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.

December 10, 2015

DOLDRUM DAYS WANDERABOUT

... last week, strolling inside the old hathaway mill ... after this i called john to arrange a little wanderabout ...

... this time of year almost on the 45th parallel the days're rather short, so i'd said to him, "let's leave early so we don't miss any of the light" ... at the old goddard mansion in cape elizabeth i found myself fighting a vision reducing doldrum haze ...

... so, while i envied the fullnes of john's vision, i resorted to an old trick and focused my eyes on little things ...

... in his album john talks of alan davenport's discussion of "sympathetic lines" ... i can't recall if i've ever heard the term, but after looking at john's photograph of the mansion i was stunned to discover that only shortly after he'd taken his picture i found this composition ...

... cape elizabeth light, still called the "two lights" even though the other is now someone's home ... rather "classic," perhaps, but, remember, i was still trying to get my eyes in tune ...

... here, i think, was the moment i began to conquer the doldrums ...

... for sure, a moment later, the process was underway ...

... a reminder, to keep me on path ...

... in downtown portland, again, a centering of sorts ... i love the blue ...

... the simplest of compositions, my vision was returning ...

... i began to notice ...

... humor returned to my eyes ...

... john saw and recorded the event ...
COURTESY JOHN MEADER
... at wharton point in brunswick i was pleased at the memory of the last time in galilee, rhode island, when my brother treated me to great plate of served raw fresh cherrystone clams ...

... of the most demanding physical tasks, but fresh clams're worth it ... (make sure to look at john's pictures to see an example of the "like minds" thing) ...

... doubling point—calm, silent, soft, a place that ever so gently envelopes the doldrums in tranquility ...

... knowing of my rather creaky knees, it was quite nice of john to document my foolishness ...
COURTESY JOHN MEADER
... at the edge of the water ... jesus, i thought, but then i recalled images of shakespeare ... or, perhaps, giovanni da verrazano himself, first european to explore this part of the coast of north america (other, that is, than a few stray vikings) ... here, after a long day fighting the current only to clearly taste that the waters were becoming fresh rather than salt, he ponders the reversal of his ship's course even as he wonders at the antics of the natives along the banks of the river "exhibiting their bare behinds and laughing immoderately" ...

... ever the sailor, his gaze to the sea ...

... odd, how landlubbers forget that these structures mark great danger ...

... a place someday to sit and read a book, or, perhaps, just sit ...

... light fading fast, we parked the car and hiked down the peninsula to visit squirrel point ...

... odd, how my feet had memories of a time when some of the remote places pa would take us to visit in alaska still had boardwalks like these ... concrete sidewalks are progress, i suppose, but they're not near as much fun ...

... darkening skies at three-thirty in the afternoon, overcast, but, still, real photographers celebrate whatever light they're offered ...

... a lot to think about, the juxtaposition of these structures ...

... across the kennebec river, sunset, december 9th, 2015 ...

... robert frost spoke of the ol' "two roads" thing, but, honestly, i'm not sure that the particular path one treads is near as important as making sure to slow one's pace, even stop every now and then, and look to the sides of the trail ...