Monthly Archives: August 2013


Evening approaches Abrams Pond

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Sunset, Abrams Pond 2013


Moon over Abrams Pond 2013

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Full moon, Abrams Pond

Something Nice

So, upon reaching our vacation destination in Maine, one of my top priorities was to sit in peace and read this book. That I did. Thank you J. I enjoyed this book very much.


Sometimes it still happens. Goodness appears without being beckoned. Last week a package arrived at my front door and it was addressed to me. I quickly racked my brain trying to recall if I had ordered anything or had been waiting for any items. Nothing came to mind. My wife encouraged me to open the box as she seemed to know what it was. So, open it, I did. The package gave no clues as to who this was from, and neither did the contents upon opening the box. It was a book. A book about the nuances and unwritten rules of our national pastime. A book on baseball, one I didn’t already own. I was happy to receive this gift but still didn’t know who it was from until I opened the front cover. There was a simple hand written note inside. The book was from a friend. A…

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The heron, an eagle, loons, and me

It was the middle of the day when I climbed in
A two seat canoe, a paddle, and me, I did begin
The water was calm and close to crystal clear
Moving through water, and birds, all I could hear
Not a cloud to be found among the blue sky
The sun warmed everything from up on high
I imagined this place in a time centuries before
Wishing it were then, and how I’d still explore
I moved slowly, and quietly, letting my senses record
The smells, the sounds, the sights, while aboard
A faint noise from above sparked my heightened sense
I moved toward the cattails and reeds oh so dense
I squinted and searched for the origin of the sound
And soon, a great blue heron in a spruce, I found
Moving away to allow it some space, another sound
I heard from across the cove and closer to the ground
It was another heron calling, or at least to be heard
When above my head appeared, yet another bird
Passing the spruce and gliding in, a bald eagle did rise
The majestic bird landed with grace before my eyes
Once in his perch, silence ensued, nothing dared move
Or so it seemed, but for me, my site to improve
All at once a splash from behind, and I turned to see
But nothing was there but ripples left for me
Resuming my gaze the calm pierced masked in black
The loon appeared from below, after a snack
My masked playmate called another yards away
The eagle, or not, the loons wanted to play
Time stalled and rested with me there in the sun
Sitting still in nature, watching, I was having fun
My mind raced to the eras past, land minus flaw
And I wondered what I missed among all I saw
As self-imposed limits do, measurement moved me
I paddled in, slowly, so as to stretch time, there to be
The loons called across the water while the heron hid
The eagle cleaned his wings, and I smiled like a big kid
I left, wanting freedom for always, to just be
The heron, an eagle, a pair of loons, and me


Can’t wait to get back

This is where they tell me it all began. Beal's Island, Maine

This is where they tell me it all began. Beals Island, Maine. Summer 2011.

We have only been home for 2 1/2 days and I can’t wait to get back up to the Down East. Lord willing, we hope to return for a fourth consecutive year in August 2014.


Four of the six kids with Amaris at lake house in Maine

Four of the six kids with Amaris at lake house in Maine. Summer 2011.

Family picture at Abrams Pond, Summer 2012.

Family picture at Abrams Pond, Summer 2012.

Beals Island. Summer 2013.

Beals Island. Summer 2013.



Beals Island 2013

On our, now annual, vacation to Down East Maine we trekked up to Beals Island. I love this little fishing village where my ancestors came from. The population was down to 508 people as of the 2010 census. Either way, crossing the bridge to the island, looking over the Moosabec Reach Area is beautiful every time. This was just one part of one day spent while we were in Maine for two weeks. We enjoyed our time in Maine as we always do, getting away from the speed and commotion of our everyday lives to a retreat of peace, and an absence of the technologies that pulls at our impulses most every other day of the year. After two weeks, not one of us wanted to come home.

Beals Island 2013

Little bird on a branch

Once the hummingbirds leaves the feeder, they are hard to find. This is the best my zoom could do from about 40 feet away.

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A hummingbird takes a snack break on a branch near the feeder.