In the Right Place: The Mornings Before and After

Here you see the sporadic snow sprinklings that started yesterday morning before I secluded myself for some serious National Football League pigskin engorgement:

Below you’ll see what they’ve become by this morning, when we know who will be playing in the Super Bowl:

By the way, though the NFL footballs are still often called “pigskins,” they’re reportedly made out of a synthetic rubber bladder and a cow leather casing. However, the earliest form of football was actually made out of inflated pig bladders which were covered in leather. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on January 28 and 29, 2024.)

In the Right Place: The New Brooklin Bridge

The old Brooklyn Bridge in New York City, designed by John A. Roebling and finished by his son Washington Roebling, spans the mighty East River there and is famous for being the first suspension bridge to use steel for its cabling, among other things.

The new Brooklin Bridge in the Town of Brooklin, designed and built by Lance Wyeth, spans a meandering stream that runs into Great Cove and is famous for being the first bridge that could survive the icing, thawing and violently high winds and tides that we have had on our shore:

We kept losing the prior Brooklin Bridge, which was a heavy plank staked down into the ground near the foot of our shore stairs.

Lance, our gracious neighbor and an extraordinary builder, voluntarily created a system that affixed the plank to a long stabilizing board, all of which floats up and down via deeply-driven. capped reinforcement bars that run from within the ground through the wood. So far, it has survived some fairly severe tests. Thanks, Lance. (Image taken in Brooklin, Maine, on January 23, 2024.)

In the Right Place: Acceptable

Here you see a frequent sight at Naskeag Harbor: A fishing vessel being cleaned up after a morning of dragging for scallops, while the first herring gull is arriving to get some scallop “guts” that might be thrown overboard:

Scallop fishermen shuck the abductor muscles out of the mollusks and sort them for sale; the other parts of the animals – the shells and “guts” (stomach, gills, nerves, testicles, ganglia, etc.) – are thrown back into the sea. What retail stores advertise as “scallops” (and what we eat) really are just the muscles that the complex scallops use to open and close their shells.

By the way, when asked this week how the scallop season was going, a senior Captain texted with usual Maine succinctness: “The season has been ok.” I interpret that as not good, not bad, but acceptable for a very specialized, often hard, and sometimes risky occupation. He also stated that the fishermen “have all been hoping that the [scallop per-pound] price would go up a little.” If it does, that might make the season improve in the fishermen’s opinions from okay to good, but not great. (Image taken in Brooklin, Maine, on January 25, 2024.) Click on the image to enlarge it.

In the Right Place: Howling Time

The first full moon of the new year rose fuzzy and burly yesterday over cloudy Mount Desert Island. It was about 258,855 feet from earth at the time.

Once it arose above our murky atmosphere, it became more moon-like:

The January full moon traditionally is known as the Wolf Moon because it arises at the best of time year to hear wolves howl at night, according to the Farmers’ Almanac collection of Native and Colonial American moon names. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on January 25, 2024.)

In the Right Place: Brilliance

Sometimes photographers take an image of a subject and they later find out that the image really is about an originally unseen different subject. For example, yesterday we were in Blue Hill while it was snowing, and I was doing a some snowfall shooting from the parked car. Then, Barbara said, “Did you see that Christmas ball over there?” This red Christmas ornament that you see here was hanging alone in a roadside spruce, perhaps overlooked when the decorations came down:

I hadn’t noticed the ornament, but I took three quick shots of it at different shutter speeds (to make sure I captured some falling flakes) and we drove off without further ado. When we got home and I began to edit the day’s snow images, I discovered the wonderful winter landscape scene that was reflected on the ball – an intriguing image within the intended image:

Sometimes Barbara makes me seem brilliant. (Images taken in Blue Hill, Maine, on January 24, 2024.)

In the Right Place: Turkey Tactics

We see fewer wild turkeys in the winter. They spend more time in the deeper woods looking for food, while also avoiding the visual and windy exposure of our mowed fields. Here in this image you see a small flock (or “rafter”) of wild turkeys that briefly came out of a thick stand of conifers into the sun on Monday.

Note that these birds are all mature males (or “Toms”). Toms often collect together in the winter and then separate and compete with each other when the breeding season starts in the spring. Young males (or “Jakes”) also flock together in the winter. During winter days, you’ll see mature females (or “hens”) eating and traveling with their most recent young (or “poults”), but the youngsters are learning to be more independent and often separate from their moms into nearby trees when roosting at night.

By the way, one of the quickest ways to tell a male from a female wild turkey in the winter is to see whether the feathers on their sides and breasts have crisp black edges that form a scalloping design (male) or brown edges that are not as distinct (female). Males also have horn-like spurs on their lower legs, while it is extremely rare for females to grow them. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on January 22, 2024.)

In the Right Place: Safari Sighting

If you were describing this scene orally in English and knew what you were looking at, you might say something that sounded like this: “Look, there’s a giraffe in snow!”

The tall, small-headed animal called a giraffe is a tree trimmer; so is this contraption. The equipment was produced by a Minnesota-based company that intentionally named itself “Jarraff” [always pronounced “giraffe”] Industries and adopted an image of an African giraffe as its trademark. 

More specifically, the equipment shown here is cataloged as a “Jarraff All-Terrain Tree Trimmer,” but it’s usually just called a “Jarraff” (again: pronounced “giraffe”). As indicated, it’s used to clear tree branches, especially those alongside the road and near power lines.

The telescoping boom on the trimmer can extend to 75 feet on the latest models and has a 180-degree tiltable saw at the end, according to the published specifications. That boom is made of non-conductive fiberglass that can operate along medium voltage power lines without causing power outages. The beast was at rest yesterday at the Naskeag Point parking lot, where it has been parked for some time. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on January 22, 2024.)

In the Right Place: Turbulence

Here you see a gathering of ancient apple trees that seemingly are shuddering in yesterday's sharp cold:

Below, you’ll see an iced-up old Camperdown elm braving the day alone:

Yet, today is predicted to be the beginning of a warming spell in this first month of the new year. After that, the polar vortexes may bring some really crazy weather, according to recent reports, and the ongoing El Niño may decide to do a little freewheeling intervention.

The theme for 2024 appears to be turbulence, which usually isn’t good for older things, whether they grow out of the ground or post photographs. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on January 21, 2024.)

In the Right Place: Insults

This morning, we continue to remain trapped in the week’s Arctic air. As you see, during the cold spell, we’ve gotten some sun to dapple the hard snow, but it’s effect otherwise has been nothing but decorative, not perceptively warming:

Yesterday afternoon, the ice gods apparently decided to add insult to our injury and dump a little snow on us. We and our neighbors hunkered down and waited it out:

By the way, the idiom “to add insult to injury” reportedly came from one of Aesop’s fables as told by the Roman poet Phaedrus in the 1st Century. In the story, a fly bit the head of a bald man who instinctively swatted at the fly, but only whacked himself hard in the head. The fly jeered at the man, saying that his unthinking action had added insult to injury. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on January 18 and 20, 2024.)

In the Right Place: Topsy-Turvy Times

Last year was the warmest year on record and the first two-thirds of January of the new year seem to be trying to make up for all of last year’s warmth. This month’s country-wide temperature is 1.2 degrees below average through mid-month and more than 56 percent of the contiguous United States was covered in snow this week, according to yesterday’s Washington Post. Next week, we’re supposed to have an unseasonable thaw.

Too many things are not as they should be these days. Which brings me to today’s photograph. It’s our Christmas Amaryllis, which failed miserably at its job and turned out to be a mere Martin Luther King Day Amaryllis. Nonetheless, it’s pleasingly poignant to watch a tropical flower bloom in the middle of what may become Maine’s coldest January on record. (Image taken in Brooklin, Maine, on January 18, 2024.)

In the Right Place: Seeing Red

Yesterday was too cold and snow-laden to engage in my favorite pastime of walking through the woods with no particular destination in mind. But I did drive by this well-connected local landmark, which is known as “The Red House” around here.

The place always looks patriotic (or at least historic) when it is sitting in white snow under a blue sky. And, it looks appropriate for cold weather, which is why New Englanders decided to have houses connected to barns and other utilitarian spaces. Of course, you’re more likely to find a car and a truck in the barn today than you are a couple of cows. (Image taken in Brooklin, Maine, on January 18, 2024.)

In the Right Place: Purity Reconsidered

Yesterday was a brilliantly-lit, blue skyed day with fresh snow that seemed to be too pure to tread on, as you see here.

These scenes brought to mind the outdated saying that someone was “as pure as the driven snow.” I thought that the simile was mistaken – that it should be “as pure as the UNdriven snow,” because we all know what happens to snow after vehicles have had their way with the precipitation. But, then I looked up the origin of the saying.

The saying has been used at least since the late 16th Century. It’s actually a comparison to snow that has been carried by the winds and driven into untouched, white drifts. Being “as pure as the driven snow” meant that you were chaste and otherwise unsullied. It often was used to describe young females who were (or who were thought to be) “untainted” by sexual relations. As I said, it’s outdated. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on January 17, 2024.)

In the Right Place: A Gentle Reminder

We had a gentle reminder yesterday that it’s still winter. A fine-flaked snowstorm began yesterday morning and slogged on at a slow pace into the night. We got about two to three inches of new carpeting eventually.

The local lanes took a long time to get white coverings and the bright colors at various places stood out.

At Naskeag Harbor, the visibility through the fine snow was low and the temperature was just at freezing. Yet, it wasn’t too cool to keep our courageous neighbor, Sarah Havener Brown, from taking her daily therapeutic dip in the Harbor waters while her loyal dog, Esme, stood watch.

This morning’s first light, seen below, revealed cold (18° F, wind chill 07°), but peaceful, views. The morning also brought our faithful snow-plower, Jerry Gray.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on January 16 and 17, 2024.)

In the Right Place: Solidifying and Thawing

Here you see one of our bog areas filled with water and melting ice yesterday. The two storm systems that moved up the Eastern Seaboard within the past few days brought the Northeastern coast heavy rain while smothering some of the inland areas with heavy snow.

It has become confusing to our vegetation as the temperatures fluctuate between above-freezing and below-freezing. The solidifying and thawing that we’re experiencing is not good for root systems or for old woods-walkers (such as Yours Truly) who sometimes don’t see clear ice.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on January 15, 2024.)

In the Right Place: Sucking Up

Here you see Naskeag Harbor on the day before the recent rains and high winds came. That day had darkened and become very still, creating the kind of indirest northern light and reflective waters that often are associated with Maine winters.

Thinking of this still, almost eerie  day now made me wonder about the origins of the popular saying about “the calm before the storm.” That saying often is used figuratively to describe a time of peaceful harmony before harmful chaos.

It’s first known metaphorical use reportedly was during the 1600s in the English play “The Dumb Knight”: “[B]ut hush, no words; there is calm before the tempest.” By the 20th Century, the word “storm” was used more often in the metaphor than its older form “tempest” and the word “lull” was sometimes used instead of “calm.”

But the saying, which reportedly originated with sailors, actually has a basis in science. Before many (but not all) storms, especially those at sea, there can be a calming effect on an area. I’m not sure that I fully understand how this happens, but the process apparently involves the physics of warmer, moist air being sucked upward to cool and condense before being transformed into precipitation.  (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on January 9, 2024.)

In the Right Place: Brief Respite

The latest revenge attack by our environment yesterday was brutal and the images of the damage here and elsewhere often are shocking. Perhaps that’s what we need to wake up to what we’re doing. But now, I think that I need a brief respite. Here’s a hint of the possible other side of the story, a soothing mood of the elements that took place Thursday evening:

As the sun set, there was a showing of royal colors over Great Cove and Eggemoggin Reach. (Image taken in Brooklin, Maine, on January 11, 2024.)

In the Right Place: Unhidden Treasures

Here you see one of Brooklin’s treasures earlier this week, still sporting a holiday wreath. It’s the Friend Memorial Public Library, which has expanded and been modernized several times since its founding in 1912. In fact, it recently began a two-year campaign to raise funds to again revitalize and expand the building and grounds, and to assist with long-term operating expenses.

Moreover, the Library recently formalized an agreement with Jon Wilson to acquire his extensive and extraordinary maritime research library. He is the founder and prior owner of two of Brooklin’s other treasures, the famed WoodenBoat School and WoodenBoat Publications.

It’s expected that Jon’s 6,700 books and additional rare documents will be part of a Maritime Research Center available to FMPL users once the Library’s overall expansion is completed sometime in 2026. (Image taken in Brooklin, Maine, on January 8, 2024.)

In the Right Place: Starting Anew

This image of a sea smoke dawn in Naskeag Harbor appears in my monthly column in the current Ellsworth American. 

To read the column about sea smoke and another remarkable thing that happens here in January, click here: https://www.5backroad.com/montly-column

In the Right Place: Warmer, Wetter, and Windier

Climate change has been brutally obvious. Yesterday’s temperature here reached the 50s (F); the day’s wind gusts sometimes exceeded 70 miles per hour, and its torrential rain flooded some low areas. The results were many power outages and high, violent tides.

These forces eroded our coast, ripped rockweed from its granite anchors, and brought that seaweed, dock parts, and other coastal detritus ashore, as you see here in these images of the Town Dock in Naskeag Harbor.

That dock seemed to hold up well; the Brooklin Boat Yard dock in Center Harbor did not fare as well. We’re told that a similar storm should arrive this weekend. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on January 10, 2023.)

In the Right Place: Stick Poking

Vigorous outdoor family enjoyment is alive and well in some places, even on a cold and gray winter’s day, such as yesterday. Pond ice here was thick enough to skate on and even to play ice hockey yesterday, but today’s relatively warm weather and rain may change that.

This pleasing sight made me wonder: Where did this strange game originate and how did the sport (ice “hockey”) and its projectiles (“pucks”) get their unusual names? A little online research provided some possible answers.

The hazy origins of ice hockey apparently began with stick-and-ball games similar to field hockey played on unfrozen ground in the Middle Ages and perhaps even ancient Greece. Variations played in the winter on ice began to appear in Britain in the 17th and 18th Centuries and in Ireland, where a milder form of manipulating an object on ice – hurling – apparently originated.

In the middle of the 19th Century, British soldiers stationed in Canada played the game on ice there and fascinated locals; it was there that it apparently was influenced to become rougher by the Native American sport of lacrosse. It caught on big-time in Canada, where ice hockey and its equipment apparently were developed into what became the game we have today.

The name “hockey” is thought by many to be derived from the French word for a shepherd’s stick, “hoquet.” Shepherds’ sticks often had curved ends to hook sheep or defend against predators. The word “puck” is thought to derive from the Scottish Gaelic “puc” or the Irish “poc,” meaning (among other possibilities) to “poke.” (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on January 9, 2024.)