Bob Dey from East Boothbay doesn't photograph much anymore, but he continues to see in a special way. His photographic skills, along with an ability to describe what he sees, have been enhanced and refined by a lifetime of keen observation.

He worked as a photojournalist in the military, recording what he encountered through his travels and assignments.

Barna Beal Norton was the first Beal I met in Maine. He lived in Jonesport, but I'm not sure he was related to Danny. However, there are many Beals in the Jonesport-Beals Island area — there's a good chance Danny Beal was kin.

I think Captain Beal Norton was sort of the area's majordomo back in the early ‘80s when I met him.

The puffins were coming back along the Maine coast and I was quite excited to discover Machias Seal Island, a substantial “home base” for the little migrating buggers.

If you had been on Monhegan last week hoping to see the “supermoon” rising from the sea, it would have looked a lot like the photo above.

It wasn't our primary reason for visiting the “magic island” so we had no idea where or when the moon would rise. But, as we intentionally overheard conversations among the smartphone set, a plan began to take shape.

If I had a nickel for my every Barrett’s Park photograph — weddings, senior pictures, family reunions, birthday parties, scenes of Lobster Cove, boats on Linekin Bay, Sprucewold shorelines, after glowing sunsets over Cabbage Island — we could buy a nice big whopping cheeseburger meal with all the fixins at the Bath Heartstopper's drive-thru and chase it with a large DQ chocolate soft serve.

Yes ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, it’s that good!

Lots of boats have been launched from the Washburn & Doughty East Boothbay facility.

But my first boatyard experience with the company was on the banks of the Kennebec River in Woolwich.

A commercial fishing vessel, Jacqueline Robin, was being built outdoors. It was a pretty bare bones operation, and in the winter, really cold.

It seems that around Labor Day, people from all over the country collect in their favorite spots to spend quality time together. In the last couple of weeks I have photographed five different family gatherings from Texas alone. Groups from Houston, Sugarland, Austin, Dallas and Abilene have all arranged their lives to visit Maine and coincidentally escape incredible temperatures that exceed 100 F on a daily basis. I'd want to come to Maine too!

It’s been fun. For some of the families, it was their first Maine visit. Others were veteran Maine visitors with intentions to return until they were incapacitated. And what great weather! Nice breezes, occasional rain (which apparently is rare in many Southwest regions right now), cool nights and the ocean!

Summer doesn't seem quite summer until the phlox ignites. A wonderful blast of color that seems to wait until just the right moment, then it’s everywhere.

During a recent visit to the Rittall Farm (home of the Community Garden) I was drawn to an old barn sided with natural shakes. The east side of the barn, up to almost window-height on one end, overflowed with phlox. The plants held a remarkable aroma and contrasted perfectly with the graying shingles.

Albert Greenleaf does not go lobstering. I don't know if he ever did, even though he grew up on the western shore of Barters Island. He could go to the waters of the Sheepscot River easier than he could go to town.

Albert did go to Germany in the service, though. He speaks German. If you say “guten tag” to him as he is walking to the fire station he will reply accurately and precisely in German. Maybe going to Germany had something to do with why he didn't go lobstering. I'm not sure.

Some of my earliest work here in the region was with Bigelow Lab.

Charlie and Clarice Yentsch hired me to make some photographs at the labs for a promotional piece they were preparing. I remember wandering around the McKown Point property recalling smells from high school chemistry class mixed with washed up dead fish that our dog rolled in. There was a lot of strange equipment and some pretty interesting people. Rather fascinating actually.

The milkweed is blooming here at the old homestead. What a wonderful fragrance. I never realized.

To me, milkweed always showed up on our fall field walks to school. Nothing to write home about — old dried up pods with silky strands, seeds and white goo. Interesting shapes though.

The most common question asked by many who live here year around is, “What is it like here in the winter?” The second most common question is, “What is it like here in the winter?”

Well, the answer is not simple. It depends a lot upon who you ask. If you ask me, last winter was, on a 0-10 scale of aggravation, an 8.795. Scores did not seem to vary much throughout the region.

Mark Stover has great stories about his family connection to the Life Saving Station at Damariscove. You can hear his genuine affection for the place when he talks about the island and its history.

Recently I got a call from a charming young lady from “Down South” who is a school teacher interested in photography. She wanted to see some of the special spots around the Boothbay region and thought I might have some suggestions.

Another one of my favorite places in the region (there are many as has been noted) is the property on Cozy Harbor we called Roscoe's Place. I'm sure that's not its proper name but folks knew what we were talking about when we called it that. It is just across a tiny tidal inlet from what used to be Gus Pratt's store. Roscoe's boathouse and wharf are still there, as is the dock, but the house is gone. A small and beautiful outbuilding still remains too, up from the water.

We met Roscoe (Rand) during summer visits with our friends Marylou Teel and Peter Freundlich from New York City. They had Roscoe look after their motorboat, and he did some repairs for them on a turnabout, I think.

Our daughters learned to spell by ear. Fortunately for us, music, singing, reading and theatre were part of their lives from a very early age.

Their ears were well tuned.

Diane Randlett visited Lynette Page’s back field of dame’s rocket back before the Boothbay Register was printing photographs in color. Diane made a great black and white photo, which showed how the plant was making a home at the Page house. My photograph, when compared to Diane’s, really shows how the plant has spread, even into the neighbor’s yard, Mrs. Page pointed out.

I learned of this field of dame’s rocket through a phone call from Jan Beaver, over on Union Street in the Harbor. She mentioned seeing the vast array of blooms and suggested I visit.

Geese, like red squirrels, are either loved or hated. Sometimes loved and tolerated, depending upon the circumstances. It’s one of those, “not in my back yard” situations. Geese may be more enjoyed when they frequent the empty lot next door instead of the freshly mowed grass of the front yard. They float nicely too in area waters.

Geese, unlike reds, are not inclined to breech an attic vent or burrow into a foundation. Red squirrels inside a house go completely bonkers, setting off motion detectors, chewing up wires and furniture, and in general, camping out wherever they please. Geese don't do that.

This time of year always reminds me of “Miss Rumphius.”

We read “Miss Rumphius” to the girls when they were little, and to ourselves when we wanted. For those who may not know “Miss Rumphius,” you should.

So, most people who live here or visit regularly know the “rules of the road.” But, every now and then, there is what I call a “flummox” - you know, a crossed wires situation. In the words of some famous movie person, “A failure to communicate.”

Grover's Alley (my name for it) presents “flummox” opportunity.

Calm. Empty. Peculiar. For a mid-week day, the quiet was unusual.

It’s not what I’ve come to expect in Wiscasset, especially with discussions about traffic along Route 1, bypasses, crosswalks, economic impact and other general concerns. The stillness was nice for the moment, but certain to change.