There were hula hoops for anyone to try. It seems they live on though they are not popular. These kids were at it. And I got a smile as I shot my photos. No, they smiled after I took the camera from my eye. Missed.
The fair had a border collie demonstration. These are working dogs. They are trained to herd. And they are very good at their job. They are taught to work together to herd sheep according to command. And the dogs are a whole lot better than my spaniel who would be easily distracted. These dogs were totally focused and followed commands accurately and instantly. The sheep went where they were herded.
Who can resist? Cute kid. His parents are into fiber. They have him mingling with the fiber they are hauling. I just love it when parents dress their kids cute. Thanks.
From hoof to finished product – I’ve been exposed to a new hobby. I only have a passing interest. But the photo ops led me to see different sheep and appreciate the natural fiber as it was processed from animal to point of sale. The Common Ground Country Fair is a must stop for crafts including fiber. This encompasses much but mostly it involves wool. But there are many different types of sheep which leads to different textures and softness.
The wool requires processing and spinning before it can be woven. I bet you knew that. I just took it for granted. It does not naturally occur in Technicolor.
And the final finished product – well , the yarn – is a long way from the initial raw locks that are shorn.
This, too, was an evening shot. The blue cast and the soft focus is a contrast to my usual preference for bright sunshine and rich color. Yes a little fog goes a long way. It’s the same time frame as the foggy lighthouses.
More fog – sometimes you just can’t make this stuff up. Fog is special. Most folks aren’t out and about in this weather condition. But this is pretty much the reason for lighthouses, eh?
Different perspective changes the mood. I caught the beam of light. Somehow the angle of the beam is not what I wanted. And I wonder that modern GPS navigation must make it a lot easier than to try to see a lighthouse in dense fog.
It’s known as the Portland bug light or the breakwater light. Fog – and it was evening. I got my money’s worth from the spiffy f2.8 lens. My shots were decent. Clarity was not the goal and the overall softness of the image works. The breakwater is a fair hike. And in near darkness over uneven rocks this was a bit of a challenge. The trip back was the more interesting walk.
This is a stop for tourists. The shack is filled with lobster buoys just waiting for the camera. I have photographed it many times. It looks to me like there are fewer buoys than on previous visits. But I am happy to stop each time. The road has no place to park. Fortunately I have not been there in the summer season. So I just pull off to the road’s shoulder and hike over. Yes, it’s way cool. Thanks for the photo op.
The lighthouse became a special setting. It sort of represents quintessential Maine. The first thought I have of Maine is the sea and the coast and then of the lighthouses I have visited. So when I traveled there with Colleen we visited all the lighthouses I remembered. Of the ones we saw this was the one she thought called to her. There is a certain point of view that most photographers miss. The reflection of the lighthouse in the pool is the special shot of this location. We spent an afternoon just sitting and smelling the “coffee” (actually the sea). In that time I watched a parade of photographers, some with tripods and serious gear, traipse up and down the rocks never looking at the image waiting patiently before them.
I set up this shot. No, I did not use a tripod. And yes, I used Photoshop. I more or less estimated the perspective and distance. I kept the focal length the same. Post production put us both in the image. Hey, it worked.
I have visited the Shaker villages – Canterbury in NH and Sabbathday Lake ME. I think most folks in the USA are familiar with Shakers and their crafts.
“Tis a gift to be simple. Tis a gift to be free.”
So much of what I have run across did not really sink into my consciousness. The Shakers are celibate. So their group has dwindled to only three current members. No new Shakers means that this group will soon be gone and so too will a rich history and heritage. There has been a great deal of historical preservation. But soon it appears as though the Shakers will be lost and culturally extinct.
It’s a fairly famous location. And it has been for sale for a while. It still had a sign when I passed most recently. The house sits in the middle of a footbridge in Boothbay Harbor. It retails for $700k+. I suppose the terms and price are negotiable. You would of course be living in a goldfish bowl. One buyer bemoaned the fact that you could not park and unload your car conveniently. Me? I like walking around in my underwear at home. This would be a real issue here.
It’s a ride down from Boothbay Harbor. There’s a lighthouse and I have had some nice experiences here in the past. We hit it as sunset was in full swing. The first image is 24mm with my spiffy new 24-70mm lens. And the second was wider 18mm with an older 18-35mm lens. As with any high contrast scene the meter and sensor were limited in capability to capture what the eye sees. There are options. But I prefer to keep it simple. There are times that call for a super wide angle. It’s subtle but definite. Your choice but I’d go with the 18mm image.
Boothbay Harbor, autumn, and, sunset a great combination I think. Take your pick. I saw the clouds and the sunset. Then I noticed the cove and the reflection. Some days are just magical. The light was fading fast. I got the images. HDR might have been more dramatic. I’m okay without extra manipulation. My roots are slide film. So the inability to meter the entire scene is not a problem for me. I like the natural feel. It’s funny because Jules always could tell film from digital. I wonder how she’d feel about these images.
2120 foot cable stayed bridge. It is like the Boston Bunker Hill Bridge in that it is single cable. It is rather distinctive. There’s a place by the roadside to get a shot. But the graphic I sought was of the cables on the bridge span. It took two tries. Actually the first time was the better.
The second time through my copilot shot and she was not as good as her first effort. In deference I cannot be sure if I shot the better image. But it’s on my memory card. So in this instance I/we got the shot I sought.
I lived in Maine for several years. I always marveled at the abandoned vehicles in the yards of the natives. Yes, I am ridiculing the habit. Tell me? Why? Are they there for parts, as a monument, some totem of significance or just that the vehicle died and is left to rot. Okay. Sorry. I do not mean to insult. But you folks have some ways that we flatlanders do not understand. Eye sore. Proud?
The bridge to Campobello Island is from Maine to Canada. The island is Canadian while the access is via Lubec, Maine. So you need a passport. Yup. They don’t much check going into Canada. But the Americans are a pain. They stop you and ask whether you are a smuggler. Of course the reason you go is to see the Roosevelt house. FDR summered there. And there is a nice lighthouse.
Now I would not mention smuggling except that my former office manager, no name please, was with me once. We traveled over and stopped by to pick up a six pack of Canadian beer. Coming into the US a very nice border guard asked if we had anything to declare. She quickly answered no. I glanced back at the six pack sticking up from my jacket making a rather obvious bulge from the back seat. As we departed the gate, she turned to me and said, “I’d have drunk that six pack right there rather then pay any duty.” Oh, the life of an amateur smuggler….
I like to see artists at work. It is human curiosity to just be nosy. As I looked over their shoulders I was puzzled. There were three artists at work. It was in the middle of chaos at the Cape Neddick lighthouse. They are not, and I repeat, they are not looking at the light nor the ocean. They were facing the parking lot. So I am puzzled. I guess I might even go so far as to say they are working on imagination or it might as well be a photograph. The middle of a parking lot? I grant that there was a lot of traffic. I don’t get it.
I guess I might best describe this as the center grass of a round about. The cars circle and you get the benefit of all the fumes. Peace and quiet it’s not.
She was hard at work at dusk painting the scene. It is Maine and I suppose it is quintessential. At least there were some boats off in the distance acting as inspiration. The view below is more or less about the view my naked eye had for the rowboats. So detail was not so important. The boats and the place were the inspiration.
Llamas have dental problems I guess I did not notice before. I was editing the shots and I see the problem. He’s not a tiny guy so it would seem that there is no hindrance to growing up big and strong. And I am not aware llamas need sparkling smiles.
I have had a group of friends who have met up for more than a quarter century. That is a long time. We had very disparate view on many things. Political discussion was forbidden in the name of friendship. But some things are unfathomable. For instance, I had no idea Alex bowled. He brought his own ball to one of our gatherings. The things you learn. Hmmm…
And then there was the walk to the breakwater lighthouse in Rockland. We did that walk more than once – just for the fun of it. It was fun I think.
Who they are does not matter as much as the sentiment. I think someone will know them instantly. The image is of deep friendship. Two buddies sharing a moment – not too many moments like these come around. I wish it were not so. And the moment is gone in an instant before you realize it. I just happened to be there this time when the instant was in view.
This was the first time I was here. I have visited many times since. It was as I recall a foggy day as we traveled to Port Clyde to have breakfast with the Tyler Place friends. Bob drove and stopped here while Kevin and Alex waited. I got my shots. We had a grand breakfast. I remember the first.
A Maine institution in Wiscasett. Lisa and I used to laugh over how to pronounce the name of the town. Red’s sits at the bottom of a hill just before a bridge crossing. It is a given that traffic in both directions is moving slowly at any and all hours of the day. There is always a line waiting to order. I have peered at the menu time and time again. I have not been able to see anything special that would induce me to wait interminably. I’m from NYC. No one waits. There are simply too many choices. Red’s remains a landmark and is depicted in many many shots of Maine. This shot was from ten years ago. Not too much has changes – just the faces on the line. A true Maine native agreed with me. She told me that the place across the street if cheaper and faster and better. Fine dining it ain’t.
A long time ago in a galaxy far away…. This is an archived photo of the Tyler Place group back about ten years ago. I daresay a lot has happened in ten years. Grand kids are running all over. Relationships have changed. Well… lots have happened. I am the one in the outrageous Hawaiian shirt. Everyone else has pastel shades and it is actually kind of staid. Ordinarily I am pretty conservative in my wardrobe choices. This was the last time I wore this shirt. It was never seen again. I was told that my stuff was put away and if I did not look for it within a year, it was disappeared. Gee, I miss that shirt.