When I came to Maine I did not know who Andrew Wyeth was, but I quickly learned. One of my favorite subjects is his painting of the Olson House in Cushing. I have visited there alone, and with family and friends many times and still enjoy walking the property and wandering through the house. As many know, I am a sucker for old buildings and historic locations. For me, the Olson House pretty much captures everything that appeals to me. The weathered wooden exteriors with aging clapboards, rooms with peeling paint and plaster, old glass, simple furnishings and, last but not least, the great kitchen and stove and attached barn.

In 1971, freshly graduated from a Pennsylvania State Teacher’s College (just renamed a university), I started to look for a job. It was not a great time for new work, jobs were scarce and many my age were still available for the draft, which made job hunting even more complicated. I had a very low number in the first draft lottery meant to fill military quotas for Vietnam, and my college had a huge mandatory Army ROTC program at the time. When I checked with my draft board in Bellefonte, Pennsylvania, the woman with whom I spoke said, “Pack your bags!” There was a big draft call and enlistment from central Pennsylvania. We all were hunters, familiar with the use of firearms, and prime prospects.

A quick riddle. How do you identify a vehicle from West Southport? Look in traffic for something that looks like it traveled between Caratunk and Rockwood via dirt roads. These are pretty easy to identify, often driven by disgruntled and confused drivers who make hand gestures during lane changes. Do not take these gestures personally. Just return the gesture and smile. Non-local drivers eventually realize how much we like to share!

Before I get too far offshore with this week’s adventure to Monhegan Island, I’d like to mention new information regarding last week’s subject, the new book “The Baycliff Saltwater Farm Family” by Dr. Clarice Yentsch. I mentioned that the book could be found through Waypoint Foundation’s website. Well, the good news is that it will now be available at Boothbay Harbor’s Sherman’s Bookstore. I didn’t goof exactly, but I wasn’t certain enough to mention this last week. So, get your copy soon because there may not be an unlimited supply.

Last week we, and a variety of interested souls, had a lovely and unique visit at Southport Memorial Library. A diverse group from near and far had an opportunity to hear Dr. Clarice Yentsch chat about one of her most recent creations, "The Baycliff Saltwater Farm Family," a book about a historically significant and personal parcel of land situated on an inside stretch of the Sheepscot River across from the southern end of Indiantown Island. An accumulation of wonderful text accompanied by an exceptionally diverse collection of art, this book offers an original and historical glimpse into many lives and ways that celebrate place and people. It is a special recognition of how much the natural world offers and how our fleeting presence can reveal who we are and what we have become. It is a glimpse.

When our daughters were little people, we spent many fun times with family and friends at Barrett’s Park, a wonderful spit of land surrounded by Lobster Cove waters, sandwiched between Sprucewold, the road to Wall Point and greater Linekin Bay. It’s a public park with a private feel.

Long before I came to Maine, photography interested me. I didn’t know much about the process but enjoyed the adventure. It was a cool way for me to “focus," which was always a challenge due to some crossed wires in my brain. Looking through the tiny viewfinder helped me stay on subject without distraction, and keep an eye out for fun things. I started processing my own black and white films in, around or about 1965. “Magic in a box,” I used to call it. After high school and college I continued to photograph with no particular intention other than pure enjoyment.

Long before I came to Maine, photography interested me. I didn’t know much about the process but enjoyed the adventure. It was a cool way for me to “focus," which was always a challenge due to some crossed wires in my brain. Looking through the tiny viewfinder helped me stay on subject without distraction, and keep an eye out for fun things. I started processing my own black and white films in, around or about 1965. “Magic in a box,” I used to call it. After high school and college I continued to photograph with no particular intention other than pure enjoyment.

Danny Beal and I landed here in the Boothbay area at about the same time. I, a traveling Willberry from away, and Danny, a traveling show from the Jonesport-Beals area. It was the late ’70s and nobody much cared. I found Arthur Barlow and Dwight Plummer at Harbor Motors, and Danny found a community of wonderful encouraging supportive fans.

To mow or not to mow, that is the question!

It’s a toss up, but it’s hot and it’s dry. The grass is long and if I mow there will be a raking party for sure. But keeping the grass long in extended dry spells with high heat, I think, helps to protect the grass from going up in smoke. With an abundance of ledge and poor soil, it doesn’t take long for our grass to turn to straw. So, I have opted not to mow, just yet. Maybe after a little rain, which I hope comes soon, I can launch the John Deere for the much needed haircut.

Dog owners beware! Porcupines are back!

On another note: The past week or so, and perhaps even into much of this week, we will be experiencing some foggy weather. It’s all a part of easing into spring, I guess.

It was a magnificent Maine day for the Harbor community and guests, from land and by sea.

Wonderful bluebird sky, painterly puffy clouds, bright sunshine and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, a Windjammer Days tradition. All aboard Captain Mark Stover’s Redhook historic vessel. Who could ask for more!

“Build it and they will come!” I think a movie baseball metaphor is appropriate for our annual big event here in the Boothbay region. Only, in our case, perhaps a slight modification of the phrase might be, “Sail it, and, weather permitting, we hope they will come!”

Every year at this time, there are big doings here in “River City.” Windjammer Days sort of officially marks the liftoff of the summer season as the Harbor fills with visiting guests, seasonal residents and, fingers crossed, sailing ships from near and far. Ultimately, however, the final determining factor lies with the great Mother of Nature. The weather really counts and, despite all plans, Mother has the final say.

In the late 80s, we had some concerns about my late mother-in-law. At that time she was living in New Jersey and Pennsylvania with friends and we were not able to have much first hand personal time together. A few things seemed to be popping up that made us consider moving her to Maine so we could be closer and keep a better eye on things. And, to boot, our daughters, Grammy’s granddaughters, were cute little peanuts and Grammy’s pride and joy. She missed them and us. It seemed like a good idea to be closer.

It’s lupine time! And, from the looks of it, this year will produce a bumper crop of this multi-colored roadside attraction. Lupine seem to spread quite effectively which sometimes means they come and go, from year to year, frequently clambering for space one year then all but vanishing the next. I’m sure many lupine lovers are confused by what once may have been a wonderful patch only to find the plant vanished a following season.

One of my all-time favorite photos was made courtesy of Ella Beauregard when she and her parents lived in the old Ruth Gardner house, just up from Hendricks Head beach on Southport. I was just down by the beach parking lot looking out over Kitten Rock and south towards Seguin Island lighthouse. Ella was just a little person then, maybe 10 or 11 years old. I had no idea who she was when she came walking down from her house with two chickens tucked happily together, one under each arm. Ella didn’t say a word as she walked by me and flung the two chickens off the seawall gliding pleasantly onto the beach below! I was captivated.

Several years ago, well maybe more like seven or eight years ago, Barry Sherman called me. “Bobby!” Barry has always called me Bobby, I’m not sure why.

“Bobby! We are putting out flags for vets in area cemeteries and hoped maybe you could give us a hand.” Well, as anyone who knows Barry Sherman, when a task is at hand one must muster troops when available. Barry is an old buddy. I was available.

Every year, our family tries to arrange a weeklong gathering in August. It’s a much-anticipated event for everyone to be together onMonhegan, one of the most favorite places we know. Sometimes we have needed to adjust, as we did last year with the arrival of two wonderful additions to our crew, Vera and Winslow, our first grandchildren. We adjusted and managed to employ alternate plan B for visits on the fly, one grandchild in Maine and one in Brooklyn, New York. This year we are looking forward to having everyone together, including our newest little ones.  

Imagine if you can, a 118-foot, 12,000-pound tree lying on the ground with all sorts of branches dangling from the top one third of its length. Now, visualize lifting that tree from the ground, by its top, to a totally airborne vertical position. Then take that tree another 50 feet into the air so it can be aligned perfectly to fit in a hole just under two feet in diameter. It's an almost incomprehensible process. Then, once that tree is in place, do it all over again with another tree!

I know it is ancient history but so much community fun! Events with a focus on what makes the region a community. No great fanfare, no fireworks, nothing but a real treat to celebrate special local people and organizations. I miss it. But, generally speaking, things don’t happen just because I like them. However, looking back through old photos tells me it was a grand celebration for the history of our area. If today’s photo prints well, you will recognize many familiar things. The boats, the people, the buildings, many of which and whom are long gone, remind me of the basic stuff that galvanized our community and its wonderful people. I know I recognize many old friends and buildings, but I’m sure there are those among us who know way more than I do.