in her house

          “Vague memories hang about the mind like cobwebs” ~ George Eliot            

drive in

        summer nights we’d pile in the back of dad’s station wagon in our pajamas equipped with blankets, pillows and paper bags full of junk food and fall asleep halfway through the feature            

of a barnacle to a ledge

                          “My attachment to the state is that of a barnacle to a ledge, the pull of the moon to the earth. Maine, because of its singular and profound beauty, is a place of worship without walls. I love it so.” ~ May Davidson            

giving way

          “How long before the eaves gave way to the sky, or the bathroom floor was jack-hammered to bone, while the trees outside were left to redirect the wind? How quickly the den must have become more kitchen and bedrooms lost their privacy. I see the books we’d packed up and moved years ago under a pile of fresh rubble,…

fishing buds

          Joe and his pal are regulars on Comet Pond although they have fished many lakes and ponds across New England this is home for them on this day they greeting me with happy faces as Joe had just caught the biggest trout of the day often the best part of exploring small towns and backroads is the people (and…