In the Right Place: Commanding

This is the semi-mountain named Blue Hill as it looked on Thursday (February 25). As you can see, it is gray in the winter.

It’s green in spring and summer:

Leighton Archive Image (Taken from a Helicopter)

And, it’s mostly yellow and red in fall.:

Leighton Archive Image

That is, Blue Hill is not blue, except perhaps occasionally in a haze when everything is a bit blue.

However, historical reports tell us that the Hill had a real blue tint up through most of the 18th Century, when its commanding view of the area made it a landmark. In 1762, the Town of Blue Hill was formed at its base near the bay, which was named (you guessed it) Blue Hill Bay.

The Town, ironically, was formed in large part to make it easier to cut down many of the tall conifer trees that gave the Hill its blueish hue. Among other reasons, fine, straight trees were in demand for masts and other parts of England’s Royal Navy before the Revolution. The Hill’s principal rock, granite, which helps turn the hump gray near the top, also was in demand and was another major reason that the Town was formed.

Nonetheless, as you see above, Blue Hill remains a landmark and commands a lush green area in the summer, when tourists come; not to cut it, but to join residents and walk its trails. (Blue Hill, Maine)

In the Right Place: Almost There

Yesterday afternoon, the conditions were right on the Blue Hill Peninsula to get a good daylight view of the rising moon. This month’s moon orbit is fairly close to the earth (about 238,937 miles away now) and there will be a full moon tomorrow. Thus, yesterday’s moon was almost “full” (100 percent illumination); it was more than half full and getting full (“waxing gibbous”).

Yesterday, the low-slanting light from the setting sun caught the rising moon and illuminated it before it rose very high relative to us. Thus, at 5 p.m. in darkening Connery Cove, we could make out the moon’s craters with unaided eyes and see them fairly clearly with relatively low enlargement (e.g., a 200 mm lens here).

(Blue Hill, Maine)

In the Right Place: Important

Here, we see our State and National flags outside the Town Offices yesterday. They’re at half-mast in honor of Covid-19 victims, per order of Maine Governor Janet Mills. Our veterans’ (MIA/POW) flag on the right has been lowered accordingly.

The National flag at our Post Office also is at half-mast, per order of President Joseph Biden for all federal sites.

The latest published State data report that 43,900 Mainers have contracted the virus and, of these, 677 died of it. The latest Federal data report that 28,065,327 people in the United States have contracted the virus and, of these, 501,181 have died of it.

Please mask-up in public and follow the other virus-protection guidelines. It doesn’t get more important than this. (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Vitamins

This gnarly beauty has had a commanding view of this field for over a century. It’s what the Maine Extension Service calls a “wild apple tree.” That is, it’s a tree that originated in a commercial orchard or was planted to supply a homestead farm with fruit, but has been abandoned as a primary fruit producer.

Wild apple trees may be pruned by their owners or left to “go natural”; their apples may be pressed for home cider, or the trees may be left to supply shelter and/or food for wildlife, including White-Tailed Deer and more than 30 species of birds.

Apple trees are not native to this country. They were brought to Maine initially in the 16th Century by European fisherman who planted them on our sea islands and in coastal areas where the men camped. They provided much-needed vitamin C and fiber to the fishermen. (Brooklin, Maine; image taken February 20, 2021)

In the Right Place: Portrait of a Working Woman

The light at Naskeag Harbor on Sunday afternoon (February 20) would have thrilled Rembrandt, a genius at using sunlight and shadow to give his portraits life and dimension.

Here, we see Dear Abbie: resting in the Harbor on that day off. She’s basking in the last of the sunlight and seems to be smiling mysteriously.

Abbie: is wearing her winter scalloping outfit now, with a mast, boom, and (hidden from view) dredging equipment and a temporary shelling hut where the delicious mollusk muscles that we eat are shucked out of their shells.

In the summer, that equipment will be stored and Abbie: will be running her lobster traps in warmer water, still smiling mysteriously. (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: A Winter Moment

The afternoon sun heats up the living quarters of this connected house, while maple trees throw a filigree of shadows over the white snow and a tall spruce measures itself against the big barn: visual poetry of the rural kind.

(Brooklin, Maine; February 20, 2021)

In the Right Place: Jealousy

Yesterday, while at Naskeag Harbor, I noticed a slow-moving reflection on the clear horizon. At first, it seemed to be a school of big fish or perhaps a whale or two, but the movement proved to be too slow and the water was not being disturbed much.

As it came closer, I wondered “Is that a man paddling a silver canoe in open water in the middle of winter?” The movement got closer and entered deeper into the Harbor: It definitely was a man. He was wearing a bulky winter jacket under a bulkier life vest and paddling slowly. He seemed to be enjoying the clear, 28-degree weather and the quiet ride.

However, what he was paddling wasn’t your traditional canoe. Let’s call it a canoe-like object. It had a translucent plastic hull that appeared to have been put together mostly with vertical strips of tape that gave the vessel the appearance of a floating fence. On the other hand, the vessel probably was very light and easy to swing up into a truck or onto a car top.

This winter apparition continued slowly on, over the Harbor Bar, and around the shrub-lined bend until it was gone from my sight. It left me with a strange feeling – mostly jealousy, I think. (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Rooms with a View

Here, we catch two local thieves in Barbara’s garden on Thursday (February 18); they’re eating the “deer-resistant” enkianthus.

Banging on the office window doesn’t make “our” White-Tails run anymore; we have to go downstairs, run outside, and ring our loud goat bell before they’ll bolt. As to these two, I just let them browse; it was cold (28F) and I was lazy. (Don’t tell Barbara.)

Here, we also see three local delinquents yesterday outside our kitchen:

They’re, planning who goes first in their game of waiting to run across our driveway just in time to make me brake and swerve and slide on the ice. It’s hilarious fun for bored Wild Turkeys. (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Swans

In the Right Place: Swans

It seems like “New England connected houses” look even better with a little snow around them on a sharp-winded day. That’s probably because it is then that they’re in their element, having been designed to make farms more livable during harsh New England winters. (The swans-look-better-in-water theory.)

In any case, here are two of the many Brooklin connected houses in their winter coats for our summer resident friends. They only see them when the grass is green and the leaves are stirring.

(Brooklin, Maine; images taken February 15, 2021)

In the Right Place: Making Memories

The ice crust on much of our snow has added sledding speed to our sloping fields. And, with that speed, came squeals of uncontrollable joy from two children yesterday. Here, you see a girl sliding and spinning and screaming on her descending disc:

IBelow, you see a boy (her brother?) shouting while taking a straighter course in a plastic sled. A smiling young woman (their mother?) joined them in her own larger plastic sled.

It looked like one of those moments of pure fun that will be remembered by the children when they are middle-aged or older and they tell stories about the “winter of 2021 in Maine.” (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Before and After

Here, we see the tide hurtling out of Salt Pond at Blue Hill Falls, as the fringes of this week’s arctic storm arrived on Monday (February 15). Common Eiders patrolled the edges of the whitewater while Herring Gulls sallied above.

Below, we see today’s bright sun beaming down on our North Field, Great Cove, and Eggemoggin Reach:

When this image was taken (about 9:45 a.m.), the temperature was 20 degrees (F) with a wind chill of 6; the wind was 15 miles per hour, with gusts of 27 kicking up the Cove. Most of the snow had turned to ice that was hard enough for a man with a camera and a cane to walk on. (Blue Hill and Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Payback

The dreadful winter storm that swept up from south Texas arrived here last night with a wet whimper. Mixtures of rain, sleet, and snow prevailed today, as you can see from this image here of a rain chain and precipitation around it.

The storm is leaving a dangerous combination of ice and slush on the roads and driveways, even after plowing and spreading anti-freeze compounds, as you can see from this image at Naskeag Point today:

Tomorrow is forecast to return to below freezing temperatures, which may mean plenty of black ice on the roads. This weather apparently is a payback for our mild January. (Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Warnings

It probably won’t surprise you to know that, locally, this place is named “The Point.” It is the end of Naskeag Point Road, which stops at Naskeag Harbor.

More specifically, this is The Point as it was at 11:20 a.m. today. It’s always changing, due to tides, weather, and any fishing vessel or sightseer activity. The gravelly beach and nearby Town Dock often get the brunt of bad weather and we’re due for some this evening.

We’ve been receiving “urgent winter warnings” all morning that the historic winter storm that has been sweeping all the way up from south Texas will reach here about 11 p.m., bringing 5 to 9 inches of snow, one half an inch of ice, bitter cold, and high speed winds. Power outages are expected.

It’s best not to think about that now. Why not remember The Point as it was on August 9, 2020 for the couple who weren’t worried about plague, politics, or climate change?

(Brooklin, Maine)

In the Right Place: Vibrance

It’s Valentine’s Day and we offer our female friends a handsome male that will say “Pretty-Pretty-Pretty” when they walk by. He’s red, the color most associated with passion, love, and joy, and he’s starting to pose for a potential spouse to whom he’ll be faithful this year.

Yes, he’s a Northern Cardinal, a bird that usually starts breeding in March, but already is fighting over a territory that he has picked. That’s where his control ends. He has to be chosen by a dusky female Cardinal to mate and they are very picky and clever birds.

Female Cardinals are one of the few female birds that will sing back to males during courtship. Research also shows that the females try to pick the reddest male Cardinal available for a mate, since vibrance is an indicator of good health and lineage. (Brooklin, Maine; Leighton Archive images shown)

In the Right Place: Magnified

It’s been very cold this week here on the coast of Maine. But, it’s also been squintingly bright on many days, with full sun being magnified by snow-covered fields that have turned to ice in many areas. Wooded lanes and driveways to occupied houses have been plowed, but many of these also are still icy in spots.

Nonetheless, many of the country lanes are especially picturesque when the sun streams through the woods onto the snow. Here, you see images of a local lane that we photograph regularly for a historical record of our area.

(Brooklin, Maine; images taken on February 11, 2021)

In the Right Place: Say It With Flowers

This image appeared yesterday in our monthly column in the Ellsworth American. Click on the image to enlarge it.

To read the column, click here: http://www.5backroad.com/montly-column

In the Right Place: Only In Maine

This place likely will not appear on the cover of “Architectural Digest” soon, but I look forward to seeing it every time I take the back roads shortcut to Bangor.

Maybe it was John Wayne’s birthplace, which he successfully defended against a dozen bandits when he was six years old. (Near Dedham, Maine, on February 8, 2021)

In the Right Place: Somewhere After the Rainbow

Take one more look at the historic Blue Hill Falls Rainbow Bridge in Blue Hill, Maine. It soon will be only a memory.

Leighton Archive Image

Technically, it’s a “Concrete-Tied Rainbow Through Arch Fixed Bridge” that started to deteriorate slowly the day that it was built in 1926. It’s now at the point where patching and shoring won’t help; it needs to be restored at great expense or replaced, and it looks like replacement with a modern girder bridge is the leading option.

Leighton Archive Image

The Blue Hill concrete rainbow is one of only two such bridges remaining in the State and it is the more beautiful one. The other rainbow is in Lewiston and was built in 1927.

Leighton Archive Image

(Blue Hill, Maine)

In the Right Place: Looking Around

Last week, I saw a mature Bald Eagle apparently fishing. It was a dank day and she was circling high in a gray sky over gray swells in Eggemoggin Reach. (Sex assumed from her large size.) She was flying at a height of at least four football fields (1200 feet). My big lens did not reveal any ducks or other surface swimmers below her. What could she see under the moving water from such heights? A lot.

I recalled a fascinating lecture on Golden and Bald Eagle eyesight that I had attended years ago at the Blackwater National Wildlife Refuge on the Chesapeake Bay. I got out my notes and found the images I had taken there of two of the Refuge’s patients: a Bald Eagle and a Golden Eagle, both of which were recuperating from wounds. (Two of those images are shown here.)

Bald Eagle (Leighton Archive Image)e)

Notice the large eyes of these birds relative to the rest of their bodies. Those eyes are about the same size as the eyes of adult humans and are reportedly larger than the birds’ brains. They can see up to eight times better than humans, researchers say.

 An Eagle’s eye sockets are angled to give the birds an amazing 340-degree field of vision, which is both binocular (when its two eyes are focusing on a rabbit or fish two miles away, for example) and peripheral (when it’s focusing each eye differently and scanning the surrounding sky to avoid other eagles or crows, for example).

Golden Eagle (Leighton Archive Image)

However, Eagles’ eyes are so tightly fit into their sockets that they usually have to move their heads slightly to focus both eyes on single targets. Thus, their large heads are seemingly always moving when they’re focusing both eyes on their surroundings. When perched, this sometimes looks like they’re shaking their heads to music, but it’s only their way of “looking around.” (Brooklin, Maine).

In the Right Place: Calmness

Yesterday’s snowstorm that continued into last night was the kind of weather that we like while watching the Superbowl in a state of “snugginess.” (The Superbowl playing, itself, was the kind of massacre that goes well in this Patriots territory, especially with pizza, beer, indigestion, and an occasional Brady-to-Gronk touchdown.)

This morning, by contrast, we awakened to a pure white calmness: the quiet beginning of another kind of perfection: a cold, clear winter’s day when you think that you can see forever. Above, you see the early sun arriving on the North Field, which slopes down to Great Cove.

Below, you see the early sun rising over the trees on the ridge above the field.

(Brooklin, Maine)