Monday, February 20, 2017

The Pumpkin House

The Pumpkin House sits at one end of Park Row, in Brunswick, Maine. Its occupants are a flower shop, and a group of  mental health professionals.

Sunday, November 6, 2016


Autumn Pool



What Webs They Weave


A Skim of Ice

At Bradbury State Park

Sunday, June 5, 2016


I visited on a grey morning when the hemlocks
were finally showing their new growth,
and the mosquitoes were hungry. 
The forest was quiet except for
the song of a wood thrush and
the whine of mosquitoes about my head.
Labyrinths are not mazes.
They are meant to clarify, not confuse.

Thursday, April 28, 2016


Although hummingbirds have been sighted as far away as Nova Scotia, our feeder hasn't had a visitor yet this year.  The photo was taken on Tuesday when the midcoast was surprised by a fast moving snow storm.

Monday, February 15, 2016


In the fading light of a winter's afternoon this little guy was feeding atop his midden, ignoring me as I snowshoed by.
John Muir understood the Eastern red squirrel to be closely allied with his beloved Douglas squirrel, who he said, "Nature has made a master forester...committing most of her conifer crops to his paws...probably over 50% of all the cones ripened on the Sierra are cut off and handled by the Douglas alone...he is the squirrel of squirrels...undiseased as a sunbeam...getting into the most impossible situations without a sense of danger...he is without exception the wildest animal I ever saw. "
"I cannot begin to tell how much he has cheered my lonely wanderings during all the years I have been pursuing my studies in these glorious wilds; or how much unmistakable humanity I have found in him."

(Quotes from "The Wilderness World of John Muir,"ed., Edwin Way Teale, Mariner Books, 2001.)

Sunday, February 14, 2016


The people who live here keep a tiny library they call a Generosity Zone.  It sits atop a post that's located, as is their attractive house, only feet away from a busy road heavy with traffic.  Library visitors can read a notice that says, "We love the idea of sharing books with each other; giving and returning books."
However, drivers are too concerned about negotiating the downhill curves ahead to notice what's being offered, and there isn't very much foot traffic either.  So the tiny library rarely has any patrons, but continues to stand in the Maine winter for an admirable belief.  

Saturday, December 26, 2015


"Any fool can destroy trees.  They cannot run away; and even if they could they would still be destroyed, chased and hunted down as long as fun or a dollar could be got out of their bark hides, branching horns, or magnificent bole backbones.  Few who fell trees plant them; nor would planting avail much toward getting back anything like the noble primeval forests.  During a man's life only saplings can be grown, in the place of the old trees, tens of centuries old, that have been destroyed."
"It took more than three thousand years to make some of the trees in these Western woods, trees that are still standing in perfect strength and beauty, waving and singing in the mighty forests of the Sierra.  Through all the wonderful, eventful centuries since Christ's time, and long before that, God has cared for these trees saved them from drought, diseases, avalanches, and a thousand straining, leveling tempests and floods, but he cannot save them from fools, only Uncle Sam can do that." (Our National Parks, 1901)

Sunday, November 15, 2015


When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.

W.B.Yates, 1892

Sunday, November 8, 2015


Until a couple of weeks ago this area was lush with red chokeberries, but the berry loving birds have foraged it clean, leaving only some milkweed to blow away, and apples ready to fall. 

In Maine it pays to keep an eye on the sky because unique sights are plentiful, but can fade quickly.
  This was taken two years ago at sunset in November.

Monday, November 2, 2015


If you spend a couple of hours walking around the Pinkham Notch Camp watching what gear is taken out of cars, listening to the questions and the serious advice being given, and especially having lunch where this sign hangs, you will start to feel the spirit of the place. 
Affectionately known as Joe Dodge's, it sits next to the Tuckerman's Ravine Trail, perhaps the most storied hike in the White Mountains for both skiers and mountaineers.

Just as things were getting interesting it was time to turn around.


The brilliance of this year's exceptional foliage season has passed now, but it can be revived for a few minutes by the setting sun.

Saturday, June 6, 2015


"I don't really know what happened," he said. "The moment I entered those gardens I was a man overwhelmed by a sense of living."
     "How could a garden, just seeing a garden, make a man happy," the maid asked."
     "And yet what I am telling you is quite an ordinary experience and other people will often tell you similar things in the course of your life.  I am a person for whom talking, for example, feeling at one with other people is a blessing, and suddenly in that garden I was so completely at home, so much at my ease, that it might have been made specially for me although it was an ordinary public garden.  I don't know how to put it any better, except perhaps to say that it was as if I had achieved something and become for the first time, equal to my life.  I could not bear to leave it.  The wind had risen, the light was honey- colored and even the lions whose manes glowed in the setting sun were yawning with the pure pleasure of being there.  The air smelt of lions and fire and I breathed it as if it were the essence of friendliness which had, at last included me.  All the passers-by were preoccupied with each other, basking in the evening light.  I remember thinking they were like the lions.  And suddenly I was happy."

Quoted from The Square, Marguerite Duras, Grove Press, 1965.

Jardin des Plantes, September 1981.

Friday, June 5, 2015


"Not that Watt desired information, for he did not.  But he desired words to be applied to his situation, to Mr. Knott, to the house, to the grounds, to his duties, to the stairs, to his bedroom, to the kitchen, and in a general way to the conditions of being in which he found himself.  For Watt now found himself in the midst of things which, which if they consented to be named, did so as it were with reluctance... Looking at a pot, for example, or thinking of a pot, at one of Mr. Knott's pots, it was in vain that Watt said, Pot, pot...It resembled a pot, it was almost a pot, but it was not a pot of which one could say Pot, pot, and be comforted."

Watt, Samuel Beckett, Grove Press, 1970, with Missy.