Even before we moved to Southport in 2001, the Cape Newagen area was a well visited location for me.

Over the years, in all seasons, I have enjoyed the beauty of this idyllic little harbor — at sunrise and sunset, at high tide and low. The town landing pier is a great vantage for views that go from Ocean Point to Reid State Park and Popham. Damariscove island and lighthouses at Ram Island, the Cuckolds and Seguin Island, stand out, and on a clear day, who knows how far can be seen.

Harold Clifford played the piano during my Rotary tenure.

“How about a rousing chorus of ‘God Bless America,’ boys?” he would sing out. And off we’d go. Great stuff. A gang of men singing their hearts out. Yup, all men back in those days. And smoking was allowed. Generally after a dutifully prepared meal by Madame Durfee, the cigarettes lit and smoke filled the air.

Almost exactly two years ago this fall the image above found its way into my viewfinder shortly after departing Wiscasset airport, in a Cessna “172” puddle jumper. I had a good batch of aerial work to do and was waiting for tree color and fair weather.

Many will know of this bridge but maybe not this view.

It seems like every restaurant in the area has oysters on the menu. For a long time, in the Harbor at least, Ken Brown, seemed to be the only place in town that offered them, just inside the door to the restaurant, in a big iced filled display. They were hard to miss.

I think I probably overlooked them on purpose because I never quite developed a taste for the little gems. Something about the texture that gave me pause. Ken always offered them when we visited for dinner, but we politely declined. He may have felt a little annoyed that we wouldn’t try a few.

Marylouise Cowan, the late owner/publisher of the Boothbay Register, was a buddy of ours who we admired and enjoyed. I'd photograph a party for her now and then or maybe she would ask me to make a photo for the paper, but she rarely asked for a favor.

However, many years ago, when she was still firing on all cylinders, she called me, or maybe it was Judith Sutter, her assistant, who called. Marylouise needed a favor.

Heretofore unavailable results of Mitchell's Rorschach test have surfaced, and it's confirmed — massive inconsistencies, but an unwitting willingness to try.

Although this may come as a shock to some the above photo is a normal and recurring image. It's merely a view of the reflection of the Catholic Church, floating on the water near the Atlantic Edge pier.

If you were a bug on a blossom in somebody's beautiful flower garden, you'd probably be quite amazed to hear the chatter associated with these two ladies. No need for a defoliant or herbicide. The weeds just give up!

Not much chance that you'd find chemicals of any sort associated with Lisa or Trish. They are pretty natural ladies — and I mean that in a good way. Weeds come out by the roots and flowers and bushes get snipped off with razor sharp hand tools. Just stand back because you could be struck by flying objects.

We try to get out to Monhegan every year. It's one of our most favorite places (of the places we have seen) on the planet. But with schedules and obligations, we are not always able to make the crossing.

Sometimes, on short notice, there is a break in the action, and we just scramble and go. Such was the case this past weekend. With our eldest daughter Mae home from New York, we grabbed the chance. The only thing that could have messed us up was the weather. And it almost did.

Ron was filling a car tank from an inside pump on the outside island at the “Good ’N You,” on his cell phone while trying to tell me about this fella’s riding lawnmower with two flat tires. He pointed to the old red critter, a “Snap-on Wizard," tarnished red and listing hard to starboard next to a BMW, with an Audi just in front. Ron said the mower was towed into the station on a trailer because it couldn't be driven.

We lived on the same street as Shirley for more than 10 years.

Sherman Street is one of the Harbor’s hidden gems. It's a dead end street that goes up the hill from West Street, across from where Doc Andrews used to live. If you drove up Sherman Street, and could keep going, you would come out at the top center of the Fullerton Street loop. But you can’t.

Last week had a different feeling to it, sort of.

Things started out on a little different beat- shifting gears a bit. The pace knocked down a notch or two.

Everyone pretty much knows about seagulls. They are a quirky bunch. Can't ever quite predict their next move.

I will always recall the time we took some out of town visitors to what was then “Lobstermen's Co-op” on the East side of the harbor, for a wonderful picnic table meal outside on the pier overlooking the water. One of our favorite things to do with guests. We even got to enjoy a little break in the action, and become tourists.

Being on the coast of Maine without a boat, it seems to me, is a bit like living in the Alps without skis. I'm sure many people do without.

As a photo person, my landlubberishness, encourages creativity when it comes to the nautical landscape. How does one enjoy the marine life without being a mariner?

Many thanks to Barbara Freeman and the Boothbay Register for the thorough and positive review of my new Around Boothbay Harbor 2018 calendar. You can read the full review here, and you can order a calendar of your very own, or gift one to someone, by clicking here. Thank you!

Hi everybody. Don't mean to be a downer, but felt, in the peak of summer, it would be nice to share an image with our summer guests. How thoughtful of me, you might say!

A helpful gesture. A visual answer to the frequently asked question, "What's it like up here in winter."

Sometimes I feel that people I've loved, who are gone from this earth, float back into my life from time to time.

My mother, for example, fed chickadees from her hand at home, in her pajamas. To this day I am convinced that she visits us. "Just checking in" comes the chirp from the little bird, zipping around the yard, pausing to look things over. I really think it's mother, getting an eye full. There is something reassuring about these visits — there just is!

Last week, for those who park in this space on their way to the crossword puzzle, you may recall that my attempt to photograph with Southport's Leigh Sherrill was foiled by rain and fog. Well, I'm here to tell you, oh devoted Register readers, that Lady Leigh lifted off from Wiscasset airport at about 7:30 a.m. Friday, July 21.

Leigh Sherrill is going to fly again and I want to be there when she does. So, it was going to be this past weekend, but the weather got in the way. Saturday rain was predicted and Sunday the fog rolled in.

Like many other cool things I've enjoyed during my life here in Maine, lighthouses have provided interesting adventures. After all, we were lighthouse deprived during my youth in Appalachian Pennsylvania! Although, we did have fire towers.

Over the years, I have visited locations up and down the coast involving a variety of projects.We've even published lighthouse notecards and have made posters of Portland Head light, Pemaquid Point light and Quoddy Head.

Every year, for many years, Mark Stover has invited me to join him aboard Redhook for a splendid cruise when the ships arrive for Windjammer Days. It’s an event I look forward to and always fun, even when the weather isn't ideal, which it tends not to be sometimes.