In the Right Place: Today is MGCT Day!

Maine Governor Janet Mills has proclaimed today as “Maine-Grown Christmas Tree Day” in recognition of the contributions of the state’s Christmas tree and wreath industry. The production and sale of fresh Maine Christmas-related tree products is estimated to create more than $18 million in direct economic impact each year and provide jobs for nearly 800 Maine people.

“No Christmas is complete without a Maine-grown Christmas Tree. As Maine people kick off the holiday season this weekend, I encourage them to support our local family farms for all their Christmas Tree and wreath needs,” Gov. Mills said in a news release.

A list of choose-and-cut farms, wreaths and retail products for sale, and wholesale distributors across the state can be found on the Maine Christmas Tree Association website at www.mainechristmastree.com

The Maine-grown spruce trees shown above are examples of the live trees available in local nurseries to take home and plant as special specimens and perhaps decorate outside yearly.

These spruce and balsam fir trees are examples of some of the young trees that grow wild at the edge of the woods that can be cut by property owners (or those with permission) for Christmas trees:

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on November 24, 2023.)

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In the Right Place: Potentially Puzzling

Here’s an example of November contrasts: A stand of leafless white birch at the edge of a sloping field being invaded by densely-needled young conifers and fruit-laden winterberry, among other growth.

The image probably would make a good jigsaw puzzle. (Image taken in Brooklin, Maine, on November 19, 2023.)

In the Right Place: Remembering Joe Gibbs

Here you see half of yesterday evening’s wonderful celestial see-saw – the sun sinking while the moon is rising – from our peninsular. We’re first looking to the southwest, where the sun’s last gesture is a burnishing afterglow as the islands in Great Cove, Eggemoggin Reach, and West Penobscot Bay darken.

Meanwhile, the moon already seemingly has risen from the Atlantic Ocean over our left shoulder to the southeast and is coming in our direction. It’s a brilliant waxing gibbous moon that’s high enough to still enjoy the sun’s direct light, yet sail through an already-dark sky:

As you may know, the waxing gibbous moon phase is when the moon is in the process of transforming from a half-illuminated moon to a full moon. The word “waxing” means getting larger. The word “gibbous” (pronounced “GIBB-us,” as in Joe Gibbs) is derived from the Latin word for hunch-backed. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on November 20, 2023.)

In the Right Place: Closing-In and Wrapping

November is more than half over and it’s been remarkably mild here. The boats in the WoodenBoat School's boat shed the I monitor have not even been fully closed-in yet

Many of the working boats on the hard have not been shrink-wrapped yet or may not be wrapped this year.

(Images taken in Brooklin and Surry, Maine, on November 15 and 17, 2023.)

In the Right Place: Glad Tidings

Here you see the tide rising on a cute little island in Blue Hill Bay yesterday. At low tide, this island is accessible by foot and a great place for smaller children to play pirates on their own island for a while or study the surrounding tide pools.

There reportedly are over 4600 islands off Maine’s coast as well as a good number in our state’s lakes. There are 15 sea island communities that are inhabited year-round, some of which are accessible only by boat or helicopter. Maine’s largest island, Mount Desert Island, is reached by bridge from the mainland and contains the Town of Bar Harbor and most of Acadia National Park. (Image taken in Blue Hill, Maine, on November 17, 2023.)

In the Right Place: What’s In a Name?

This is one of the more interesting (some would say disgusting) fungi. A colony of them appeared here in the warmth of the first week of November and then disappeared.

Its most common name is Netted Stinkhorn, although it also is called a Wood Witch in some areas. It grows to about three inches and is one of a number of different stinkhorn fungi, all of which are more or less pungent. This one is in the “less” category; but, if you get very close to it and sniff, you’ll get the idea.

The scientific name of this Netted Stinkhorn is Phallus duplicatus, which translates from the Latin into “double penis.” It’s obvious why it would be classified in the family of fungi that look like penises (the Phallale family). Why it would be described as the species with a double penis reportedly has to do with how it uniquely reproduces.

The mushroom’s pitted cap is covered with odiferous gray-green slime that has reproduction spores imbedded therein. The slimy spores stick to insects that are attracted by the smell and they carry off the next generation of the fungus for growth elsewhere. There are indications that small mammals also like the slime and lick it off, which may have happened with this fungus after a few days:

Thanks to David Porter for pointing out the stinkhorn colony and identifying the species. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on November 4 and 6, 2023.)

In the Right Place: ‘Tis No Longer the Season

Most of our fishermen seem to be calling the 2023 lobster season history and bringing ashore their traps for storage.

One senior Captain’s assessment of the season: “It was far from a banner year, but the price was better than last year, which was helpful. It still wasn't a great price, considering the way inflation is going, but a small improvement over last year's price.”

Some boats in the local fleet will be hauled out of the water and stored “on the hard” for the winter. Some will be converted into scallop-fishing vessels. That mollusk season starts in December. The winter scallop fishing vessels will be equipped with a sturdy mast and boom to lower and raise their heavy “drags” (dredges), which are dragged along the sea floor to scoop up the tasty mollusks.

Temporary wooden “shelling huts” also will be built onto many of the vessels’ decks behind their cabins. These shelters help protect crew members from the elements when they shell and sort the scallops. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on November 15, 2023.)

In the Right Place: Still Standing Still

This is one of the local landmarks that I monitor in all seasons and weather conditions, as you may have noticed. Here, a light rain tempers the bold statement in Conary Cove.

Time, as well as the wind, sometimes seems to stand still there. (Image taken in Blue Hill, Maine, on November 4, 2023.)

In the Right Place: Dam It!

The road shown on the right (basically, east) side here is the only access road to the famous WoodenBoat Publications and School campus.

That pond to the west of the road is the WoodenBoat lily pond, which is fed by local streams that flow under the road through a large culvert located just about at that telephone/power pole.

The boats are part of the effort to resolve the latest phase of a recurring problem that at times has caused the road to flood and begin to washout. That problem is beavers. They think that Mother Nature wants the pond-feeder streams to flow over the road, not under it. Until a solution was found last year, the furry engineers kept trying to dam up the culvert with mud and sticks and WB founder Jon Wilson and others had to keep digging it out.

Last year’s solution was to install a Beaver Deceiver™ system on both sides of that culvert. It fences-in the culvert openings and channels the flowing waters through the system’s own flow pipes. This allows the beavers to build dams on the system’s wood and wire housing to their hearts’ content, but the dams never stop the water flow. Here is the apparatus on the east side:

The system worked so well on the east side of the pond that the beavers stopped even visiting that area. HOWEVER, they held a family meeting and decided to go across the pond to its west shore and dam up the outflowing water, causing the pond level to rise to threatening levels.

This summer, Jon and sometimes his wife, Sherry Streeter, boated over to the new beaver construction site and tried various landscaping methods to thwart the eager engineers.  None of the summer solutions worked well and winter would not be a good time to continue the repairs. So, very recently, another Beaver Deceiver™ system was installed over there.

The new system seems to be working, according to Jon. He says that the animals seem totally confused and have decided to spend their time fixing up an old beaver lodge in the pond. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on November 13, 2023.)

In the Right Place: November Woods

The November woods here are in their transition to winter. Now is the time when their mysticality is mostly in the streams of low light that increasingly penetrates the various populations of woody creatures, seemingly searching for something or someone.

For the most part, we have “mixed” woods, a combination of hardwoods (e.g., leafy oak and maple) and softwoods (e.g., needled spruce and balsam fir) with leafy deciduous undergrowth. Now, most of the hardwoods and undergrowth have let their leaves go; I often can see patches of sky when I look up through their sparse crowns. Thus, in many areas, the November woods are brighter than the August woods.

The light can change the “mood” of the woods. If it’s a dark, gray day, the woods can feel somber; if it’s a bright, sunny day, they often feel cheerful to me. When the sharp cold comes (if Climate Warming allows), another dimension will be added to a walk in the woods.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on November 6 and 11, 2023.)

In the Right Place: November Fields

Here you see a recently-mowed field eagerly absorbing November sunlight. The field is still sodden from autumn rains, which means that most of the falling water flows down into the pond and then it spills over into a stream that flows to the sea.

That pond is 14 feet deep at the center and could serve as a fire pond if need be. (This rural area has no fire hydrant system.) But, mostly, the pond is a place for waterfowl, muskrats, frogs, and painted turtles – and sometimes ice skating. 

The double stone wall is a restoration and expansion of one that penned in sheep in days of yore. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on November 6 and 11, 2023.)

In the Right Place: Veterans’ Day

Here’s to a meaningful moment for my fellow military veterans and a nod to those who preceded us.

(Leighton Archive image taken in Arlington National Cemetery, Arlington, Virginia.)

In the Right Place: Cold-Plated Change

This image of a cursing black-capped chickadee is featured in my monthly column in the current print and digital version of the Ellsworth American.

If you want to find out why the Maine state bird is cursing, click here to read the column: https://www.5backroad.com/montly-column

In the Right Place: Good Gags

The various berries that wildlife depend upon for winter survival are especially abundant this year, including native red chokeberries such as these. I think that the large numbers of fruits have more to do with this year’s warmer and wetter weather so far than with the old yarn of a prediction about “the more autumn berries, the more winter flurries.”

Red chokeberry (Aronia arbutifolia) is a shrub in the rose family that is native to eastern and central United States. Its name (“chokeberry”) describes what you’ll probably do if you eat the little, highly-acidic fruit raw. However, those berries reportedly can be used to make delicious jellies and jams. (The berries look like cherries, but this is not chokecherry [Prunus virginiana], which also has very bitter fruit that will make you gag.)

Wildlife don’t gag on these berries. They’re a winter favorite of American robins, bluebirds, and other thrushes; grosbeaks; woodpeckers; blue jays; catbirds; kingbirds; grouse; mice; voles; chipmunks; squirrels; skunks; foxes; white-tailed deer; bear, and moose. The deer reportedly also browse on the shrubs’ branches.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on November 6 and 8, 2023.)

In the Right Place: Ah, Vincent

Yesterday was overcast and gray – until the sun decided that its last act of the day was worthy of an audience. We witnessed a classic battle between the sun’s last light and the clouds’ drifting vapers in our ever-changing vista.

And, we came a smidgeon closer to understanding what poor Vincent Van Gogh could have felt about the sun “en plein air.” (Image taken in Brooklin, Maine, on November 7, 2023.) Click on image to enlarge it.

In the Right Place: Storing Up

Here you see a muskrat taking food to cache it in the rodent’s  burrowed den this weekend. That den is hidden in the bank of our pond with an entrance that apparently is under water. I can’t tell what the reddish-orange food is; it’s not an apple, but may be a root.

Muskrats (Ondatra zibethicus) don’t hibernate. They have dense fur and, during extreme winter conditions, they’ll remain underground in their dens or floating lodges where they’ve stored food. The lodges look like small-scale beaver lodges surrounded by water.

When the pond surface freezes, the muskrats often chew access holes into the ice a good distance from their den or lodge entrance so as not to disclose their home’s location. They cover the holes with vegetation and other organic matter to prevent refreezing. (Image taken in Brooklin, Maine, on November 4, 2023.)

In the Right Place: The Larch Joke

The timid larch trees seemingly hide from tourists among our big spruces and balsam firs all summer. When you look their way from a distance, it looks like you’re seeing all evergreens. Then, at this time of year, the larches seemingly get up the nerve to spring their joke with a dramatic visual “Surprise!”

Their needles quickly become an incandescent greenish yellow, and the trees suddenly stand out brightly among their stolid dark green neighbors. Soon, they’ll drop all of their needles and become bare wood, disappearing from easy view again after they’ve admitted that they’re not evergreens. (They are, however, conifers [cone-seeders] like spruce and fir.)

These magical trees also are known by their Native American names as tamaracks (Algonquin Tribe) or hackmatacks (Abanaki Tribe), both names reportedly meaning in English “wood used for snowshoes.” The wood is hard, durable, and rot-resistant. It also was used by Native Americans for canoe parts and sleds.

Today, larch wood has many uses, especially in boat building and structure-cladding projects. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on November 5, 2023.)

In the Right Place: WTD Status

The local white-tailed deer seem prepared for winter. They appear to have put on a few pounds and their new, double-haired coats seem to be in good shape.

They should do well during the next quarter, if the predictions for a mild winter hold up.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on November 4, 2023.)

In the Right Place: Typicality

Many people have a preconception from the media about what a “Typical Maine Lobster Boat” looks like. In these people’s minds, the coastal lobster fishing vessel seems to run about 22-45 feet long; has a big, sweeping white or black hull, and is powered by a big, inboard diesel engine.

Well, it’s true that many, perhaps most, inland Maine lobster boats fit that description. However, in Maine, you usually don’t have to go far to see something that’s not “typical” for its kind, including a good number of lobster boats. One is shown here.

How many people from the Midwest think of Maine lobster boats that have purple hulls, and that look to be only about 14 feet long, and are powered by long-mounted gas outboard engines? Yet, there are a good number of smaller lobster boats here, and we have no shortage of people who experiment with colors on boats and other things.

Small lobster boats can be perfect for fishermen who need to limit the number of traps they haul, including beginners and recreational license holders. (Images taken in Blue Hill, Maine, on November 1 and 3, 2023.)