Holla Back!

 

Man. Who'd be so foolish as to let themselves get caught up in the Divine Crosshairs?
— F'real.  I'd lose too much by truly bein' down with Christ —

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My

Word

shall

not

return

unto

Me

 void.

 

Isaiah 55:11

 

 Q.

 

When He

 returns:

 You cool?

 Connected?

 

Or

catchin' heat

'cause you

 rejected?

 

 

Holla Back!

 

Yo. Roll it back, G.

© 2017 - TGTS 2.0 / YUBM Ministries - B. Hepburn. All Rights Reserved.

Installed a nice, old-fashioned, wooden screen door today. Wonderful it is to work with wood with one's hands! The installation reminded me much of Dad when he did carpentry around the house and as a child I'd "help" him. [Of course, when I got into my teenage years I wasn't really in the frame of mind to want to help.] Didn't realize it, but he was teaching me stuff I'd be using and doing later on in life, which of course I've been discovering / recovering quite a bit lately. "Too soon old. Too late smart." What a wonderful Dad he was to us! The memories intensified when I went over to the Bargain Barn -- a lumberyard outlet for, and across the street from, the Hancock Lumber Company (on Poland Spring Road in Casco). After pulling two 12-foot pieces for the cabin loft floor and looking for some other pieces, salesman Chris directed me to the back lot of the building where he said I could pick through the "reject" pile of lumber and take whatever I wished ... gratis. Wow. [Working with wood is a lot like working with people, which reminds me of a far-better Carpenter than I, Who seemed to delight in working with "wood" He found in the social "reject" pile.] Found 4 or 5 workable boards for the loft area. A short while later I was about to buy a box of 2 1/2" finishing nails when he said, "Wait a minute. I think I've got these -- loose -- out by the lumber." Sure 'nough, he did. He grabbed about a pound's worth, put 'em in a brown bag ... and didn't charge me for 'em. Double wow. Got the lumber loaded atop the car and headed home.

Heading 'round the bend on Lower Coffee Pond Road, a trio of gold finches flashed and darted in front of the car -- bright yellow bodies flanked by black wings in frantic flapping motion. Got back to 43 LCPR and was surprised to hear, then see, 2 woodpeckers tearing away at the Central Maine Power pole adjacent to the cabin. Don't know if that's a good thing -- nice to get the bugs out, but then there are all those holes left behind. Took some video as they made their rounds (literally) up and down the pole.

The birds I've seen and heard to date in the neighborhood:

gold finches
woodpeckers
blue jays
crows
mourning doves
black-capped chickadees (Maine's state bird)
white-throated sparrows
loons

red-breasted robin

hawks

Sauntered over to my neighbor's property to take a look at how he set up his jet pump and water tank. Both are located a short distance away from his well and a much longer distance from his house. Got some ideas and hope to get started on getting my well water running again.

One thing that's really surprised me is that I expected there would be a lot of bugs around here during the summer -- especially the ubiquitous, huge and notoriously pesky Maine mosquito. There haven't been that many (relatively speaking, of course) and that's been a really pleasant surprise. One bug I've seen a lot of is the dragonfly ... what a fascinating creature! As I was photographing it, this little red number actually blinked both its big eyes a few times -- lids moving from the bottom upwards.

A beautiful day for the 2nd Annual Lobster Bake Event, hosted by the Naples Grange #94 (http://www.naplesgrange.com/). Naples is near Sebago Lake in the lakes region of western Maine. Had a couple of soft-shell lobstahs (a 1 1/4 and a 1 1/2 pounder -- wit' seaweed!), drawn butter, a cahb a' corn, an excellent 3-bean salad, a baked potato (alongside an onion), a hot roll, a slice of watermelon and a large cup of ice tea. Fantastic! Sat under the big tent and listened to some live music and other entertainment and chatted it up with folks around the table and those nearby. A true delight to sit down at the table of a town I've never been to -- sitting there on the village green to share a meal with perfect strangers and jus' get' to know each other in the process.

Learn the fascinating story about granges in Maine with this MPBN video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FEz5Cm0BkUQ

Walked back to the car on the other side of the causeway bridge (it opens to let tall-masted boats through) and stopped in to the bridge operator's "house" to chat things up. His name is Don and he explained how the bridge opens (it turns horizontally instead of going up vertically). He's also an animal control officer for the area (Raymond and Casco), and I had to ask him about there being moose in the area: "of course there ah." He's seen them in Raymond (which is the next town southeast of Casco). So that means there's a possibilty I may spot one someday. I asked Don if I could take his picture and he said "sure," at which point he stood up, turned his back to the camera and dutifully posed with his hands on the bridge mechanism control board. Later on in the conversation he let me take a photo of him facing the camera.

Been trying to identify the birds in the treetops around my cabin: so far I've seen and heard mockingbirds, cardinals, blue jays, chickadees, white-throated sparrows, crows, woodpeckers, mourning doves and finches; and have heard the loons up on Coffee Pond. Occasionally I heard the extremely elusive whippoorwill's quirky trill late into the night. There are a couple of bird sounds (I think they're birds) that are occasionally heard, and they've really got me stumped.

In a lot of ways, Casco, ME reminds me of Russell, NY -- the town where my Dad grew up as a child before tragedy hit the family. But Casco is a lot more vibrant (then again, I'm comparing mid-August southern Maine with early-November upper New York state). Casco bustles with a really nice small-town feel and has all the same quaint components as Russell: the band-stand in the center of town, the country store, the village church, the community center, the small library, shaded streams to fish, etc.

Slow down. Simplify. Savor. Settle in. Share.

But I'm getting "wow"-ed and "double-rainbowed" almost to the point of embarassment. Almost ...

Found out the sister of a good friend from a camp I worked at years ago (Streamside) lives just a few miles from my cabin and so I went to visit the farm she and her husband have. It's perched on a mountainside with an utterly astounding view of Maine's western mountains and I believe that's Mt. Washington in New Hampshire -- way off in the distance.

Got my USPS mail package matters settled with the Post Office today (I put all of the names of my extended family on the list as possible names for receiving mail at 43 LCPR should they need it in the future -- hope they don't mind). Redeemed my plastic bottles for a $.50 coupon at the quaint little AG grocery next door. Bought some deli hamburger, bacon and cheese by the pound. Drove by the Hancock Lumber Co. which reminds me of Dad's Dad's mill along the Grass River. Fascinated with their lumber mill on Route 11 a couple of miles out of town.

Casco has 15 sizeable bodies of water within its borders (lakes and ponds), as well as streams, brooks and a river or two ... or 3!

Last night I went out at 2:45 am to see if there were any meteors from that shower I'd heard about. Was not disappointed: saw 3 nice shooting stars. I also think I caught a faint glimpse of the Northern Lights which are supposed to be quite active with the solar flares of late. While watching the sky outside the cabin, a forlorn-sounding Maine loon (or maybe 2 of them?) sounded out 5 times out near Coffee Pond. "Double-rainbow." Went out the next night (around 3:45 am) and saw 5 shooting stars and heard the loon call once. Beautiful to see so many stars and the Milky Way (thought of Abram / Abraham) and lamented that while in the city, we don't really pay much attention to them. They're hard to see because of the city lights and there are so many other things going on at the horizontal level.

BTW: while I was watching for the stars and Lights, JaMaine pulled open the front door and slinked out, scurrying under under the cabin (which is pretty much just an open space). I quickly got a light and coaxed him back to me and whisked him inside -- but it was a scary 4 or 5 minutes. I'd like to think he's too much of an indoor cat to run away, but don't want to find out. Frankly, I think he was a bit of a scurredy-cat under there. The coolest thing: he goes after the occasional bug that tries to come through the cabin and the hunt is a hoot. Sheer entertainment.

One of my neighbors left some freshly-grown string beans, a zucchini and some reddish greens (beet thinnings) outside my cabin. It was Chip, who I met the day before, from whom I heard some unsettling things about a former resident in the area. Lots of animosity and legal proceedings that went on surrounding that person here in this small, close-knit community. When I got back from my successful hunt for the wild blueberry bushes Chip mentioned, the beans, zucchini and beet thinnings were arranged on a board by my front steps. "Double rainbow ... all the way." Posted a short video on Facebook. Stopped by to thank him and his wife and talked for a good while. As I left, they gave me a fresh-grown tomato. Wow. Walking back to my cabin along the darkened road, I looked up and saw the Big Dipper through the trees towards the west while a half moon adorned the southwest sky.

I looked out the cabin window early on August 17th (3:45 am) and saw the sky flashing. Got out of the sleeping bag and went out into the strangely warm night air. Sitting on the front steps, looking toward the northwest, the sky put on an extraordinary show -- somewhat muted but simultaneously amplified by the fog. Scores of crickets and frogs provided nice ambience, along with an occasional "thunk" from acorns falling in the forest. Mmmmmm ... Maine ...

Attended the Naples Grange #94 Lobster Bake on August 14, 2010:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aixuvMVa9qw

Maine Coast Vacation 2009

It was touch-and-go for a while there (economically and schedule-wise), but I was able to get up to Little Deer Isle, Deer Isle and Mount Desert Island for a week-long vacation with my sailboat, Hummer. Two of my goals in life were realized over the past couple of years: 1) build a sailboat, and then 2) learn how to sail it. Both were fully accomplished back in 2006-07 and since then I've been chompin' at the bit to get back up "Downeast" to continue with my sailing education. Able to do so in grand fashion with some wonderful new friends and amazing weather (for Maine!).

Struck up friendships with the new Southwest Harbor Harbormaster, Dennis Dever, a couple of Southwest Harbor lobstermen (Shawn Clements [we had a few extended convos] and Gene Thurston), a couple of artisan boat builders (master craftsmen Richard Stanley and Tim Goodwin). Also got to take an extended look around inside the iconic Ralph W. Stanley's Wooden Boats Shop in Southwest Harbor. Also met Rob and Linda (a couple who sailed their sloop up from Virginia), who graciously responded to my request for help in learning how to sail. Thanks, R. 'n L. — I am indebted to you both!

Shout-outs also to my neighbor, Bryan Smedley (for helping me get Hummer car-topped for the trip to Maine) Linda (the Little Deer Isle postmaster who caught me up on the helicopter crash in Swain's Cove a few weeks before), the woman working at the Little Deer Isle Information booth (sorry I didn't get your name), college professor and Scenic Flights of Acadia pilot, R.W. Estela (indeed, flying is a lot like sailing -- thanks for expanding my horizons about flying, Cessna engines, the Deer Isle archipelago, Maine lighthouses, etc.), Sue McIsaac at Quietside Campground, Shane (Mount Desert Island High School senior — for helping me get Hummer off the car and into the water, then helping rig her the next day), Jake (for your help in getting Hummer out of the water and onto the car in Manset, 2 anonymous Stonington lobstermen (for your help in getting Hummer out of the water and onto the car), Bob (for helping me rig Hummer and your showing me the ropes -- hope things worked out OK for your boat), David Gardner (the moose antler seller who taught me a lot about moose antler-tology), Frances and the fantastic crew at Quietside Cafe in SWH (always a pleasure and delight!), Anne Tergesen (the Wall Street Journal reporter who patiently answered not a few questions [what a neat job where they'll let you get away from NYC to Southwest Harbor, Maine to write an article]) and Philly neighbors, Jose and Antonio for helping me get Hummer off the car and into my backyard.

Photos are posted at www.yubm.org/2K9_Maine_Photos.htm and http://www.yubm.org/Hummer%202009.htm.

Videos are also posted at www.youtube.com/mainemanayuh.

Had a fantastic, rejuvenating and joyous time in the Lord and am struck with the similarities and parallels between the environs, economics and rural village social dynamics of the Maine coast and those surrounding the Sea of Galilee (a marine environment surrounded by hill country, a Woodworker, fishermen, boats, etc.).

A harbormaster needs an incredible array of skill sets: nautical, managerial, practical (e.g., carpentry, electrical, bookkeeping, accounting), etc. Dennis Dever has been goin' at it in Southwest Harbor for about a year now (taking the job on after Gene Thurston went back to lobstering). Had a few conversations with him throughout the week (the first as I was getting a 2009 dock permit) and Dennis is enjoying it. Working out of an office (housed in a trailer) at the Manset Town Dock he deals with lobstermen, fishermen, truckers and (during the summer in particular) tourists. He oversees a fairly large harbor area with all of its attendant (and numerous!) challenges: moorings, emergencies, maintenance, etc.

Lament for the Maine-less Summer of 2008

Alas, no gas...

With gas prices topping $4+ a gallon during the summer of 2008, my Maine vacation travel plans were scuttled. Like who knows many others, I had to settle for a "staycation" instead of a vacation, deeply disappointed I was unable to camp out on Mt. Desert Island and sail the Maine coast. Nevertheless, there was plenty of delight and contentment to be found in my "wanna-be Maine-like" small backyard, which has become something of a "Downeast" urban oasis, especially in the quiet early morning hours. Early birds announce the day in their variegated ways — from subdued and doleful mourning doves, to the sharp chirpings of a couple of cardinals, and the occasional incredible improvisations of a gaggle of starlings. On some days, when the wind is just right, faint Ivesian church bells Westminster-chimed their way away from some as-yet-unknown Olney area church. An occasional train horn's minor 6th (and sometimes diminished 5th) chords and weighty rumble would remind me from afar of Dad's coming home from work in N.Y.C. on the Pascack Valley Line's 5:55 pm train (one I myself used to ride with him when I worked in Lower Manhattan). [Coming up the huge bank of escalators into the lobby of the World Trade Center's Twin Towers indelibly imprinted in my memory.] Later on, the setting sun's red-orange rays slice their sharded way through the sylvan scene, briefly backlighting the sunflowers' large leaves. Fireflies morse codes lazily along the darkening greenery's edges. May as well be an evening in Maine...

What's in the garden? 3 tomato plants, a small stand of sunflowers, a fledgling blueberry bush (got 7 blueberries from it this year), a nice of day lilies, several hostas, an ivy-covered wall, a large bush, proliferating peppermint plants and a good-sized oak tree -- each variously work their ways upward, outward and/or onward. The extremely sociable Maine Coon cat, JaMaine, waits on the back porch -- which, come to think of it, looks a bit like a dock shed atop 2 pilings. The scene becomes especially delightful when a summer thunderstorm comes through, when you can watch and listen to it through the screen door on the back porch. But alas, Hummer languishes in the basement, and I fear we might never sail the Maine coast again. Hopefully I'll find someone who wants to go sailing on a lake a couple of counties over (many were asked, but there were no takers).

"You hear the call of the sea?"
Indeed, it's hard to ignore.
Lord, teach me how to stay back
when pressed within to explore.

2007 Maine Coast Vacation

Pied Beauty (1877)
Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844-1889)

Glory be to God for dappled things —
For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;
For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;
Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches' wings;
Landscape plotted & pieced — fold, fallow, & plough;
And all trades, their gear & tackle & trim.
All things counter, original, spare, strange;
Whatever is fickle, freckled, (who knows how?)
With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;
He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:
Praise him.

***

"The cure for anything is salt water - sweat, tears, or the sea." - Tagore - Bengali poet and novelist

***

My sister Deb and her husband Jim decided to vacation on Mount Desert Island instead of taking their usual summer trip to Florida. I'm guessing it was a combination of Deb's childhood memories and their son Spencer's accounts from prior trips that won them over. Jim and Deb dropped Spencer off in Philadelphia and traveled on ahead of us, while Spence and I did a walking tour of my neighborhood and prepped for leaving the next day. Packed the car, and got Hummer secured atop the car and left for the Pine Tree State. Encountered some thunderstorms here and there on the trip up (delightful), and when we got to Maine, the rain came down in nor'easter fury. Arrived at Quietside Campground in W. Tremont on MDI late at night -- Jim and Deb having arrived a short while before us -- and we all proceeded to set up camp with 3 tents on 2 adjacent campsites (#30 and #31).

Have to admit: the weather wasn't always the greatest. But all that did was help us to enjoy the subtler elements of the Maine woods on a coastal island. Aside from making her campsite kitchen as homey as could be, Deb went about snapping pictures all around the campground and the places we all visited. You can see many of them posted here.

Jim, Spencer and I cycled over to Seal Harbor and explored the dock area. The sea never fails to fascinate and captivate the imagination.

One of my key goals for the trip was to learn how to sail. We finally were given a nice sunny afternoon and went over to Echo Lake where we put Hummer into the water, rigged her, hoisted the yard 'n mainsail, then (with Jim at the helm) took her around Echo Lake a couple of times. Photos can be found here. Thank you, Jim, for showing me the ropes. Gotta say I was giddy with excitement to get out on the water and be borne along by the wind in a boat that I was able to build. Spencer went out after me and was a much quicker study than I in the art and science of sailing.

All throughout the week, uncertain weather caused us to change our plans to do a lot of sailing. We took a day trip over to Little Deer Isle with bikes and boat in tow, and Deb and I motored Hummer off the southern shore of LDI near Blastow Cove while Jim and Spencer biked down to Stonington of Deer Isle. Deb and I motored out to Scott Island (once the home of author Robert McCloskey and the setting of his book, One Morning in Maine), as well as to Sheep, Eaton and Little Eaton Islands, and got as far east as Weeds Point before going back to the landing near Blastow Cove. During our explorations we came across a large rock formation jutting out of Penobscot Bay and dubbed it, "Deb-Maine-Ayuh." The current was fast and powerful around it that it was a challenge to try to get a picture of Deb atop it. I was also a wee bit concerned about Hummer hitting some submerged rocks all around. Didn't want a shipwreck.

Dad (a k a "Faz" to our in-laws and "Pop-Pop" to the grandkids) popped by the campsite for a brief visit. He came up to visit with some long-time friends who live out in Machias on the eastern-most part of the state of Maine. Dad savored the mornin' cup'a blueberry-flavored coffee which is a fixture on the breakfast menu while camping on Mount Desert Island.

Spencer and I took Hummer out from Bass Harbor, motoring through the fog to Bass Harbor Light (where Jim and Deb were exploring). Deb got some great shots of us in the boat as we explored the coastline of MDI's southernmost tip. We went out to the bell buoy and circled back. I was struck with the wonder and mystery of coastal fog and how it heightens one's sense of hearing. We docked for a brief turn at the dock next to the Swans Island ferry and then went further into Bass Harbor to film a Matrix-like scene. Here's the set-up: from the back of the boat I passed an oar slowly over Spencer's head as he slowly leaned back over the bow to avoid it as we were doing a 360 degree full-throttle "donut spin" (the outboard motor turned hard to the portside). The concept: clever. Its execution: a hoot. The cell-phone memory card: insufficient to the task! Alas. Nevertheless, a mutual memory remains, and perhaps someday we'll get another chance to film that scene.

On yet another day we paid a visit to the Oceanarium on Route 3, a few miles NW of Bar Harbor and saw lobsters of all sizes, colors and even growth stages. The Oceanarium's primary focus is to responsibly conserve the crustaceon, sustaining its viability as part of the fishing industry. One particularly informative display was that of how a lobster trap works:

1. Lobster attracted by bait in "pocket" (A), finds opening in "head" (B) leading into "kitchen" compartment (C).

2. Lobster wanders around kitchen to find way out. Easiest to climb inner head (D) leading into "parlor" (E).

3. Lobster can get out of parlor once in a while but even then usually returns.

We saw a "berried" female (eggs attached to her underside), tiny 3/8" long lobsters swirling in a saltwater holding tank, and others in lobster "condos" (PVC pipe segments)which keep them from going at each other. From there we went to the West Street Cafe in Bar Harbor for their lobster dinner special. A walk through the town's shops for gifts and souvenirs closed out the day.

On one of the last days on the island, Jim and Deb took Hummer out from the Manset Dock into Southwest Harbor. After they returned they took their bikes onto the ferry boat that goes out to the Cranberry Islands and went to Islesford. Meanwhile, Spencer and I tokk Hummer out around Greening Island to the south shore of Sutton Island. Deb (his Mom) was able to take a great photo of us under full sail as we sailed west back to SWH. After returning to the dock, I took Hummer out for a solo run past the southern tip of Greening Island, traveling about a mile. Going out with the wind was easy, but then it died down and I had to apply "spruce breeze" to get back to the dock. Not a problem, as the PassageMaker Dinghy glides and tracks well while rowing. As I listened to the sound of the bronze oarlocks turning in the sockets and the water gently lapping against the hull beneath, I was really glad I had installed the oak oarlock risers the year before.

Jim, Deb and Spencer left a couple of days before me, and I spent my last full day on the Maine coast on Deer Isle, visiting the Haskell cabin where we stayed as a family when I was a young teen, as well as the Pilgrim's Inn, where my brother Ed and I stayed years ago as a Christmas gift from our parents. Also stopped in to see Ken and his wife Martha, whom I had met last year while looking for a public boat launch site.

Made a campfire on the last night at Quietside, and later listened to live flute and guitar music wafting from the adjoining #31 campsite.

My last morning on the Maine coast started off with the usual classic "Downeast Maine Woods M.D.I. Breakfast" of fresh-picked wild Maine blueberries scrambled eggs, grits, bacon and toast, washed down with a hot mug of blueberry-flavored coffee. Not far from where I was sitting, a red squirrel neighbor took his breakfast as well -- seated in a nearby balsam tree.

On the way through Southwest Harbor I stopped in to say goodbye to Ralph and Frances Reed, owners & proprietors of the Quietside Cafe & Ice Cream Shop (where we ate several times during the week). Drove straight through to Philly.