In the Right Place: A Traditional Good Time

Independence Day yesterday was beautiful weather-wise and the annual Brooklin celebration was – as usual – a traditional good time full of flags and fun. There was rousing music by the amazingly good Brooklin Band, which played for viewers young and old as the parade was forming. .Morning refreshments were available from local entrepreneurs.

The parade not only had the obligatory Fire Department vehicles. It also contained an eclectic assortment of expressions and many antique or classic cars and trucks, which we have come to expect.

After the parade, the crowd assembled on the Town Green where there were young peoples’ games and contests, gossiping with neighbors, old vehicle exhibitions, and plenty to eat. Among the games and contests were the popular annual Dead Chicken Toss and Wet Sponge Toss, croquet and golf contests, and the very hard slippery pole climb for our well-conditioned youngsters.

Delicious food options included pulled chicken, pulled pork, hot dogs, corn on the cob, potato salad, Coleslaw, watermelon, and ice cream.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on July 4, 2025.)

In the Right Place: Meanwhile

Here’s one of Barbara’s patriotic peonies to start off what we hope will be a happy and meaningful Independence Day for you:

I hope to show you later that Brooklin’s renowned July 4 parade and celebration also was happy and meaningful.

In the Right Place: Osprey Nest Report

Bad news: This is Harriet on June 27. Alone. No Ozzy. No nestlings. She comes to the nest every now and then, “begs” for attention awhile, and then departs when she attracts none. Ever since the raids by a rogue male osprey that I reported on last month, the occupancy of the nest has been sporadic and only by Harriet.

Harriet should be tending one to three well-developed nestlings by now, as she has had for many years. Here she is (or at least the female we called Harriet) and one of her three nestlings last year:

As reported last month, Ozzie nearly killed the invading male, but Ozzie may have been seriously wounded, himself, without me seeing it. We can hope that Ozzie returns and I’ll keep an eye on the nest, but the Ozzie and Harriet sitcom this year may turn out to be a dark tragedy. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on June 27, 2025, and July 1, 2024.)

In the Right Place: Windjammer Watch VII

Yesterday’s dense fog prevented us from seeing Great Cove until about 4 p.m., when the lowering sun started extending exploratory rays here and there into those waters. It was then that I saw the top of a mast. Just the top. By the time that I got down to the shore for a look, the sun had become bolder and I discovered the schooner “Mary Day” lying there under the protection of Babson Island.

Not only that, but I could see through Mary’s rigging that another schooner was coming into the Cove out of densely-fogged Eggemoggin Reach. She was taking down her sails as she came in. It was the “J&E Riggin,” and she soon anchored safely, creating a contrast with Mary.

Mary is a high-riding, light-hulled schooner that runs 125 feet in overall length. She was launched in 1962 for tourist cruising and now hails from Camden, Maine. The Riggin is a low-slung, dark-hulled schooner that runs 120 feet overall. She was launched in 1927 for oyster dredging and now hails from Rockport, Maine. Neither Mary nor the Riggin has an inboard motor, which can make sailing in the fog on them even more of an adventure.

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

June Postcards From Down East Maine

June is the long-awaited warm beginning of summer, when sweatshirts and sweaters are traded for short-sleeved shirts and shorts, when the fields turn green and flowers bloom everywhere, when the waters are alive with lobster boats full of traps, windjammers full of tourists, and recreational boats that range from the strange to the sublime. To be sure, June has her wet and foggy days — and this year also a few days that were too hot — but those times only make us appreciate more the arrival of summer in Vacationland.

As usual. we Wish You Were Here with four Postcards of the iconic Down East scenes that we monitor during all seasons: the old red boat house in Conary Cove; the near-mountain called Blue Hill overlooking the Bay of the same name; the Harbor Island House that seems to guard Naskeag Harbor, and the view of Mount Desert Island’s mountains from Brooklin’s Amen Ridge:

June wildlife featured our athletic white-tailed deer in their new sleek summer coats; ever-hungry snowshoe hares; ospreys in their seaside penthouses; wild turkeys that got caught in the rain; our ubiquitous herring gulls enjoying warmish sea waters, painted turtles and green frogs enjoying warmer pond waters, and pollinators enjoying the nectar of the emerging summer flora:

Among June’s large floral displays this year were the last of the apple blossoms; horse chestnut tree candles; red maple winged seeds; mountain maple tented flower heads, and crab apple trees in full bloom:

Notable shrub-sized floral displays in June included the last of the lilacs; extraordinary rhododendrons; orange azaleas; beach roses, and viburnum:

The grasses and sedges in the fallow fields were lush and the wild flowers there included lupines; blue and yellow flag wild irises; cow parsley; daisies, and yellow and orange hawkweed:

There was plenty of water in the streams, ponds and bogs, and the flora in the wetlands of course included fragrant water lilies, as well as arrow arum, Jack-in-the-pulpit, and skunk cabbage:

The rain in June also kept the woods from drying out and allowed ferns and bunchberry to flourish:

In the gardens, the floral standouts included bearded iris; poppies; peonies, and allium:

On the working waterfront, June is when the coastal water fishermen get their boats in shape and begin loading and setting out lobster traps:

Fathers’ Day coincides with the opening of the lobster season. It was celebrated at our house by local lobsters, which were bought by our son. Then, they were prepared by our daughter into an insanely delicious meal that shouldn’t be eaten more than once a year. Here’s a look at long-gone Lobster Fettucine Beurre Blanc with pre-cracked shells:

Lobster boats aren’t the only fascinating vessels that cruise the coast. Maine’s fleet of windjammers sail the summer here, often serving their lucky passengers gourmet cuisine and wines, including lobster bakes at beach parties. But, of course, there is no escaping the Down East weather.

Recreational boating and educational boating at the renowned WoodenBoat School come in many forms:

June also contains Flag Day, which is no problem in Maine. The population of U.S. Flags here is not endangered.

Finally, there is the June full moon, which is traditionally called the Strawberry Moon because of that fruit’s appearance during the month. This year, due to its close orbital position, the Strawberry Moon was viewed through our gritty atmosphere, which sometimes gave it a reddish cast:

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

In the Right Place: Encounters of the Canine Type

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

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

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

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

In the Right Place: Summertime

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

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

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

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

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

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

In the Right Place: Mast, Motor or Muscle

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

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

In the Right Place: Peeking at Peonies Peaking

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

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

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

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

In the Right Place: It’s Not Just You

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

In the Right Place: Windjammer Watch VI

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In the Right Place: All in the Family

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

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

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

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

In the Right Place: Classics Department

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

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

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

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

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

In the Right Place: Major Contributors

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

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

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

In the Right Place: Thrilling

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

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

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

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

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

In the Right Place: For Summer-Lovers

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

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

In the Right Place: Amazing Grace

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

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

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

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

In the Right Place: Maine Lullaby

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

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

In the Right Place: Name Game Department

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

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

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

In the Right Place: A Hare-Raising Tale

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

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

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

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

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

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