When it comes to being thankful I would be amiss if I didn’t mention Walter. He’s not exactly a new friend, he’s the young man I’ve talked with before while watching the sunrise at Aripeka. But now we’ve exchanged names and phone numbers, and that’s because he has had a recent encounter with One-Foot Fred. And he even took a picture! Be still my heart! I had mentioned Fred to him since he gets to a lot more sunrises in Aripeka than I do. I told him that Fred used to be on the bridge with me every time I was there, but then he disappeared. I don’t think I’d seen him for a year, but that includes time I wasn’t even in Florida. So I asked Walter if he’d ever seen Fred and he hadn’t, but I did tell him that I’ve been told by several fishermen that Fred still comes around now and then. So the minute Walter noticed that the heron he was watching only had one foot he knew it was Fred. I had only watched him as he posed for me on the bridge, but Walter watched him fishing. Fred would use his stub to take a step but would have to catch himself and balance as he landed on his other foot. Walter was impressed with his obvious adaptation to his new reality. Walter also mentioned that it’s probably lucky that herons stand in the shallow water and wait for lunch to come to them. He was pretty impressed with old Fred. I’m so happy to hear this news and know that Fred is okay, and so happy to have a picture also. Thanks Walter!
A photographer friend announced that she was going to the Dunedin Causeway for the sunrise on Tuesday. Not wanting to miss an opportunity to shoot with her I, of course, tagged along. And I wasn’t the only one. New friends and old friends also were there. And we were lucky enough to be invited back to the beautiful home of one of the group, for a truly delicious omlet breakfast. Mimosas may have been enjoyed also. What a treat! The shoot, and the wonderful breakfast visit with friends.
I have a new facebook friend named Phil. He is a friend of a friend, and he is who we called upon when I needed to refill the propane canister on the pop up. The canister was stuck, I couldn’t get the screw loose (no comments here please), and even when I got the wing nut off, the screw and the metal strap that holds the tank in place seemed to be cemented to the tank. Phil is an old hand at a lot of things, and he strolled up the driveway holding the biggest set of channel locks that I’d ever seen. He paid no attention to the screw, and when I pointed out what I thought the problem was he said no, the screw was welded on there. He went for the metal strap that held the tank, and had it liberated in no time flat. And then he bent the strap so that it would be easy to strap the tank back on after I had it refilled. I so appreciate the help, but at the same time I hate when I’m left standing there with a screwdriver in my hand, feeling stupid for thinking it was the tool for the job.
Well, I heard from Phil the other day, he asked if some of my pictures from the Fisherman’s co-op that I posted were taken in Wells, Maine. He said there is a marina there, and a very nice restaurant also. So on my way home from Nubble I realized I was passing through Wells, ME and saw a sign for the Fisherman’s Catch, and hung a right to check it out. Had a nice lunch at that restaurant, sitting with a German couple who were delighted to hear about my granddaughter enjoying her life in Munich. Nice company, but the lunch couldn’t compare to Red’s Eats. But I continued down the road and that’s when I found the marina, and the restaurant I think Phil meant, and wished I’d gone further down the road before I ate. But thanks Phil, for fixing the tank, and for the heads up about the Wells Marina. What started out as a not-very-promising day just kept getting better!
There have been so many painters out and about on this trip. In Boston, but more so in Maine. Guess I’m not the only one enamored with this rocky coastline. And I stopped at a quilt shop that I happened to pass the other day and picked up a panel of fabric with pictures of that coastline. I’ll have fun with that when I get home. And I will, get home I mean, eventually…
It was my last day at the campground in Boothbay and I was determined to see as many more lighthouses as I could manage by car. I had missed the lighthouse cruise the week before and the next was one scheduled for the day after I left. So I set my sights on Southport. Have you ever looked at the coast of Maine on a map? Another camper told me that he had just seen a map on the wall of a friend’s house, and that he had grown up in New England, but he also had never realized that the coastline of Maine is made up of lots of little islands, and/or peninsulas. I thanked him because I thought I was the only one who had been in the dark on the subject.
You enter Southport by crossing a bridge, which I did, and then parked to go back to the bridge for pictures. I rushed when I saw that the ‘drawbridge’ had actually swung open to let a little boat pass through. And three sailboats were lined up to go through in the opposite direction. The keeper said that during the summer the bridge operates on a schedule. on the hour and the half hour. He was very friendly and said that any place I saw a town pier or beach I could go and park for pictures, and off I went.
I spent a lot of time debating what to do when I found Hendricks Head lighthouse. The view from the beach was a bit obscured, and the only option for a possible better view was to climb a rocky mound on the beach. It didn’t look too intimidating from a distance, but up close it was slippery and with no good foot or hand holds. While I debated I told my entire life history to a woman on the beach, Ginny, and met her husband Dave, such nice people. She said that it was an easy climb, but then she wasn’t climbing it either. So it wasn’t so much that I chickened-out, but I said to myself that I’m having too much fun, and I have too far to go yet, to risk a trip-ending injury and/or wrecking the camera. I feel like I’ve been in touch with my five-year-old self recently, but now and then the adult in me needs to step in and lay down the law.
I moved on to a dock and got out the big lens and tripod, but it seems like every photo I used was from the 18-400 new lens. And I’ve wracked my brain looking at the maps to figure out which lighthouses I did see. I think it’s Burnt Island Light closer in, and Cuckold’s Light Station way out in the distance. No mention in the book on how that one got it’s name.Finally, one from the big lens, guess I’ll keep it! I apologize if I’ve gotten the lighthouses wrong. My mind is boggled, it stopped raining, and all I want to do is head out someplace. Never know where until I get there!
What a novelty it was to be chauffeur driven to THE sight to see if you see nothing else in Portland. Great company, nice lunch, and now I’ve seen it, and taken pictures too! The Portland Head Light. And more! What a nice day, even if the sky was darkening as the day progressed. Thank you Joan and Jude!
The Portland Head Light was so impressive that I began taking pictures from the parking lot!
Also guarding the harbor we have the Portland Breakwater Light, affectionately called Bug Light. Bug light is segmented, which means that if you are in the correct shipping channel you will see a white light, but if you are seeing a red light then you are in danger of going aground.
And we also have Bug Light’s twin sister, the Spring Point Ledge Light…
And off in the distance in these shots you see Ram’s Head Ledge Light. You may also have noticed why I love the 18 to 400mm lens. Both of these shots were taken with that lens, hand held. And with an extra challenge because I figured out later on that I had the lens stabilization turned off. I was stuggling, now I know why. Duh.
Portland. I’ll be back…
Oh, did I forget bugs? There is an exquisite Children’s garden too!
I walked down to the river at Shore Hills a couple of times, looking for the sunset and found it.
And now I’m at Wild Duck campgrounds, which is only a mile from the Scarborough Marsh Audubon site. Which may explain this as the scenery I found as I explored the park.There are quite a few egrets out there in the marsh, but even my biggest lens wouldn’t have caught them. Not well enough anyhow. This one, however, was in the little pond just inside the entrance, and I took a million pictures of him as he hunted. Take my word for it, he has a little flat fish in his mouth, it just doesn’t show against that background.
And red dragonflies are a different variety to me. I should look them up. I should do a lot of things.
Last night I dutifully locked the car, using the key fob from inside the camper. This morning I realized that I had left the front car windows open. Almost as soon as I got here I was surprised to hear the sound that the acorns make as they drop on the roof of the camper. They sound like they will leave dents in the roof of the car parked beside me. But when I got into the car just now to close it up I was surprised to find an acorn in the red baseball cap that was laying on the console. How the heck did that happen???
Yes, campers are a fun group. While I always thought I’d love to do this I never really had an inkling of what the reality of it would be. I love it. It suits me. And I could so very easily have talked myself out of doing it at all. I’m so glad I didn’t…