In the Right Place: Comparing Apples to Apples

The 2026 apple season for both “wild”-cider and orchard-edible fruit looks like it might be even better than expected.  One reason is that apple trees usually alternate annually between light crops and bumper crops, and 2025 apparently was a light year.

A more evident reason for optimism is what we’re seeing with our own eyes. The “wild” apple trees, such as this one, are flush with blooms. Yet, they were planted for cider over 100 years ago and their fruit hasn’t been harvested for human use within memory. In addition, the individual blossoms on those trees are plush and heavy:

When the delicate white and pink petals on the blooms drop, the base of the flowers will slowly enlarge into the apples that will fall in autumn and become wildlife food and fertilizer.

I tried an apple from this tree once; it tasted like turpentine smells. Although beauty might be in the eye of the beholder, it’s not always in his mouth. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on May 26 and 29, 2026.)

In the Right Place: At BBY, XI

Here’s the Muscongus Bay 18 (-foot) runabout that we’ve been following at the Brooklin Boat Yard. She’s back in the auxiliary shop after being primed.

She soon will have some more woods applied and all of her special woods brightened. The Honduran mahogany on the boat’s transom (back/stern panel) and elsewhere will gleam like the finest furniture. The boat’s sole (finished inside floor) and other areas will be hard and handsome teak.

Here’s another copy of designer Mark Fitzgerald’s plans for the runabout i for reference:

It’s reassuring to be reminded that some extraordinarily good things still are being done by Americans who know what they’re doing. We are not all corrupt bunglers and craven holders-on who are trying to parasitically consume America from within.

(Photographs taken in Brooklin, Maine, on May 28, 2026.) 

In the Right Place: Is Beauty in the Eye of the Beholder?

Elusive rhodora flowers are quietly brightening up the wetlands in out-of-the way places where butterflies and bees will find them, but where few humans trod. In his poem “The Rhodora” (1847), Ralph Waldo Emerson uses a poet’s sudden discovery of wild rhodora flowers to conclude that beauty doesn’t need a viewer: “beauty is its own excuse for Being.”

Botanically, rhodora (Rhododendron canadense) is native to the bogs of northeastern United States and Canada. It’s a slight, deciduous shrub that bursts into unusual, stunning purple flowers in the spring before its leaves emerge. The flowers don’t last long, but they do provide life-giving nectar to several rare pollinators. Once its beautiful flowers fade and its skimpy grayish-green leaves appear, rhodora becomes mostly unnoticeable floral background.

See also the image in the Comment space. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on May 26, 2026.)

In the Right Place: Ozzie & Harriet, IV

Look closely and you’ll see Harriet yesterday, laying and incubating eggs (I hope). She keeps her fierce head up to look around constantly for danger; her big wings are spread as cover from the elements; her soft underbelly is gently lowered over the eggs, keeping them at the right temperature; and, her tail is pitched up, seemingly just because she wants to look perky in her pregnancy.

Soon (I hope), Harriet’s sharp beak, which was designed to kill and rip fish, will be picking flecks of fish off a still-wriggling body and delicately placing them in the wide-open mouths of her insatiable, fuzzy, prehistoric-looking offspring.

Below, you’ll see Ozzie returning to the nest yesterday, as he usually does several times a day. On at least one of those visits, he’ll bring a good-sized, but headless, fish for Harriet – they’re usually pogies (Atlantic menhaden) from which Ozzie has ripped out and eaten the nutritious brains for his own meals.

Sometimes, Ozzie brings a branch or moss to fix up the nest. Sometimes, he takes over the egg-sitting while Harriet takes a breather or drops down to a nearby pond for a drink or bath. At other times, Ozzie just stops by momentarily and exchanges chirps with Harriet, then flies off. There also are times when he’ll swoop in at great speed as Harriet shrieks an alarm about an intruder.

The literature indicates that ospreys usually lay 2 to 4 eggs about 3 days apart. They hatch in about 4 to 5 weeks in the same order that they were laid. In this nest, we usually see the youngsters in early June. They grow extraordinarily fast.  Within a month of hatching, they’re often 75 percent grown. (As you know, they have to be strong enough to migrate thousands of miles by fall.)

In this nest, we usually have three fledglings, but sometimes raptor life can be wrenching. Last year, the nest was attacked several times by rogue bachelor ospreys. Ozzie drove them off, but not before the last one of them gave him a significant chest wound. Harriet flew off then before finishing incubation, and the nest failed to produce fledglings.

As the numbers of Ospreys and bald eagles increase, the fights over large, established nests in prime fishing locations increase. But it’s not only intruders. Predator problem-solving can be chilling. One year when the fish were running low, Ozzie and Harriet had four hatchlings. During feeding one day, the oldest and largest hatchling attacked the youngest and smallest, grabbed it by the back and threw it out of the nest. Brotherly love is not big with birds of prey.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on May 26, 2026.)

In the Right Place: At BBY, X

Here we’re watching SYNTAX being returned to the water at the Brooklin Boat Yard last week. Seeing her while US-Cuba relations had returned to front pages conjured up memories of prize-winning author Ernest Hemingway and his 1934, 38-foot Wheeler sportfishing boat, PILAR.

SYNTAX, a 55-foot Wheeler, reportedly was designed to capture the adventuresome look, luxury and performance of PILAR, as enhanced by today’s materials and mechanics. She was built by BBY in 2024 with the latest refinements.

Some research on Hemingway’s jaunty boat reveals that PILAR had immense fuel tanks and two gasoline-powered motors. She had a 75-horsepower engine for cruising and a 40-hp one for casting and trolling for the massive, big-game fish that Hemmingway loved to stalk and fight – especially swordfish, bluefin tuna, and blue and black marlin.

“Pilar” apparently was Hemingway’s pet name for journalist Pauline Pfieffer, his second wife. It’s also the name of the brave female guerilla leader in his heralded 1940 book “For Whom the Bell Tolls.” PILAR, the boat, was last homeported in Cojimar, Cuba, a fishing village east of Havana.

SYNTAX reportedly is named as a tribute to Hemmingway’s distinctive and clear writing voice. It also seemingly reflects the boat’s natural blend of 1930’s brawny flair with modern technology. Among other updates, SYNTAX reportedly has twin 1000-hp V-8 diesel engines (2000-hp output), a 960-gallon fuel tank and a Starlink communications system. Her indicated home port is Oak Island, a small island in Boothbay Harbor, Maine.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on May 20, 2026.)

In the Right Place: Lest We Forget

Lord of our fathers, known of old

--God of our fathers, known of old --
Lord of our far-flung battle line --
Beneath whose awful hand we hold
Dominion over palm and pine --
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget -- lest we forget!

That’s the first stanza of Rudyard Kipling’s famous “Recessional” (1897), which was published at the height of England’s colonizing military might. It should be read in full for full effect. Although Kipling frequently references a watchful and wrathful Christian God, the poem is respected by those of many religious faiths and of no religious faith.

It’s a reflection on the need for a “humble and contrite heart” instead of pride in military might. It warns of the dire consequences of forgetting the costs of military success and (in his view) the divine help that was needed  to achieve such success in the first place. 

Some people, including non-religious ones, take it as a call to avoid the hubris of military might and the need to always remember the enhanced value of lives lost while in the service of protecting other lives and ways of life.

(Leighton Archive image taken at Arlington National Cemetery.)

n the Right Place: Love’s Scent and Taste

Fragrant quince flowers, such as these, are beautifying the neighborhood now. These ancient blooms and their cousins, the gold, apple-like quince fruits, are part of the rose family and have an ancient and noble heritage.

In Greek and Roman times, quince flowers and fruit reportedly were the love goddess Aphroditte’s sacred symbols of love, passion and fertility. They were used to decorate weddings, and the bride often was expected to taste of the fruit to sweeten her breath and bless the marriage before she entered the bridal bed with the groom, according to the literature.

I love the flowers. As for the raw fruit, I pity those brides if that’s the way they sweetened their breath. A raw quince “golden apple” is so tart that some garden enthusiasts recommend that it not be tasted by humans.

But I hear that there are ways of cooking the fruit to make it a delicious topping for breakfast cereals and pancakes or waffles, a tangy-sweet relish for meats and fowl, and a dessert enhancer, especially with cream, ice cream and pastry.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on May 21, 2026.)

In the Right Place: Mind If I Join You?

Here you see three members of the Brooklin Sunbathing Club spending yesterday morning together at their favorite meeting spot in our big pond. These eastern painted turtles and their spot are warmed by direct sunlight from early morning to mid-afternoon – when the sun is shining.

I’ve seen that rock (which we call Turtle Rock) totally covered by six PT members of the Club, large and small, sometimes stacked atop each other. Such turtle gatherings often are called “bales,” because they look like cargo, especially when the reptiles are stacking. 

Why do freshwater turtles bask  in the sun? Well, of course, they’re cold-blooded animals whose bodies can’t regulate heat. They need to get to a certain temperature before they can feel good, metabolize well and synthesize needed vitamin D from sunlight.

But why the bale bit? After all, they’re not affectionate, social animals. The literature contains multiple reasons, but the one that rings most true is that they all want the best basking spot and there often aren’t many real good spots that will allow them to literally chill-out a little in relative safety. Being non-aggressive, they don’t object when another of their kind joins them or even clambers over them, so long as they have a warm spot.

There also is the evolved animal-gathering defense that probably comes into play in turtle baling: The more eyes, ears and noses, the better the early-warning system is for many animals; the more numbers, the greater the odds of not being the one the predator catches.

You may have noticed that there are many ripped out cattail leaves in this pond. We can thank Bernie and Bernice Beaver and their successors for that. Beavers are messy creatures that cut down much more than they need and leave it lying around. Nonetheless, I haven’t seen any sign of beaver activity in 12 days. I suspect that the beavers have left us, but you never can be sure.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on May 22, 2026)

In the Right Place: At the BBY, IX

Here’s a visual update of DYLAN being expertly crafted as of Wednesday. She’s still in the Brooklin Boat Yard paint shop, where work continues throughout her. As you may know from reading these or BBY’s posts, DYLAN is to be part of a matched pair of exquisite BBY-designed-and-built Eggemoggin 47+s (which have a 47’ 6” overall length). These are among the most stylish of high performance racing sailboats.

DYLAN’s sistership, HARPER, was launched by BBY in 2023 and was returned this year to get updates that would match the emerging DYLAN’s state-of-the-art equipment. That may have been accomplished already; HARPER was back in the water on Tuesday:

Both E-47+s are what have become known as “spirit-of-tradition” sailboats that maintain the classic grace of traditional sailboats while embodying the latest technology that takes sailing to new levels of speed, maneuverability and pleasure.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on May 20, 2026.)

In the Right Place: Pending Investigation

There are rumors that we’ve been visited by a huge, alien parasites that eat everything before them – from dandelions to propane tanks. When Washington was called, no one could agree on what these creatures might be or what to do about them. We were told that it might be Democratic fake news, Republican looters or the ever-vengeful Iranians.

On the other hand, based on what I’ve seen (shown here), perhaps the rumors are only about WoodenBoat School Alumni campers and their good equipment. The investigation still is pending. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on May 20, 2026.)

In the Right Place: She’s Back!

Here’s SUN’S UP brightening Conary Cove during yesterday’s cloudy afternoon – much to the relief of her many fans. There were rumors that this cheery little yellow lobster boat had been sold and shipped away or was going to be scrapped.

Well, whatever the story, the important thing is that she’s back as a seamark in the picturesque Cove that many of us scan as we pass by. Seeing her in the summer has become one of life’s small, reliable pleasures around here. (Image taken in Blue Hill, Maine, on May 19, 2026.) Click on the image to enlarge it.

In the Right Place: Slouching Toward Euphoria

Asiatic plum trees can be spiritual, especially when their exquisitely delicate flowers are blossoming. Which is now. Despite their English name, they’re apparently a special part of the apricot family. In Japan, they’re known as ume and public viewing of them there was popular long before viewing cherry blossoms, according to the literature.

To be sure, cherry blossoms are beautiful. But Asiatic plum blossoms are not only beautiful, they greet you eagerly with a mixed scent that can induce near-euphoria to people who have good-working noses connected to their minds. It’s a subtle and indescribable greeting, something like a mixture of undulating fragrances of peppered-sweetness, tangy-fruitiness and sexual scents.

Moreover, these trees are guardians, if you believe in feng shui. For centuries in China, Asiatic plum trees have been planted in the northeast corners of properties to defend against the misfortune and evil that tries to sneak in with the northeast winds.  That might be something to think about here on the Maine coast. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on May 17, 2026.)

In the Right Place: Another Rosie?

I almost didn’t see this little froglet, who appeared to be less than two inches long. Judging from the stocky shape, color and absence of back ridges (“dorsolateral folds”), my guess is that this is a baby American bullfrog, a little female. (The eardrums on female bull frogs are about the size of their eyes; on males, they’re much larger.)

She’s in a typical bullfrog ambush position, waiting to catch passing prey with her sticky tongue. Assuming that she’s a bullfrog, she’ll gobble up any passing creature that will fit in her very big mouth, even if the prey is bigger than her head, which is stretchable. She’ll soon become 6 to 8 inches long and be able to jump at least 6 or 7 feet in one amazing bound.

The jumping record at the annual Calaveras County Fair & Jumping Frog Jubilee (named after Mark Twain’s amusing jumping frog story) reportedly is held by “Rosie the Ribeter.” And it’s legendary. Rosie launched herself from a sitting position and landed an incredible 21 feet and 5.75 inches away in 1986. (Images taken in Blue Hill, Maine, on May 16, 2926.)

In the Right Place: The View, Without Politics

Here you see the view of the western mountains of Mount Desert Island, Maine’s largest island, as seen from the edge of a greening field on Amen Ridge in Brooklin. Daffodils are all the flowers that the field offers now, but it will be full of blooming lupines next month. Blue Hill and Jericho Bays appear gray because the day was “Mostly Cloudy,” according to the weather tellers.

I’ve always wondered whether such weather descriptions had some uniform science behind them. Well, it turns out that they do: accepted definitions for these terms have been  issued by the National Weather Service, which divides the sky in eighths (“oktas”) for world-wide standardization:

 “Overcast” or “Cloudy” means 7/8 to 8/8 cloud cover;

“Mostly Cloudy,” as you see here, is when there is 5/8 to 7/8 cloud cover;

“Partly Cloudy” or “Partly Sunny” means 3/8 to 5/8 cloud cover;

“Mostly Sunny” or “Mostly Clear” mean 1/8 to 3/8 cloud cover, and

“Sunny” or “Clear” mean 1/8 or less cloud cover.

(Image taken in Brooklin, Maine, on May 12, 2026.) Click on the image to enlarge it.

In the Right Place: Seeing Stars

Star magnolia blossoms have been peaking here for about a week. One of the smallest of the magnolia trees and shrubs, the stars seem to like a wet, chilly (but not freezing) spring. Perhaps this is because they originated in the high areas of Japan’s Honshu Island.

When there’s a good breeze and the star magnolia branches are swaying, the blossoms’ many white tepals make the plant look like a swarm of ancient deep-sea life caught in a light. In fact, magnolias are very old plants. They’re so old, they originated before bees evolved, according to the literature. But, of course, there were plenty of early flies and beetles to do the magnolia  pollen-carrying in the Early Cretaceous period. And, flies and beetles pollinate the shrubs to this day.

(Image taken in Brooklin, Maine, on May 9, 2026.)

In the Right Place: Canaries of the Clawed Kind

This image of a fledgling Osprey learning to fly appears with my monthly column in the current Ellsworth American. Click on the image to enlarge it. To read the column about the problems ospreys are facing along the east coast, use this link: https://www.5backroad.com/montly-column

In the Right Place: In the Shops, VIII

Here’s a quick update on two of the boats-in-progress that we’ve been monitoring at the renowned Brooklin Boat Yard. It’s a pleasure to see expert craftsmanship making something elegant and grand out of so many rough and functional parts.

DYLAN, shown above, has been moved from the main shop to the paint shop, where she can be sanded and have details worked on simultaneously. As you know, she’ll be an Eggemoggin  47+ (47’6” overall) type racing sailboat.

The powerful, unnamed 47’ (overall) Express Cruiser, shown below, remains in the main shop, where she’s looking more like her drawings every day. I bet there’ll be many a wonderful cruise in her.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on May 11, 2026.)

In the Right Plce: The Coverup

Here, you the viewer are on the campus of renowned Wooden Boat Publications and School. That’s Great Cove Drive coming down the hill right at you. It ends immediately behind you with a ramp into the waters of Great Cove.

The building in front of you probably is not the most beautiful you have seen; perhaps it’s even boring for you to look at, certainly (and thankfully) it’s not Trumpian. Yet, as they say in architecture school, form follows function. And, this building is beautifully functional.

In a way, this building is a jewel box in the late fall and winter and a place to feel good during the late spring through early fall. The jewels that it protects are finely-crafted WBS boats that sometimes even are gilded in gold by sunlight dollops dripping through the skylights:

It’s a post-and-panel structure and soon all of those green panels on this side and the opposite side of the building will be taken away. The boats will be led eagerly into Great Cove and the plain building will become a lovely pavilion between green woods and blue waters.

Sea airs will waft through the pavilion while classes are taught to students at tables there, or while food is being served there to visitors, or while theatrical performances are being given to local residents, or while people are hanging out, waiting for a spring shower to stop and hoping to see a rainbow over the Cove.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on May 11, 2026.)

In the Right Place: B&B, the Sequel

Many of you shared our ups and downs last year with Bernie and Bernice Beaver. They dammed our three ponds, took down at least 50 trees and large shrubs and generally were a pleasurable problem. Then they disappeared and peace returned.

Well, two beavers are now back in those ponds and, therefore, we’ll also be reporting on them as Bernie and Bernice – if they decide to stay and lay claim to our ponds. They seem to be mostly scouting out the area now::

However, being beavers, they can’t resist closing up the gurgling channels I dug to keep the pond waters from flooding due to the original B&B dams. And I, being human, can’t resist re-digging those channels almost daily. It’s like the war with Iran; neither side is winning; disparity in resources doesn’t matter, and we can’t figure out a suitable compromise. Here we go again; stay tuned.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on May 10, 2026.)

In the Right Place: Boggling

Most skunk cabbage plants in the bogs have shed their colorful, jester-hatted spathes and are sprouting what will become their glorious leaves. As you see here, some of these plants’ leaves are still twirled tightly like rockets on the launch pad:

Others are beginning to fling their leaves open, causing a series of green explosions in the wetlands:

Skunk Cabbage is  a paradoxical plant – gorgeously pleasing to the eye, not so much to the nose. (Imagine Grace Kelly or George Clooney with very bad breath.) Nonetheless, I’m a big fan of theirs. (Images taken May 9, 2026.)