... not riding my motorcycle because of an injured shoulder, i've been in a bit of a funk of late ... john offered up a bit of wanderabout medicine ... after picking up essential supplies, hot coffee and hillman's donuts, we headed south towards the harpswell neck and cundy's harbor ...
... i spotted this heron and pulled the car to the side of the road ... john's side of the car had the view, so i said, "you set everything up, then i'll walk as close as i can until i spook him into taking off" ... i managed this shot only seconds before the great bird took to flight ... i've no autofocus long lens so i didn't even attempt a picture after that, but john came up with one of the most spectacular blended sequential images i've ever seen ...
... along the coast i found that my eyes weren't working ... i've learned to not be frustrated when this happens, and amused myself by practicing simple compositions ...
... john explored under the dock ... i stayed out in the sun, knowing that if i ventured amongst the pilings i'd probably get my foot jammed between some rocks and i'd be trapped until the high tide brought an end to my misery ... (final scene: as the crowd of bibbed overall wearing fisherman looked on, "durned flatlanders, they never learn," my last breath bubble would pop to the surface just as the siren of the brunswick rescue squad could be heard in the distance) ...
... back to geometry ...
... we had a great lunch ... my eyes began to work ...
... from baily island, a classic seascape ...
... never do i tire of sharing these beautiful beach roses ...
... stretching along the coast from water's edge to water's edge, an igneous intrusion splitting the metamorphosed sedimentary ocean bottom layers once again brings me to ponder, "does the bishop ussher school of creationism avoid field trips to places such as this" ... if so, how sad, seeing as it's quite possible that g*d devoted millions and millions of years towards getting absolutely perfect the beauty of this wonderful place ...
... we asked, "does this heart rock on the gate have a particular story behind it" ... "no," replied the mistress of the house, "we just like heart rocks" ...
... there are gifts—and then there are gifts ...
... here, in this place where the word "forever" is not an abstraction, even the very worst of funks must be slowly eroded away ...
