Tarmac ribbons criss-crossing the landscape, dusty back roads twisting between the cool shadows of ancient pines, and less traveled pathways connecting present to past, all I wander, seeking, seeing, with my keyboard and camera capturing scenes and stories to share with you.

Now in its fifth year, this venue has become an important part of my life, a place where I can express my thoughts and feelings about the things I see and do, hoping the process brings me a bit closer to friends and family who enjoy sharing my sometimes chaotic and often nonlinear observations and ideas. A journal, I suppose, but one with which I find pleasure in thinking others are alongside me on my journey.

November 18, 2015

AROUND TOWN WANDERABOUT

... i went for a little wanderabout around town ... this little bird was in the window of the jewelry store that's below my apartment ...

... colby college bought the abandoned hains building, and in the beginning of the cleaning process my favorite "main street window ladies" have been removed ... no matter, it seems that over on ticonic street in the window of a used clothing store their kin have taken up the cause ...

... although only the first week of november it appears it's not too early for christmas ...

... next to the library a splash of color ...

... in the window of the pawnshop, playing silently the blues ...

... nothing but geometry ...

... in the south end, even though autumn's ended this little fellow was still holding on to summer ...

... evening light at three o'clock in the afternoon, welcome to the 44th parallel ...

... green and yellow, i stopped to admire ...

... waiting—waiting ...

... from the newly renovated bridge, looking down into the messalonskee stream, my thoughts were of an evening a long time ago when from this very spot a very sad young woman stepped from life ... 

“We can make our minds so like still water that beings gather about us that they may see, it may be, their own images, and so live for a moment with a clearer, perhaps even with a fiercer life because of our quiet.”
W.B.YEATS