried fruit during a seven-degree morning, you might want to repress any impulse to go outside in your Birkenstocks.

Maine and most other states are hosts to some all-year Robins; we also get a few Canadian Robins that take winter vacations here. However, it seems that Robins are ignored by most of us until Spring, when they high-step and drill for food in the grass and sing loudly from trees. (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Letting Go

This is last night’s first sunset of the New Year here: The North Field and Great Cove darken as the sun begins to slide behind Deer Isle; it’s reluctant to let go of the tassels on the switchgrass.

(Brooklin, Maine)

December Post Cards From Maine

December of 2017 began relatively balmy and then the snow and cold came, transforming moss-lined streams to ice sculptures and fields to fairylands.

The freezing winds blew across the warmer ocean creating sea smoke from dawn to dusk.

Celestial events included full and crescent moons sailing over the sea and red sunsets, the sailor's delight.

Occasional new snow flurries sugared the waterfront.

There was, however, a calamity involving the Matilda Bay, shown immediately below in one of the flurries. A few days after this image was taken, she sank, apparently having been swamped during heavy night winds. That's a heartbreaking event, but our fishing community takes care of its own. In bitter weather, a group of fishermen recovered the Matilda Bay and she was towed to a repair facility. That recovery was a proud moment and is the subject of a special Journal edition earlier in the month.

In between flurries earlier in the month, the snows would melt and the deer would play. At the time, it was a little early for the red-nosed variety to browse.

In the end, however, December is a month for celebrating religious and secular holidays. Our neighbor Judith Fuller displays road banners to remind us of that and brighten our days. One of the highlights of the entire year is the December concert of festive music by the Bagaduce Chorale, which performed an excellent program with a large orchestra this year in nearby Blue Hill.

For larger versions of the above images, as well as many additional images of special moments in this January, 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 more:

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

(Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Fake News

Big Foot Found Buried Alive in Small Maine Town! Or, perhaps we found a snowy old stump with a Red-Belted Polypore mushroom hanging on it.

(Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Expectation

December 30, 2017

Here we see the loneliness of a Maine summer residence in a winter snow flurry. However, when the sun comes out and the sky is blue and the house is reflected in the icy water, the mood changes to one pleasant expectation.

This house is on Harbor Island, one of the islands that shelter our Naskeag Harbor. (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Dilemmas

We take a trail that shows no sign of humanity since it snowed; we crunch along for a while, stop, and stand still to join the silence; we turn around and see our alien footprints chasing us; it’s then that we remember that we sometimes need to defile untouched beauty a bit to enjoy it: the eternal dilemma.

(Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Sea Smoke From Dawn to Dusk

Our first significant sea smoke wafted across local waters early this morning. Here we see Naskeag Harbor as the sun and the smoke rise.

Here we have smoke in Great Cove a little later in the day:

Sea smoke is not fog. Sea smoke is an atmospheric reaction between very cold winds flowing over significantly warmer (albeit also cold) waters. (Fog, basically, is a low-flying cloud.)

As of mid-morning, the recorded temperature increased to 1 degree Fahrenheit, the wind was gusting at 18 miles per hour, and the water temperature at the surface was 46.4 degrees, according to local reports. As of dusk, Great Cove was still smoking:

(Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Delight

Here we have last night’s red sunset, which signaled that today would be clear. (“Red sky at night, sailors’ delight/Red sky at morning, sailors take warning.”)

The forecast was correct: Today dawned clear, sunny, cold, and windy. As we speak, according to the North Brooklin weather station, it’s 9 measured degrees (F) and the wind is gusting at 17 miles per hour, creating a wind chill of (“feels like”) 1 degree. Great Cove is slate blue, edged with ice, and full of whitecaps. Bracing! (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Alive

We had a small, powdery snowstorm yesterday, the kind that’s good for holiday party-going over a thick, white carpet under coated trees. Even better, the morning dawned sunny blue and white and brisk.

The loud crunching of our boots in the silent, snow-covered woods and marshes seemed profane. But, when we stood still, the silence poured back onto us, almost liquid, freeing us to feel alive without the need to wonder why. (Brooklin, Maine)