Sea Salad, Hold the Salt

Morning Rocks

Traps & Buoys

Bottles

Union Trust

One of two fabulous stain glass structures I found on my travels to Maine. Beautiful and functional, and unique. This is actually part of a bank's clock that is larger than me.

Rocky Shore Lighthouse

Photography at times, like life, is about taking risks. That doesn’t mean being reckless -- depending on the situation, one should exercise caution and good judgment. Still, have confidence in yourself. Believe that you can overcome the obstacle, the fear, the challenge. Draw on your strengths, be the person you want to be -- don’t just dream…. Achieve! Think of those who inspire you. Perhaps through your triumph and leading by example, you will inspire others.

Spring Time

Nestled in Acadia a few miles south of Bar Harbor is the Sieur de Monts Spring. From there the “Wild Gardens” are a short walk. I found the location to be filled with wildlife, small water dwelling creatures, and flora. Peaceful, relaxing, and most enjoyable.

Off the Beaten Path

I work at carrying my camera with me. One might not think of interesting subject matter presenting itself on the routine daily trek to work each day, and for me that theory holds true 99% of the time. However, when that 1% crops up…and I don’t have my camera, I am disappointed in myself. There was a day a few months back where on my walk into work in the morning a white egret stood in the water not 30 feet away from the Walnut Street Bridge I cross on foot; then in the evening in that same spot a blue heron. That is two separate shots I missed in one day. Another thought to keep in mind -- one I knew, but an actuality reinforced the last few days -- is that natural lighting conditions rarely present themselves in the same manner with any regularity. In general terms with regard to bright and sunny, perhaps. But with regard to specific subject material in a given location, taking into account all surrounding conditions, not so much. Yesterday, I tried to recreate the shots of the mums out front of my house, with little success. The quality of light was inconsistent, fluctuating moment to moment with the rolling clouds. Also, the rain -- even though relatively light -- the night before weathered, damaged, and displaced positioning of the mums. Even if the light had cooperated, the flowers themselves had lost integrity. I can try again next year. The point is do not give up. The image above is from an antique shop back a side street in Bangor, Maine.

Splash of Orange

A bit of color to spruce up that damp New England rock that overcast morning. As a child I spent many an hour beachcombing, searching for and collecting shells with my parents, my sister, and my Grandmother. The Florida shores of sand were quite different than the rocky ones I found in Acadia National Park. Still, thinking back on those outings, the experiences each have their own charm and hold fond memories.

Oars in Autumn

The yellow wood siding with its small shadow lines makes a good backdrop for the worn oars’ multi-colored remains. Beat, broken, patched up, jerry-rigged, and algae covered. New England comes to mind: thoughts of boats leisurely rowing across small lakes or fishing trawlers returning to port. Jacket weather.

Life of the Party

On my slow morning trek across the sand bar to Bar Island, I came across this fellow. I was ecstatic! This was the first live starfish I ever encountered. It was the size of my hand and rested in very shallow water as the tide continued to go out. I snapped some photos and just knelt there, admiring its beauty with wonder. I didn’t want to disturb the starfish or do anything to jeopardize its well-being. In retrospect, I should have scooped him up and walked him out ten feet in the water and lay him down there, away from prying eyes and curious fingers. What disappointed me was the mother that picked up the starfish and gave it to her three year old to run around and play with like it was a toy. “But he wants it” was the response I got when I politely tried to ask in a diplomatic manner that she help return the creature to the water. This wasn’t a pebble, it wasn’t a shell -- this was a living creature and the adult found nothing wrong with letting her child treat it like a fifty cent disposable plastic toy. Some people have no respect for nature or the world around them -- and that makes me sad.