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 seventh 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.

Comments, thoughts, or just a friendly chat, use the response box below or email me at patrickgroleau@gmail.com.

August 22, 2013

THE ACCIDENT, REDUX


... notice that even with two grown men pushing, when roger gets on the motorcycle the wind begins to move it backwards down the mountain ...

ANOTHER MOXIE MOMENT


... there're some who chastise  "you're crazy for riding a motorcycle at your age" ... well, doing this to my ol' knees isn't exactly smart, either ...


BENEATH THE BRIDGE, A NYMPH

... just to be clear, i did a bit of research and it is quite obvious that my choice of vocabulary is perfectly appropriate ...



... every year just about this time my dear friend, alison, takes me on what we've decided qualifies as a "tradition," our annual outing to the wire bridge in north new portland ...


... along for the fun, of course, are "the girls," kaylee and bella ... forever fresh, the memories of my own little girls spending hours in the river constructing rock dams and chasing minnows makes the little beach all that more special a place ...


... as with liz and adrien, with kaylee and bella i get to take lots of pictures ... for sure, i've no specific memory of either of my daughters moving in close to lick cheez-it crumbs off my chin, but i wouldn't be surprised if one of them remembers doing so ...


... on the slippery boulders courage is the order of the day ...


... under the noon-day sun of a hot summer day, as was this afternoon, the girls do love the coolness of the water ...


... in the middle of the cheerfully gurgling steam, these great pals take a moment to share quiet respite ...


... my rotator cuff now in much better shape than it was after the tearing it took this spring, i swim and swim and swim until once again my orthopedist's voice echoes in my ears, "it's going to take a long, long time, patrick, be patient" ... yea, right, as if that's ever been my strong suite ...


... okay, to be completely fair, i'll admit that i kept yelling from the river bank, "spin your head ... c'mon, one more time ... okay ... okay, now spin it again" ... what can i say, that hair, that smile, no real photographer could resist ...


... leave your watch and cell phone at home, or, if that's just too much to ask, then lock them in the car ... take a book, a blanket, your river shoes, and a picnic lunch ... sit beneath the bridge, relax, let go ... don't worry, i promise, you'll know when you should leave—and when you must ...

... after i got back to waterville i did a couple of errands, then jumped in my car and went out to the lake to finish the day by sharing a sunset swim and supper with chuck, anne, and joyce ...