Mike could tell you things that you never wanted to know.

He had an unmistakable laugh that you could hear a mile away, and many people did!

Once a gang of us had a birthday party for Mike. He was emphatic about his birthday party. It could not be avoided, even six months late. Every time he got bumped into — “When are you guys gonna have my party?”

In the winter, visitors slow to a crawl. Far less activity when the weather turns cold. Except for the errant robin which, according to our Aunt Bea, heads for the deep woods, visible occasionally announcing that not everyone who can goes south.

But, in spring, it's a different story around here. Things are hopping right now. This place bubbles over with all sorts of new faces, especially of the winged variety.

When Tony Heyl's “A Silver Lining” gave the local cable BRCTV a drone for creating lovely regional aerial videos (see BRCTV7.org), I asked him if he intended to do some flying.

Tony responded, “Mitchell, if I tried to fly that thing, it would be my luck to crash into the ninth tee of the celebrity golf tournament, clobbering some late great hockey player and terminating our careers. I'd much rather be supportive of others and out of sight.

Packed up some gear and waddled over town for a little walk around last week. Fog and the night. Maybe some of my spooky Edgar Allen Poe uncertainties returning. So fun to experience the feel of the Harbor at the time of day/night.

As many people know, I am not one to talk much about photo technical stuff. Especially now with the digital revolution, which continues to befuddle me. Too many things to know for such a small brain. I had film down pretty well and then it mostly went away.

I photographed a wedding over the weekend for a lovely couple from New York City. A great weather weekend!

When they first contacted me and said they were getting married in Maine on May 21, I cringed a little. Do you know what the weather can be like in May?” I asked. “It has been known to snow.”

A good friend, Sally Giantris, left a phone message for me a couple weeks back. She said that a local group of hookers would be gathering at her house for a three day guided workshop.

Now, defaulted personality that I have, memories of my early 1970s’ years working just outside New York City surfaced.

I hope Billy isn't upset with me for this. He is a private person, maybe a little shy, which in many ways, appeals to me. He sort of just goes on with his life, quietly, without fanfare. Billy is a completer -- not many loose ends. Which I also admire since I usually have at least a half dozen things flying around at one time, unfinished.

I think the first time I met Billy Latter was at the old Murray Hill Sonny Hodgdon shop where Margaret, Sonny's wife, delivered homemade fresh from the oven still warm cookies. It was a cozy space and very productive. A perfect fit for Billy and a small group of gifted craftsmen.

Changes of all sorts seem to be the topic of discussion throughout the region these days — golf course, Boothbay Common, area restaurants, renovations to existing facilities, and on and on.

For me, one of the biggest markers for change on our peninsula happens each year about this time, like the swallows returning to Capistrano. The return of seasonal water marks the true arrival of spring.

We had some pretty big doings here on the island last week.

Our volunteer fire department, along with Boothbay and Boothbay Harbor, planned and set up an emergency “mutual aid” practice focusing on the unthinkable prospects of a fire at the Hodgdon Yacht (formerly Boothbay Region Boatyard) facility at the end of Ebenecook Road. This was a large project, coordinating three departments, equipment and many firefighting personnel. Traffic was diverted and roads were blocked. Ebenecook Road, however, became a flurry of activity.

There is so much going on at Boothbay Harbor Shipyard, it's hard to fathom.

A great old sardine carrier, Glenn-Geary, is being checked out for repairs. It has seen some hard times and I'm sure with nautical TLC new life will visit her old bones. Parts of the boat are being probed. How much of the keel needs attention? How good is the hull? New fastenings? New planks? Whatever it takes. I hope we will get to see Glenn-Geary make a miraculous recovery. There are folks at the shipyard who can get it done.

“In the end, we are all just sticks in the mud.”

Seems like a rather odd comment coming from a young man I mentored back in the early ’70s. He lived in the projects in Newark, New Jersey, and would have been hard pressed to even find sticks or mud. The first time he ever saw the ocean was with me at the tender age of 16.

Mary Pinkham has retired as children's librarian at Boothbay Harbor Memorial Library, but as many of us know, she will always remain part of our lives and the lives of our children. For 29 years “Pinkus” gave us more than books and words. She showed us a way to enjoy each other and the experience of coming together. Mary's space was created for the joy of sharing things that will never leave us.

As you leave Boothbay Center with its myriad of complicated forthcomings, on a walk, bike or drive, go west down Corey Lane. Take the first right onto Barters Island Road

and travel on.

Do you suppose “Daylight Saving Time” was a thought when Mr. Chaucer penned “Time and tide wait for no man?” I don't think so.

We just scooted clocks ahead an hour this past weekend, which has me a bit out of sync with whatever had become somewhat routine over the last many months. Routine, for me, you must understand, is subject to review.

Before landing in Maine, Truro and Wellfleet on Cape Cod were, and still are, among my favorite places. The late afternoon sunlight shining on the Harbor houses of this week's photo reminded me of my times there.

Edward Hopper painted a fair amount on “The Cape” as he did here in Maine, on Monhegan, around Cape Elizabeth and other places. His work often emphasized angular light, deep shadows and the architecture of New England.

No need to remind anyone about the weather we have been having this “winter.” It's been really quite unusual. Even I'm confused, weather geek that I can tend to be.

As one might suspect, photographing is quite weather influenced. I check the weather systems often in anticipation of conditions for travel, location and trends, especially when outdoor subjects are in play. The weather maps have looked like a complicated football strategy for an onside kick! Lines, pressure gradients, fronts, cells, wind speeds, temperatures, precipitation -- yikes! What's a mother to do?

This was my first ocean view upon landing here in Boothbay.

It's the old Rumsey cottage view. When I could get to a phone, I called the superintendent of schools where I taught in New Jersey and resigned.

We first got to know Paul Noah when we lived “across the rock” from his home and folks, Oscar and Marilyn. We had moved from Kimballtown Road on Barters Island to our wonderful home at the top of Sherman Street, up the hill off West Street, between the houses of Dr. Cushman and Alice Larkin. Our house belonged to Verna Coady, mother of Bernard Coady, one of the local Harbor barbers.

It was a coin toss -- heads I win, tails, you lose.

Do I stay inside and nap through the pregame quagmire or go out and try to replace the massive divots I'd peeled off our property in an attempt to clear snow?