Every year, our family tries to arrange a weeklong gathering in August. It’s a much-anticipated event for everyone to be together onMonhegan, one of the most favorite places we know. Sometimes we have needed to adjust, as we did last year with the arrival of two wonderful additions to our crew, Vera and Winslow, our first grandchildren. We adjusted and managed to employ alternate plan B for visits on the fly, one grandchild in Maine and one in Brooklyn, New York. This year we are looking forward to having everyone together, including our newest little ones.  

Imagine if you can, a 118-foot, 12,000-pound tree lying on the ground with all sorts of branches dangling from the top one third of its length. Now, visualize lifting that tree from the ground, by its top, to a totally airborne vertical position. Then take that tree another 50 feet into the air so it can be aligned perfectly to fit in a hole just under two feet in diameter. It's an almost incomprehensible process. Then, once that tree is in place, do it all over again with another tree!

I know it is ancient history but so much community fun! Events with a focus on what makes the region a community. No great fanfare, no fireworks, nothing but a real treat to celebrate special local people and organizations. I miss it. But, generally speaking, things don’t happen just because I like them. However, looking back through old photos tells me it was a grand celebration for the history of our area. If today’s photo prints well, you will recognize many familiar things. The boats, the people, the buildings, many of which and whom are long gone, remind me of the basic stuff that galvanized our community and its wonderful people. I know I recognize many old friends and buildings, but I’m sure there are those among us who know way more than I do.

They’re back! And good for us … Saturday evening at the Opera House with a joyful return visit from Lara Tupper and Bobby Sweet. It’s been a few years since my last visit with this charming and wonderful music duo. I hope they still have chickens!

It's been 30 years since Cecil Pierce passed and 120 years since his birth, yet many of his accomplishments linger. The stories about Cecil’s accomplishments and activities are too numerous to mention, especially since my contact with him was quite limited. I knew about Cecil and have seen products of his creation, but I think there are many other people, especially here on Southport, who would be far more knowledgeable than I. Needless to say, Cecil Pierce was a pretty unique individual ... emphasis on individual! He built his own roads and traveled them without hesitation.

One of the nicest things about working with the Boothbay Register is Kevin Burnham’s willingness (reluctantly sometimes I suspect) to cut me some slack … and correct my screw ups! For example, today I was trying to pull something together for my weekly column. No small challenge! During a moment of brilliance, having written all but a brief signoff, I clicked the wrong key on my computer and vaporized the entire column! I wrote to Kevin to share my mishap and he graciously said it was OK if I took a little more time. I took a walk, made a cup of tea and here I am, trying again. Jeesh, thanks, Kevin.

What a pleasant surprise to see our shadows during a late afternoon walk with our newest best friend Leica the wonder dog. We wonder if she is a dog! What a piece of work.

Moore’s Rock is right behind the house where we used to live at the top of Sherman Street in the Harbor. At the suggestion of Bernard Coady, my barber for what little hair I had, we bought his mother’s house. Verna Coady had shared her house for years with seasonal women workers, a boarding house of sorts. Nettie Mitchell, our next door neighbor on Sherman Street, rented rooms to seasonal young men workers. It was a lovely neighborhood for our family. Uncle Harry and Aunt Alice Gray lived across the street. We bordered Moore’s Rock. The location was one of the highest points in the area, once sporting a tower for signal flags.

Well, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, I was close, but no cigar! 

Our pond de-iced this past weekend but no ducks. It seems many of the island ducks have taken up residence on the Southport school pond, revving up a bit before making the big transition down the road to our place. There was a large gathering at the school the other day when I went by, possibly trying to reach consensus regarding the next move. I suspect we will see the flock soon on our pond about one week later than last year.

In the past several years, the village ducks have returned to our pond by now and are happily paddling around quacking as they scurry off to overhanging bushes lining the water. But this year, the pond seems to have a death grip on its ice, some of which may be the result of the deep freezing temperatures of early winter. From the amount of tracks on the snowy areas on the pond, the ducks' absence may be warranted. Seems like all the wildlife has been on high alert looking for food. I think it's been a tough winter for most.