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.)

In the Right Place: Golden Globe Reward

Here you see the visually full moon as massive clouds swirl in the sky at a little after 1 a.m. today. The slightly golden or reddish hue is caused by the orb’s unusually low position as viewed through our atmosphere. Gaps in the clouds allowed a clear sight of the golden globe this morning:

The June 2025 full moon technically will occur (be at its fullest) after most sane people go to bed here tonight (3:44 a.m. June 11, to be precise). It is the lowest full moon that we’ve experienced since 2006 due to a “lunar standstill,” which is a complex phenomenon involving views of the moon’s tilted orbit relative to the celestial equator.

The June full moon traditionally is called the Strawberry Moon because it coincided with the Algonquin strawberry harvest season in the northeastern United States. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, June 10, 2025.)

In the Right Place: Almost Time to Howl

Our wild lupines are nearing peak, when their pea-like flowers will have fully crested the plants’ mountainish flowerhead:

The perennial wild plant’s scientific name is Lupinus perennis. Lupinus means “of the wolf,” an indication that the lovely plants tend to run in packs that ravage the areas where they grow. They’re also known as quaker bonnets and bluebonnets for those who want to be sedate.

Lupins are members of the legume/pea family, as their flowers indicate. However, they also have large, spectacular radiating leaves at the end of long stalks. The leaflets and stems initially are hairy and can become smooth with age.

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

In the Right Place: How Dry I Am – Not

Here you see cascades of freshwater flowing from Patten Stream into salty Patten Bay at low tide yesterday. Sprinkling light rain is bringing out a damp lushness to the surrounding green leaves and orangey rockweed and rock lichens there. However, within minutes, everything turned much darker, and a monsoon-like shower strafed the area, drenching Yours Truly:

But all was well. Here in Down East Maine, we’ve recovered from last year’s moderate drought and abnormally dry conditions. Only a small area in the southeast part of the state remains abnormally dry as of last week’s report. A little drenching now and then is better than wells going dry now and then. (Images taken in Surry, Maine, on June 7, 2025.)

In the Right Place: Thanks a Bunch

As you see, the bunchberries have been collecting at a rate that soon will make them into “multitudeberries.” The plant’s scientific name reflects its abundance north of us, Cornus canadensus, but it’s also commonly called dwarf dogwood, rabbit berry, and pudding berry. It’s early summer flowers boost the species chances of survival by spraying pollen out when insects land on them.

The plant, itself, is a unique organism, not a shrub or tree. The pectin-rich red berries that will replace the flowers later in summer can be eaten by humans raw or cooked and are often made into puddings, jellies and sauces. Birds, bears, deer, hares and rabbits are known to snack on the berries when they come. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on June 4 and 6, 2025.)

In the Right Place: Distinctive

Here you see the windjammer “Angelique” tucked into Great Cove as her passengers were awakening to a hazy day yesterday. Her passengers visited the renowned WoodenBoat School there. She’s still on a six-night cruise that includes exploration of nearby Acadia National Park. Here she is a bit later when her passengers were returning from WBS and helping to raise the longboats and sails:

“Angelique” is a 130-footer out of Camden, Maine, that was launched in 1980. Although all the coastal cruisers have their distinct characteristics, she is perhaps the most distinctive. She’s the only gaff-rigged ketch (primarily meaning, mainmast forward) in the Maine fleet, which is mostly schooner-rigged (primarily, mainmast aft).

She also is the only one with “tanbark”-colored sails. In days of yore when sails were cotton, they were dipped in vats of tannic acid, tallow, and red ocher, which turned them reddish and protected against mildew. (In yesterday’s haze, sun, and shade, they sometimes appeared brick- red, then burgundy-purple, and even black.)

Her original owner and designer revealed two secrets about “Angelique” in an interview: First, although it is true that the vessel was named after a long-limbed beauty, those limbs weren’t female legs. She was named after one of the purple/brown hardwoods imported from French Guiana and Suriname that are used in boat and ship construction: “Angelique wood” (Dicornya quianensis). There is some in “Angelique’s” cabin. A significant irony here is that the vessel has a steel compartmentalized hull.

Second, although she resembles a 19th Century North Atlantic fishing trawler, her design was inspired by early pilot sailboats and early large sailing yachts. She was designed specifically for passenger traffic, not for fishing or commercial hauling along the coast.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on June 5, 2025.)

In the Right Place: Coughing It Up

Horse chestnut tree candles are now blooming and attracting many pollinators. The trees are not true chestnut trees and they’re not native. They originally came to North America from Greece and Albania. But they are attractive and their compound leaves are unique palmate formations:

These trees reportedly live up to 300 years, but their “buckeye” nuts are inedible to humans. In days of yore, however, those nuts were fed to horses to treat coughs and congestion, which is why many researchers think that the tree is called a horse chestnut tree. Or, is that horsechest nut tree? (Images taken in Brookin, Maine on June 3, 2025.)

In the Right Place: Good Vibrations

It seems appropriate for American bumblebees to play their kind of music on this bugleweed (ajuga). Unlike other insects, bumblebees perform “buzz pollinations” – they grab the flower anther with their jaws (mandibles) and buzz by vibrating at the right frequency until the pollen floats free.

They probably play mostly “Taps” on these bugles because the typical pollinating bumble bee reportedly lives only about a month, while their queens live much longer to start next year’s colony, usually underground. They’re good pollinators, but (unlike honeybees) they don’t produce and store honey.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on June 3, 2025.) Apologies to the Beach Boys, creators of the hit ‘60’s song “Good Vibrations,” which had nothing to do with insects.

In the Right Place: Idle (But Colorful) Thoughts

It’s hard to tell whether the purple lilacs or orange azaleas are more outrageous this year. These are complementary colors on the color wheel, meaning that they’re opposites that can create interesting vibrance or jarring contrast together, depending on the beholder.

Case in point: the Clemson Tigers’ purple and orange uniforms; some say they’re awesomely impressive, others say they’re intended to make opponents throw up. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine on June 2, 2025.)

In the Right Place: The Honor of Being First

Here you see the schooner “Mary Day” in Great Cove very early yesterday before her passengers awakened and before it rained. The chilling rains came, the winds didn’t, and “Mary” departed the Cove with only her two mainsails up and a push from her yawl boat. She has no internal engine.

The “Mary Day” is 125 feet overall and hails from Camden, Maine. She was built in 1962 and is a regular visitor to the renowned WoodenBoat School in Great Cove. She may have been on a private charter yesterday; her official schedule shows her beginning trips on June 8. She has the honor of being the first windjammer to visit the Cove this summer.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on June 1, 2025.)

May Postcards From Down East Maine

May, true summer’s appetizer, was a little wetter and foggier than usual here on the coast this year. But she still managed to be her usual gorgeous and generous self: bringing us lush green grasses and leaves, coaxing out colorful buds and petals, and soothing us with warm days.

As usual, we begin our “wishing you were here” Postcards with the four iconic scenes that we monitor to record seasonal changes — the mountains breaching from Mount Desert Island; the island house peering down at Brooklin’s Naskeag Harbor; the “Blues” of the near-mountain called Blue Hill above the Town of Blue Hill, as seen across Blue Hill Bay, and the old red boathouse in Blue Hill’s Conary Cove:

Our woods and waters appeared to rejoice in their spring-to-summer passage through sun, rain, and fog:

As usual, May was a very active time for our fauna. Our fur-wearers of most interest included a young white-tailed deer buck who seemed sad for recently losing his first set of antlers, a cottontail rabbit that tried to burgle our house, a North American river otter who was tuckered out from impregnating as many females of his kind that he could find, and a pregnant doe sleeping late as the early morning sun rose:

As for feather bearers, the big drama in May was the repeated attacks by a young rogue male osprey on the nesting pair of ospreys that we monitor every year, a mature couple whom we’ve named Ozzie and Harriet. The jealous youngster who invaded the nest (and tried to do so to Harriet) was nearly killed by Ozzie, who repeatedly chased the invader off, after ripping out most of the youngster’s tail feathers and gashing him in the chest. Afterward, Ozzie and Harriet sat together in silent vigilance.

More patient males visiting the neighborhood included red-winged blackbirds who staked out territories and magnolia and other warblers who were deciding whether to stay or continue north. A great blue heron established a home base near one of our ponds; mallard drakes tried to attract mates by showing off their iridescence, and some bufflehead ducks that overwintered here decided to stay awhile.

Tri-colored bumblebees and other pollinators were very busy tending to all the new blossoms and black-capped chickadees — Maine’s state birds — complained about all newcomers:

As for our most ardent sun worshippers, painted turtles and bull frogs emerged from their murky winter quarters to enjoy the beginnings of the year’s warming radiance:

Of course, May is perhaps best known for its spectacular flora. In terms of trees and large bushes., the earliest bloomers were the subtly-hued shadblow trees with their burnished copper leaves and delicate white flowers:

Next on the color spectrum might be the gnarly old apple trees with their articulated branches and pink-cheeked buds and blossoms:

The color intensified in the plum trees, with their pink blossoms and reddish leaves, as well as in the crabapple trees with their thickly-studded branches of reds, pinks, and purples:

More subtle, yet still striking, were the less common yellow magnolia and white star magnolia flowers:

Of course, trees can be startling for reasons other than their colorful blossoms. Speciman trees such as the Camperdown elm in the Brooklin Cemetery and the weeping beech at Amen Farm leafed out fully in May:

While the yellows of forsythia flowers dropped to the ground before the end of May, the purples and whites of lilacs were emerging:

Similarly, the yellows of daffodils withered away, while the yellows of dandelions swept in:

In the sunny fields and dark woods, the bold, radiant leaves of lupine plants spread, while the delicate petals of the little star flowers searched for light:

In the bogs, the shy wild azalea known as rhodora made a modest appearance in purple while ferns and skunk cabbage boldly emerged:

In the gardens, begonias blossomed and allium buds were about to burst into flower:

The waterfront is an important area recreationally and commercially here, and much of it needs to be prepared in May for true summer’s activities. Docking floats need to be reinstalled at the ends of piers, mooring gear needs to be cleaned and returned to the depths, and boats need to be prepared and returned to where they belong.

On the commercial waterfront, May is a hiatus between scallop fishing and lobster fishing in coastal waters. Some vessels won’t take down their scallop-dredging masts and booms until June, when lobstering starts in earnest.

Finally, we consider the May full moon, traditionally named the Flower Moon for obvious reasons. This year, it was a “micromoon” — it’s orbit took it very far from us. But she still drew our tides to her and shone on trees that flowered in the darkness:

(All images in this post were taken in Down East Maine during May of 2025.)

In the Right Place: It Isn’t Easy ID-ing Greens

This seemingly happy little guy is my first frog of the year. Initially, I thought he was a green frog. But then I noticed that he had no ridges (no “dorso-lateral folds”) running all the way down his back from directly behind his eyes, the way green frogs do. His folds just curved behind his eyes and down around his big ear (around his “tympanum”).

I now think that he may be a young American bullfrog. The ears of male bullfrogs are larger than their eyes, while those of females are equal to their eye sizes.

If and when he becomes a full-sized bullfrog, he’ll have no problem identifying green frogs – as meals. (Images taken in Blue Hill, Maine, on May 28, 2025.) Apologies to Kermit.

In the Right Place: Slightly Wild

The lilac blossoms are starting to reach their prime here, both in pebbly beauty and intense fragrance. They’re an old-fashioned and long-lived plant, especially loved by those who like their beauty erupting in slightly wild crowds.

George Washington and Thomas Jefferson reportedly were lilac fans. (Images taken in Brooklin. Maine, on May 28, 2025.)

In the Right Place: Hometown Girl

Summer sailing in Great Cove officially may begin.

Legendary “Martha” returned to her mooring there on Tuesday. She was the first sailboat to return to her summer home in the Cove, which soon will be colonized by many vessels. But none with her fascinating history.

Martha was built here in 1967 by the famed Brooklin naval architect and founder of the renowned Brooklin Boat Yard, Joel White. Joel built it for his even more famous father, the New York- and Brooklin-based author E.B. White (“Charlotte’s Web,” etc.). The vessel was named after Martha White, Joel’s daughter, the granddaughter of E.B. (“call me Andy”).

There’s more for those of you who are fascinated by man-made things that wander over water by wind. “Martha” is almost 20 feet long overall (19’ 9”) and has been designated as a sloop-rigged Crocker-inspired pocket cruiser. A “cruiser” is built to sail on multi-day trips; that is, it’s not just a “daysailer.” Among other things, cruisers usually have at least one berth to sleep on, a stove to cook on, and a head (toilet) to sit on. 

But, being a “pocket cruiser,” “Martha” has all of the above amenities in miniaturized form, which requires exquisitely well-designed and finely built accommodations. The “pocket” designation derives from the practice of applying that term to objects that are smaller versions of usually larger things (e.g., pocketknives, pocket watches, pocket battleships, etc.).  

Martha is Crocker-inspired because, when he designed it, Joel admittedly was influenced by the designs of naval architect Samuel Sturgis Crocker. S.S. Crocker, another highly-regarded naval architect, created many small and stout cutters with sharply sweeping bows. (Take another look at Martha’s magnificent bow.)

After E.B.’s death, Martha was sold by the White family to Rich Hilsinger, the long-time former Director of the WoodenBoat School here. He promised to keep her in Brooklin where she belongs and where he still lives. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on May 28, 2025.) See also the image in the first Comment space.

In the Right Place: Hope Department

Clusters of exquisite, fragrant wild apple blossoms such as these are starting to appear in the gnarly, abandoned fruit trees that grow among weeds and shrubs along old roads and fields here. They seem to be reminders of the persistence of hope, like a pink-cheeked children’s choir in a decaying cathedral.  

Most of the apples from these trees were used to make cider, according to local histories. Today, they primarily feed wildlife.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on May 27, 2025.)

In the Right Place: Summer’s In

Fittingly, our long spate of gray/foggy/rainy weather broke Sunday evening, the eve of Memorial day’s opening of unofficial summer. As you see here, the sun was sinking in the northwest, burnishing the spruce tops on Babson Island in Great Cove and creating a spruce shadow dusk in the greening north field:

Early the next morning – Memorial Day’s awakening – the rising sun reached the field from the east and revealed one of our neighbors who had spent the night there in the newly-lush wild grasses:

She decided to be lazy on the first day of summer and basked there for more than an hour before ambling away into a beautiful summer’s day. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on May 25 and 26, 2025.)