Our old barn road winds down through some aging spruce, through a wet area, on its way to Southport State Road 27. About 100 feet from the end of the barn road, there is a small jog off to the right which skirts some ledge in a particularly dense and scrubby section of pucker brush. Not an area to hang out in but one which requires some trimming back from time to time so entry onto Southport Route 27 doesn’t result in conflicting interests!

Sometimes the deadline for this column is challenging. I tend not to be good with deadlines, especially ones that are reoccurring. Too many games without a helmet I suspect! But then, it’s probably more realistic to admit that forming habits was never one of my strong suits, possibly encouraged by my significant dose of attention deficit. The number of started projects versus the number of completed ones is considerable. Eventually, things get done but often they take a while. Not a great attribute especially when completion is often associated with paydays in the work-a-day world. I run a deferred payment program very efficiently!

The gink is about to go!

By the time this issue of the newspaper hits the stands, the leaves from our ginkgo will all be on the ground. One day the tree is full with the bright yellow leaves and the next day the branches are empty. The “ginkgo drop” is sort of a family event here now, a standard fall event that generally occurs around Halloween. In fact, last year, the leaves dropped on Halloween. This year, and I don’t know why, the leaves are hanging on a bit longer. I figured, with the drought, that the leaves would drop early, but such is not the case.

One of the most fascinating things about living in our larger community, for me, is the diversity and unusual quality of our population.

You’d think, after 50-plus years in the area, that it would be possible to know a lot about the residents. Yet, to this day, I am often surprised or at least intrigued by how many people I do not know. I do realize that the local population is always changing as new folks arrive and leave, some by choice, others, without permission! Many of the wonderful people I have known since arriving in Maine are gone. Most of the folks I got to know in my early days as a Mainiac have moved on. Those who were in their 70s and 80s in 1975 are no longer with us. They were good friends and great people, and I miss them.

First off, let me preface this week’s adventure with a small disclaimer:  “I don’t get out much!” 

And that’s not an accident. It’s not that I am antisocial; it's just that there isn’t much incentive to leave the ranch. Plenty to do here! But last week was completely not hermit time. 

A friend from Maryland, not far from Washington, D.C., told me about his drive to Maine on Friday, Oct. 10. It wasn’t pretty!    

It has been a while since I set foot on Burnt Island. The last time I visited was the 200th anniversary of Burnt Island Light, one of the oldest lighthouses on the Maine coast, in November of 2021. There were fireworks and a significant gathering across the bay viewed from the Spruce Point Inn. Everyone was excited to see the Light lit, which it was, as soon as daylight diminished, which it did. Elaine Jones and a devoted group of “Keepers of the Light” made great effortsto bring justified attention to one of the area’s most historic structures.

Joe Gelarden shared a story, as he often does, with me about his first writing job attempt in his hometown of Indianapolis, Indiana, at The Indianapolis Star.

My first encounter with Mr. Cronkite was in the mid-80s when he and an entourage were visiting Boothbay Harbor during a Windjammer Days event. He was selling and signing a book he co-authored titled “North by Northeast” regarding sailing to Maine from New Jersey.

Try this one on for size!

Before going out on any job there are a few things to check over with my equipment. In the age of technology, and I am not a technologist, things can go wrong without really knowing. The new generations of digital cameras have so many buttons and controls that it's entirely possible to inadvertently move a setting that can send a camera system into orbit. I like to avoid orbit, especially when in the midst of an assignment.