in the Right Place: Not Seeing the Light

Here’s the Pumpkin Island Lighthouse on Friday. It’s enjoying some sunlight on a cold day, but no longer provides a guiding light to mariners. This beacon was much needed in 1855, when it entered federal service. It was said that the Light then could be seen in good weather with the naked eye from nine nautical miles away.

The Light is just off the northeast tip of Little Deer Isle, near the entrance to Eggemoggin Reach. The Reach is a granite-ledged, island-clogged shortcut from the Penobscot Bay to the Atlantic Ocean. In winter, there can be significant patches of ice jutting from those islands. Some of the best sailing winds in the world are funneled down the Reach. But, on a foul day or dark night, it can be perilous, especially for boats without radar and sonar.

When the Light went into service, there was plenty of traffic in the Reach, but no radar or sonar. Coastal cruisers sailed up and down the coast carrying timber, granite, housing goods, and other commercial cargo; they were the truckers of the time for this area. Pumpkin Island and Light were owned and operated by the federal government until 1933. They were then sold to private owners and have remained in private hands.

Curiously, nobody seems to know why the Island is named Pumpkin; it’s not shaped like one and we’ve found no reports of pumpkin farming there. (Images taken in Little Deer Island, Maine, on December 28, 2024.)

In the Right Place: Mexican Mysteries

Before they wilt, I should credit this year’s crop of poinsettias as being among the best of the holiday flowers that we’ve had over the years. There are traditional red ones, as shown here, and more than 100 other varieties. One of the variegated ones is shown below:

There is some confusion about the plant’s name, Poinsettia. Don’t look for an interesting Latin or Greek origin. It’s just a derivation of Joel Roberts Poinsett’s last name. He was the first United States Minister to Mexico and a botanist during his off hours. In the early 19th Century, he found the plants in their native Mexico and began shipping them to the United States, where nurseries eventually popularized them for the Christmas season.

When the plants first came here, they were called “Mexican flame flowers.” (Their natural, non-manipulated color is deep red.) Giving them Joel’s last name made them intriguingly mysterious. However, there was confusion as to how to pronounce “poinsettia.” Its preferred pronunciation is “POYNE-seh-tee-YAH.” It’s best not to turn that two-syllable “tee-yah” into a one-syllable “tah.” (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on December 28, 2024.)

In the Right Place: The Day After

Above you see “Dear Abbie:” in below-freezing temperatures on the day after Christmas. She’s in deep shadows cast by Harbor Island and has just come in after a scalloping sortie. Her crewman is about to hang over what may be an icy bow and hook her mooring line. Winter fishing is not for the feint of heart or the cold-averse.

As usual, “Dear Abbie:” unhesitatingly hooked up in one approach, which is not nearly as easy as it looks:

(Images taken on December 26, 2024.)

In the Right Place: White on White on White

Here we see white snow with white birches with a white 19th century home – a stunning scene in yesterday’s bright sun. I’m not sure what, if any, architectural style this residence is. But, I’m told by Sharron Ellis, its owner, that it was built in 1899 and has been in her family ever since.

Based on some quick online research and a consultation with my architect and wife, Barbara, we’re thinking that the house may be styled as an American Four Square arts and crafts residence. However, it’s definitely not a 19th Century Sears Four Square kit, according to Sharron.

There’s a visual bonus today: the white house has a “very old” (date unknown) small workshop within the property’s tree line that Sharron also keeps up nicely. It also looks stunning in snow and brightnes:

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on December 26, 2024.)

In the Right Place: Viewer’s Delight

Below you’ll see an image of Monday’s jaw-dropping sunset afterglow, which I didn’t get a chance to download until yesterday. (The color was not enhanced.) Those low-level clouds reflecting that solar radiation appear to be marine stratocumulus clouds doing what they do best over water.

This image belies the old (Biblical) saying “Red sky at night, sailor’s delight; red sky in the morning, sailor’s warning.” This red sky was not indicating an incoming high pressure system that would bring clear skies; it snowed the following day out of a gray sky. (Image taken in Brooklin, Maine, on December 23, 2024.)

From the Right Place

In the Right Place: ‘Twas a Few Nights Before Christmas …

… When all through the town, not a vehicle was stirring – except maybe as usual at the Brooklin General Store. The store opens at 6:30 a.m. and closes at 7 p.m. every day except Monday when it’s closed. Here you see the store at night:

This family-run store can trace its lineage back to an original structure built at that location in 1872. It’s part of a long tradition of general stores (aka country stores) in New England that have served communities since before the Revolutionary war. Here’s the store during a December dusk:

In today’s age of online shopping and speedy truck delivery, the BGS and many general stores have survived by becoming rural convenience stores that open early and close late. (Ours is closed Christmas Day.) They sell a highly-targeted selection of food, beer and wine, and nonfood products, while often providing a café area (which the BGS does). Perhaps most important, they continue to provide something that general stores are famous for – local gossip, news, and views out of the mouths of neighbors.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on December 19 [dusk] and 20, 2024.)

In the Right Place: Little Mysteries

Where do all the little boats go in winter? If they’re lucky, they go to winter boat sheds where they can seemingly share bedtime stories, while the icy wind whips and the wet snowflakes fly.

In some sheds, such as Brooklin Boat Yard’s shown here, the boats seem to share a crowded dormitory of multi-level bunk beds behind a sliding door that makes checking on them easy:

In others, such as the WoodenBoat School’s shed shown below, the boats are given king-size bedding spaces and sealed in for the winter, but they can be viewed through windows:

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

In the Right Place: Transformations

Yesterday’s snowfall was one of those good ones, the kind that changes your perspectives without damaging your property. These snowfalls are roughly akin to repainting your house – removing drab surroundings, which makes cherished things look different in their new environment. Except new snow doesn’t last very long. So, I went out and took these images of some cherished sights that have been transformed temporarily.

First, there are images taken as the fine snow descended in the gray morning:

When the snow stopped, the sun broke through for a while revealing varying states of accumulation and plowing:

Some of our familiar structures took on a stately status in the fresh snow:

Residential front yards were blanketed in snow without suffering any significant damages:

The ice on ponds proved to be good landing zones for the snow; wooded streams shrugged the snow off, and the bright sun at Naskeag Point tried unsuccessfully to melt it in the freezing temperatures:

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on December 21, 2024.)

In the Right Place: A Perfect Storm

It looks like we got about 1.5-2 inches of snow last night. The gentle storm will be good for our continuing moderate drought conditions – it should lie low and softly seep for a while – yet, it’s not plow-needy, which creates hard piling. Besides, we were getting tired of looking at the unchanging winter woods and garden. A little temporary dazzle always is nice.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on December 21, 2024.)

In the Right Place: Serenity Revisited

Above you see a moment in a clear winter’s morning in Conary Cove: The high tide is temporarily forgiving ecological sins by covering them with a translucent veil; patches of icy snow cling to the rockbound shore, adding to the morning’s tingle; migrating blue and pale purple clouds head off together, marking the territory below with their passing reflections.

A wider view of the coast and Blue Hill Bay shows the grand serenity in the moment:

(Images taken in Blue Hill, Maine, on December 16, 2024.)

In the Right Place: Fixer-Upper-Betterers

Today, you’ll see two of Brooklin’s more successful restorations, which are both in the Center Harbor area.

First, you see above Brooklin Boat Yard’s restored pier and its New England-style gear shed being backlit by the sun rising over Eggemoggin Reach. The pier and shed were destroyed in last winter’s violent storms and rebuilt in expanded and sturdier forms this year.

Below, you’ll see the seaward side of what is still called the Odd Fellows Hall, although that organization sold it in the 1990s and it originally contained a general store and a notions store. This French Second Empire [Napoleonic] style building was built in 1896. A massive restoration of it was finished in 2020.

Note the distinctive gabled dormer windows on the top floor. Unseen: There is a large mansard hip roof and store front entrance. Added: The metal fire escape was added to conform to modern safety needs. Missing: The building had an attached four-story clock tower that was removed in the 1950s.

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

In the Right Place: High Spirits

Sometimes an image of an ordinary scene conjures an imaginary magnificence. Here you see the captain and a crew member of “Dear Abbie:” working intensely on mechanical issues that the fishing vessel was having at the beginning of the scallop dragging season this month: 

As I watched, a sunlit bird suddenly appeared and hovered over them, as in depictions of a visitation by a holy spirit. The workers never noticed. But this is the solstice month, a time when significant spiritual events are celebrated. 

On the other hand, this also is a time when a herring gull will do what herring gulls do – fly to occupied, but moored, fishing vessels in the hopes that scallop guts will be thrown overboard.  

Nonetheless, we have a good ending to this story: “Dear Abbie:” was repaired and apparently is having a good scallop season. Those who want to credit the visiting bird are free to do so. (Image taken in Brooklin, Maine, on December 4, 2024.)

In the Right Place: Season’s Greetings

Here’s the old red boat house in Conary Cove that we monitor in all types of weather and poses. In this image, she’s soaking up the sun during yesterday’s cold, but fine, December morn. She’s also enjoying a good high tide and, if you look closely, you’ll see that she’s sporting a holiday wreath to greet passersby. If you can’t see the wreath, take a look at the closer images below:

(Images taken in Blue Hill, Maine, on December 16, 2025.)

In the Right Place: Arboreal Hugging

Above and below you see Brooklin’s Beth Eden Chapel being hugged by the shadows of wintering sugar maple trees. Those trees stood staunchly beside the one-room chapel and meeting place for many years.  

This plain, late Victorian structure was finished in 1900 as a nondenominational chapel. It’s not used much now, but it was once the emotional center of a small rural community of hard-working people. They came to this place to offer prayers of hope; celebrate the joys of christenings and weddings; join in rousing hymn-sings; decide important local issues, and to weep at funerals. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on December 13, 2024.)

In the Right Place: Madmen I Have Known

I thought I was the only crazy person in the neighborhood who would go down to the ice-encrusted and breezy shore during yesterday’s cold (but otherwise beautiful) morning.

Then, as you see be;ow, my neighbor came on the scene! Rowing in Great Cove!! Without even a hat or ear covering!!! When the recorded ambient temperature was 27° (F) with 9-mile-an-hour wind gusts!!!! (I hate to think what the windchill and water temperatures were.)  

But, there may be some rationality here. As some of you may have recognized, this “mad rower” is the famed glacier explorer Paul Mayewski. He may think that 27° is relatively tropical and he probably gets cabin fever if he stays indoors too long. Click on the image to enlarge it. (Image taken in Brooklin, Maine, on December 14, 2024.)

In the Right Place: Rain, Rain Don’t Go Away

Above you see a stream with no name. It flows as a drain from wetlands, down through the woods, into a culvert and under Back Road, and out to Great Cove, where it will sweeten the sea with fresh water. Recent rains and melting snow have engorged it and sped its flow. Compare the above image to the one below, which shows the stream’s calmness during the rainy snow two days before:

And that’s an example of the problem – we’ve had some good precipitation here lately, but the ground is so hard from the ongoing drought and a few freezes that the rain and snow can’t soak into the soil well. They mostly become surface runoff that drains downhill, while the land continues to be stressed, fire danger remains elevated, and there is likely to be an adverse effect on spring growth. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine on December 10 [snow] and 12, 2024.)

In the Right Place: The Other Season

Eat More Scallops! This image of Fishing Vessel “Dear Abbie:” hoisting her scallop “drag” appears with my monthly column in the current Ellsworth American:

Scott Keenan, the boat’s owner and captain, regularly sells some of his catch locally at favorable prices. So does my neighbor, David Tarr. Click on the image to enlarge it. (Image taken in Brooklin, Maine, on December 9, 2024.) To read the column’s interesting facts about Atlantic sea scallops and how they’re harvested, click here: https://www.5backroad.com/montly-column

In the Right Place: In the Mood, Not

The weather gods apparently are not in the holiday mood yet. They seem annoyed and confused, or at least they’re apparently trying hard to make me feel that way. We had hard rain and heavy winds overnight in a storm that didn’t live up to expectations, at least at our house.

The highest wind gust recorded at the Brooklin School was 25 miles per hour. The winds usually are a bit higher at water’s edge. Yet, we had no power outage in the house and, as far as I can see through the windows, no trees blown down. This morning, however, we’re under a Flood Alert until 10 a.m. and I haven’t yet checked for damage at the shore.

The buildup to last night’s storm was more interesting visually:

Yesterday, as you see from the images here, we had steady (sometimes hard) rain accompanied by enveloping fog, with temperatures in the 50s. In the image above, you’re looking through that rain and rolling fog at the melting ice in the WoodenBoat lily pond; note that there are still areas of green grass way up here.

Below, see if you can find the lone, rain-soaked herring gull peering through the incoming fog at Naskeag Harbor, apparently also annoyed, confused, and not yet in the holiday mood:

The “point” at Naskeag Point directed our attention accusingly at the fog:

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on December 11, 2024.)

In the Right Place: Motherly Love, Arboreal Division

As you may know, we monitor this arthritic old apple tree all year. In winter, we like to note how many apples she produces and how long she holds onto them. She’s apparently over 100 years old and extraordinarily tight-fisted. She’s been losing her fruit fast lately due to heavy rains, high winds, some light snow, and occasional freezing temperatures. Yet, as of Monday, she still was clutching five of her beloved progeny.

Of course, the remaining fruit are now in a such a puckered condition that only their mother tree could love them:

I doubt that any self-respecting deer would be tempted to try them. (Images taken on WoodenBoat campus in Brooklin, Maine, on December 9, 2024.)