The above posted photo is neither the latest sunset of the year nor that of the longest day of the year, but it is close.

For those of you who read this column, you may recall a photograph I made on what I guessed to be the shortest day of the year, in the vicinity of December 21st last year. Not that anyone really cared, because, at that time of year, in the land of the 5 p.m. darkness, there are many more significant matters of concern. Like, for example, how do I stay awake past 6 o'clock! And, why do I have the energy of congealed molasses?

I guess I'd like to start with two apologies.

One. Sorry for the obligatory lupine photo. I know there are tons of lupine photos everywhere this time of year. On the internet, in magazines, on TV, etc., etc. But I just can't resist throwing in my two cents. These plants fascinate me.

One of the first weddings I photographed here in Maine was for Carol Yereance and Rick Heaberlin. It was a great family gathering for a couple who might have met at the then local hot spot, Village Cash and Carry. Carol's mother and father both worked there, as did Carol's sister, brother Ken and wife Deb, and Louis Burnham. The rolls they made for sandwiches and subs, and for just plain eating, were the best around. Reminded me a lot of New Jersey deli food I'd eaten during my teaching days.

Chetley Rittall owned a boat shop at the head of the Harbor. I think he landed at that location close to two decades before we bought our first house on Barters Island — around 1978. The space that was his shop is now empty but completely renovated for “Christopher's,” a wonderful local restaurant favored by many.

I have never seen a whale. Well, let me take that back.

Years ago when Cap'n Bob Fish was developing his new “Whale Watch” trips, I went with him to get some photos of whales for the company brochure. We did see some minke whales, but they were not very large when compared to some of their more substantial ocean cousins.

When we left Maine last week for Topsail Island, North Carolina and a family wedding, it was almost 50 degrees. The next few days after our departure, so we are told, were very warm. In the 80s!

When we landed in Charlotte, North Carolina to catch a connecting flight to Wilmington, the temperature in the pathway between our plane and the terminal got our attention. We had anticipated the change from Maine but were not prepared. At Wilmington airport we went officially outdoors to pick up a rental car which had been totally closed up and sitting in the sun. I detected a subtle change in temperature and humidity.

For a quick special moment, the light at the end of the tunnel lit our inside spaces and even the tunnel entrance. The sun sparkled on the ocean waters, puddles almost dried up, blooming and greening things made some progress. Even our peonies had a growth spurt before I had a chance to completely clear out last year's old stems and debris.

The sounds and motions of Cutter II caught my attention as it moved up into Linekin Neck off the Bayville shore.

Water rushed from the wooden traps lifted onto the boat gracefully and grabbed up, placed for emptying and re-bait. Captain Craig circled the boat as the stern man slid a trap overboard. It was like watching a dance without any music.

Romar Bowling Lanes, the bowling alley at 19 Bridge Street in Boothbay Harbor owned by Charlie Rowe and his family for 70 years, will soon be gone. Since Rowe’s death in 2011, the space has been empty. Considered an iconic landmark, the 16,000-square-foot building was built in 1928 by developer O.P. Swope and purchased in 1946 by Rowe and his father-in-law, Leslie Marr — hence the name Romar Bowling Lanes.

Now that building, and the wharf and parking lot on the waterfront behind it, have been sold. The bowling alley will be demolished and a new structure will be built in its place.

When I have exhibited my work, people invariably ask, “What the heck were you thinking about with that photo?” And much to the disappointment of the questioner, I generally reply, “You know, I don't know.”

This has proven, almost always, to be a very unsatisfactory response. But honestly, I really can't explain why. As you might imagine, this can be a pretty challenging position when working on assignment for someone who might have a very definite idea about what is “the best view.”

Since last posting here about the Ernestina-Morrissey project at Boothbay Harbor Shipyard (September 2016), great progress has been made.

Upon arrival, the Ernestina-Morrissey was in hard shape. Looking back through some of my early images reminds me of how desperately repairs were needed. In the early days of this project it was impossible for me to imagine how extensive the work would be and become. 

For all of the time we lived in the Harbor, Mr. Steane owned and operated Rocktide. And, for a fair stretch, I got to work with him on ads, brochures and promotions.

Mr. Steane always arrived at Rocktide in semi formal business attire, which included one of his substantial assortment of bow ties. I used to bust him about the bow ties. He, in turn, suggested that I look into “upgrading” my attire. We managed to tolerate our differences.

Gloves are like underwear. Everybody has preferences. This brand or that. The material. The fit. The fashion.

There are now so many different kinds of gloves. Gloves for work. Gloves for driving. Gloves for skiing, boating, motorcycles, bikes. Gloves that keep you warm and gloves that breath in summer. Rubber gloves. Cotton gloves. Yadda, yadda yadda.

Russ Brackett was the local Nissen bread man back in the ’70s when I worked overnight clean up at The Tugboat Inn. He would land at the most ridiculous hour, entering through the kitchen door, to replenish bakery goods for the restaurant. We'd have a quick visit and maybe share a slice of pie and a coffee and then he would be on his way. A nice break from cleaning the rubber floor mats on the line.

Antonisa, the beautiful 124' sloop built at the Murray Hill Hodgdon shop went into the water in 1999, in this very spot. For that event, it was standing room only. On this day of my photograph, as you can see, there was ample space. Fairly typical of how the seasons run around here. Some might say its sort of nice when there is a little less going on.

You know what really burns me up?

When I brew a wonderful cup of coffee from my favorite stash of exquisite beans (personally ground by me at home), with an elegant dollop of home grown local honey, adding just the right amount of high quality half and half which instantly curdles to floating white chunks.

Eventually everyone who works with computers will experience some sort of problem with the machine. Some are more capable of resolving these challenging moments than others.

Take me for instance, a late arrival to the world of technology. I'm happy as a clam as long as things are running smoothly, beaming up mail, working on photos, ordering online. But, when there is a malfunction, for whatever reason, I freak!

Sometimes when you're not looking, the coolest stuff shows up.

Understanding full well that what I find interesting may not be the icing on everybody's cake.

Last week at this time I contacted Kevin Burnham, editor at the Boothbay Register, to say that my column would be delayed. Snow had drifted up the front door. I couldn't get out. He said he understood, sharing that he hoped to resume the search for his car and begin shoveling.

I removed the glass panel from the storm door from inside and faced chest high drifts between me and the tractor shed. We needed to open up the lane to the state road. It was quite a slog. But we “got 'er done,” eventually.

In the early 1990s, Kernan Cross and I opened a photo lab, Main Street Photo, in Damariscotta. Kernan had good knowledge of lab operations and I had some contacts at AGFA, the German film company and photo lab operations group. We were able to purchase a used system for film processing, and a separate unit for printing. The timing was pretty good, and even though we were outlanders from down river, local Damariscotta folk eventually warmed to the convenience of an intown facility.