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 sixth 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.

June 12, 2014

PA

... maybe 1959, alaska ... pa once told me that while fist fighting his nose had been broken several times ... when i was little i so wanted to grow up and have mine look just like his ... alas, whenever i would get punched mine would just flatten more ... 

... there was no smile quite like his, it made the world right ...

... still, i miss him ...

PEMAQUID

... i met up with eric in brunswick and together we wandered down to pemaquid for a little visit with the sea ...

... it was a beautiful day for motorcycling, made even more so by the fact that it was equally enjoyable to walk slowly across the hundreds of millions of years of compressed and folded layers of metamorphic rock that make up the point ... note:  if bristol, maine, collected a dime for every photograph of the lighthouse that was taken from the "reflecting puddle" the town would probably never again have to collect taxes from the residents ... there are photographers who come from the far corners of the earth to set up their tripods on this spot ... (i'm so lucky) ...

... same spot, same eyes, same lens, different vision ...

... odd, how long ago before pressing the shutter button i would so very patiently wait for all the people to disappear from the scene ... now, it seems, i find pemaquid needs us as much as we do it ...

... in michener's "centennial" lame beaver is consoled by his uncle, "only the rocks live forever ... only the rocks live forever" ... pemaquid point is a place to let go of time and remember this ...

... i hope all of you reading this sometime take a little wanderabout of your own down to pemaquid point ... even if i'm not there, i will meet you ...