Oak Leaves

This morning's image was taken this Friday, after the snowfall, at East End Community School. As you can see, the city and along the coast got just a dusting as opposed to inland where we received 8 inches. Never been to southern Maine? A mere 15 miles or so can really mean a lot when dealing with snowfall amounts, especially when you are near the water. Even summer temperatures can vary quite a bit. So sometimes it IS important to be a 'weatherman to know which way the wind blows'. These oak leaves wave resiliently against the early winter sky. They'll be around awhile too. They say "no" to bright, fall colors! They say "no" to politely falling to the ground in autumn! I admire the fight in them!

Hill

Here's a sunny shot of life on the Hill in the city. There are a few less leaves these days, and it'll be covered with whiteness come tomorrow morning. Back in my youth, first snow meant lots of excitement; these days not so much. Unlike the freak storm of October, tomorrow's 3-8 inches will be hanging around awhile. After work today, a few last minute jobs of tightening up around the homestead, and I'll be able to say, "Winter... bring it on!"

Roadside Stand

Here's a very weathered look to a local roadside stand. In the 34 years I've driven by it summers and falls, I have never seen it open for business. Slowly but surely, it's making its way to the ground. It's in the middle of nowhere. There isn't a farm in sight for miles. Kind of a mystery, if you ask me. Mom attempted quite a few gardens over the years, with not much success. However, she often stopped at roadside stands in the afternoon for tomatoes, string beans and corn. The job of snipping the string beans for dinner always seemed to fall to me. I kind of enjoyed the task, always knowing that her creamed beans would find their way to the table that night. I always made sure I saved room on my Thanksgiving plate for that cream-style staple. Beans!

Floating Gold

What goes around comes around, as they say. Life was always a struggle, it seems, for my high school football team. When I started following the 'purple and gold' in elementary school, it was always a losing proposition. Breaking even at 4-4 was considered a pretty good fall expedition. Heck, in high school the team was disbanded for lack of funds... and wins. If you were a follower of pigskin exploits during autumn, it was the height of discouragement. And we're are not even going to speak of the out and out embarrassment among my friends, who attended its arch rival down the road. I must say, it was a fine feeling, when off at college, I read that the gold helmets would again be venturing forth on the gridiron Saturdays in the fall. These days, things sure have changed. Two consecutive unblemished seasons, two consecutive Class A State Football Championships for the Stags. Livin' the highlife!... and waitin' for the floor to drop out!

Ferdinand

It's late fall, creeping up on Thanksgiving. It's a good day to take a stroll and hit some vintage clothing shops. If I didn't live in an old cape farmhouse and had plenty of closet space, I be in significant trouble. I like clothes; I like junk; I like vintage stuff. Perhaps I might even find a copy of "The Story of Ferdinand" by Munro Leaf and illustrated by Robert Lawson laying around. I wouldn't mind picking up a used copy for my library. Maybe Paul still has his copy. I think I first saw and read his copy one night in high school at his house. I had never seen it before. It never made an appearance in our house growing up. Sheesh! Now how did I ever get here today?

Abandon Line

Even when I was a kid, I was a morning person. I was always up and at it early. Many a morning I just took off into the woods on an adventure. Down back along side the lumber company, there were a couple of abandon railroad tracks that headed like this off into nowhere. A walk along tracks like these always offered a interesting morning undertaking. I always found stuff too. Some worth bringing back to the real world; some things not even worth my time. Cool shaped sticks, old bottles, discarded girlie magazines, a lean-to in disrepair. There was plenty to explore and IMAGINE for a young kid. And the beauty was? When my 'trip' was over, it was, usually, still before 9 AM. Most of my buddies hadn't even cracked an eyelid. The entire day lay ahead.

Frosty Haystack

Back in another life, I used to watch a lot of Saturday afternoon wrestling programing. As a 12 year old, I was excited when Haystack Calhoun was in the ring. He tipped the scales at 601 pounds and stood about 6' 5'' in his white t-shirt, blue overalls and horseshoe necklace. Everyone who watched him 'work' waited for his patterned "Big Splash" finish, where he would jump off the top rope of the ring and land on his helpless opponent. Yikes! I was always amazed that he could get up there to begin with. Legend had it that on his family farm, he actually worked cows by picking them up and moving them. One of the highlights of the Saturday shows was when he and some palooka took on the the feared duo of Mr. Fuji and Professor Toro Tanaka in tag team matches. Now that was ENTERTAINMENT!

Pond Skate

Growing up in the city, there were lots of places to skate. The most popular venue was at the Allen Avenue pond in the North Deering area. Ah... there were lots of girls there. It was the family skating spot too. I skated there many, many times. Now, venturing to the Oaks was a real treat. One of our parents would drop us off late morning and pick us up again mid-afternoon. The many Evergreen Cemetery ponds were close by and good places for hockey. Behind Deering High School and here at Capisic Pond were places I skated seldom, maybe twice each. However, I never remembered it having so dense a crop of cat tails, as seen in this picture taken on Sunday morning. As you can see, it's certainly encroaching on ice time.

West End Water

Up on the Western Prom these water fountains will have to wait til June. Water, water, everywhere. This time of year, in our backyard or at Gullivers, football was still the game. Even as temperatures tumbled, and it snowed or was pouring rain, those were the best days. It wasn't miserable at all. The fun was actually heightened, as we went slip sliding away in the snow or got covered with serious mud in pouring rain. Explanation? Hey, we were guys! We did that for FUN! The games weren't organized. They were just the run of the mill pick-up games, with usually 10-12 of the gang decked out in our rag tag 'uniforms'(jeans, sweatshirts and of course our helmets). Mine was orange with a blue stripe and 4 stars on either side. My brother had a blue one, as I remember, with a plastic facemask. Those afternoons were just loaded with happiness and enjoyment, regardless of the weather conditions. Now the water? We carried those glass gallon jugs, that vinegar came in with the glass finger holders, filled with refreshing, ice cold water for our breaks. As the football games ended and we moved towards home, spitting water through our front teeth became the game of choice. Covering your friends with sprayed cold water or seeing who could spit through their teeth the farthest, sometimes offered just as much enjoyment as the actual romps with the pigskin, that had covered the last few hours. I have enjoyable reminders of those days.

Scratching Sky

"I prefer winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure in the landscape - the loneliness of it - the dead feeling of winter. Something waits beneath it - the whole story doesn't show."
- Andrew Wyeth
The blue sky, with clouds moving fast, is usually a cue for me that changes are in the wind. However, even with the sun shinning yesterday, the icy patches across the yard gave no evidence of leaving soon. Off in the distance at sundown, the final barrage of rifle shots were heard as deer hunting season came to a close. Maine is ready for her winter. The more things change, the more things remain the same. Growing up in this state, oh, I use to love my long, snowy, cold winters. Now, not so much. The inevitable will arrive here soon; we push on.

The Pool

Before the snow hits, here's one more view of the Oaks. This one is of the area at one end of the wading pool, this time of year without water of course. Each summer, Shakespearean plays are performed here, with this area being center stage. The gentle sloping hills on each side provide seating, if you don't bring your chair. I enjoy strolling along the sculptured walkways around this running pool.

Fear the Turtle

Thought you'd like a quick look at my work this weekend. I hope to put a dent in two cords of wood and get it moved into the woodshed out back.The wedding last weekend put my wood haulin' schedule off a bit, but it'll get done, hopefully before the snow flies in these parts. Mom reminded me often of that old adage, 'slow and steady wins the race'. And the way I look at it, if the tortoise could do it, it's good enough for me. I try to use this as a guide in all I do these days. Take BIG jobs and break them into their simple parts. The work gets done, and I remain happier for it. Why run the risk of being overwhelmed and or intimidated by that nasty thing called WORK. That turtle had his act together. Serenity soon!

Leaf Entrance

Here's another West End image. As you can see, the doorway and many of the windows are still shrouded in reds, yellows, and tinted browns. Even after the strong winds of Monday, they're still hanging on. What's up this weekend? It's going to be a beauty, with lots of sun and temps, maybe, reaching the low 60s. But me? Basically two words: moving wood.

Orange on Peach

As my better half always says, "Jeese, take a step back and see what's in the picture... background, background, background. Do you see what you're doing?" Now, to be perfectly honest, she's mostly not talking to me, and for that I thank my lucky stars! To be perfectly honest on this one, I saw the background, but I never saw the tree... just the 'peachness' of the side wall of the house. As you can see, the black-lined branches are starting to show themselves here on the West End. The house is peach with the orange leaves holding on for dear life on a side street. Fall wanes.

Mr. Pumpkinhead

Look what I caught hanging around my garden Sunday just before sunset. With apologies to Jamie Wyeth and Shipyard Brewing Co. and of course Washington Irving... it's my Mr. Pumpkinhead, here among the dead sunflowers and corn stalks.

http://www.shipyard.com/taste/

Rendezvous

One of our favorite places to hang out through the seasons is here at the Portland Harbor Hotel. Summers sipping a martini in the garden courtyard, with the afternoon sun lighting the tables, is a mighty fine experience. Merry Madness, an evening of shopping and merriment in December, when it was held here was the best. February brings Ice Bar memories. My brother and I attended the very first one, when it was held here. As I recall, Elenka was visiting Florida( she wouldn't have ventured out with us anyway... had it been the Heat Bar, she certainly would have been up for a night), and the temperature that day had hovered at about zero. That night Mr. Mercury dropped to somewhere between 10 and 15 below, and Marchin and I were off to see what it was all about. The lobby, bar and restaurant areas were packed shoulder to shoulder. There was food all over, but the beverages were served outside in the courtyard. Now, they had the firepit blazing, with plenty of guests sitting and talking, and a few of those large propane patio heaters were scattered about providing some warmth. But it was still FREEZING! We finally got to the Ice Bar (a HUGE bar cut out of a block of ice), ordered a couple of brew and bro handed the poor, young lady bartender a hundred dollar bill. Oh my! Between the temps, her gloves, the change for the 100, (I think it took her about 5 minutes to make the change) it was like a cartoon frozen in time. I'm still smiling!

DownEast5

Our weekend trip ended in Lubec, Maine, the easternmost point in the US, with a brief sojourn to the red and white candy striped West Quoddy Head Light. There has been a light here guiding ships through the Narrows since 1808. This distinctive light was built on this spot in 1858. Did you know it's the closest point to Africa in the 50 states? That is a strange fact, if you ask me. Later in Lubec, we stopped for coffee and stared across the water at Canada. The town reminded me an of an old West ghost town, abandoned buildings and few inhabitants. Soon we headed off on our 5 hour trip back home, across the airline to Bangor, then south. There were lots of sights along the way, with the autumn colors taking their final curtain call.


http://www.lighthouse.cc/westquoddy/

DownEast4

We stayed at Elsa's Inn on the Harbor, a delightful B&B in Prospect Harbor. It was the perfect place for us! Outside our windows as we traveled, some delightful names whizzed by: south china, east palermo, the kingdom, searsport, stockton springs, verona island, bucksport, orland, sullivan, steuben, milbridge, columbia falls, hulls cove, otter creek, gouldsboro, prospect harbor, winter harbor, jonesboro, machais, whiting, lubec, northfield, the airline, beddington, the whaleback, aurora, amherst, clifton, eddington, newport, fairfield, sidney, litchfields corner, gray, standish and by then it was 'home again finnegan'! Quite a two day romp, if I do say so.

http://www.elsasinn.com/

DownEast3

One of my favorite hangouts in the Park is Schoodic Peninsula. It's bit of a longer drive but the 'pot of gold' at the end is well worth the extra miles. Once many years ago, I awoke at 4 AM one summer morning and set out to negotiate summer traffic on Route 1. Why? The allure of those rocks and the falling sun. I got back well after sundown, but with a camera full of dreams.

DownEast2

So many great images... so hard to choose. After lunch, our 'road trip' took us along the loop trail which circles Acadia National Park. It's cliched, but around every bend on the road there was an opportunity for different images. In this photograph, one of the many carriage paths travels overhead, but below was where beauty was hidden for me. Startling... the camera is humbled here.

Keep close to Nature's heart... and break clear away, once in awhile, and climb a mountain or spend a week in the woods. Wash your spirit clean. -John Muir