The slow but steady march towards spring continues in Mid-Coast Maine. More and more birds appear every day, their cries and songs filling the cold morning air. The many
mountainous mounds of snow, which were beginning to take over certain streets, have now begun to
recede, and the ice that clung to so many storefronts and rooftops has slowly started to
disappear, leaving large
puddles of slush in it's frosty wake. Signs have been posted on closed summer stores, announcing their opening date in a month's time. The sun seems to shine a little brighter, and the wind feels a little milder on your skin. The temperatures are
beginning to climb into the low 40's, yet they
inevitably retreat back into the teens at night. The sun sets around 6 now, as the afternoon light no longer retreats at 4, like it did in the depths of winter. This is a time of year for optimism, and it was with a great deal of optimism that I took a
leisurely stroll down to the harbor to admire one of the first true signs of Spring in coastal Maine: sailboats. That's right, even in early March, you can find a few lonely yawls sitting in the
frigid water over at Wayfarer Marine. I walked over to the yard, which is still
eerily quiet at this time of year, to inspect a stunning sailboat called the Lone Fox. sixty five feet in length with a
brilliant white hull and navy blue trim, this wooden beauty was hard to miss. This tall, sleek and shapely craft seemed signal more than just another sailboat in Camden Harbor, it screamed out that Spring was indeed on it's way. Soon there would be more sailboats, and warmer winds to
propel them out into the Penobscot Bay. I spent a good 30 minutes shooting the boat, all while admiring it's clean lines and breathtaking fixtures. It really a was a sight to see! As I left to walk to the other end of the dock, My faithful Nikon at the ready, I saw a tall middle aged man with a Wayfarer sweatshirt
approach the boat. I
politely asked him if he was working on it, and he replied that it was in fact, his boat. Slightly taken aback but
pleasantly surprised, I began to rattle off every question I could think of about the boat. Where was it built? For whom was it built? Where does it sail from, and who exactly are you? Thankfully the gentleman was in no apparent rush and
graciously answered each and every one of my questions. His name was Ira and he was from San Fransisco. He had bought the boat a few years back and had moved it down to St. Barth's where it now resides. The boat was built in the 1950's in Scotland for a famous English sailor and
aristocrat who had started a famous 'round the world sailing race. I could tell that this man thought that we was the luckiest boat owner in the world, and judging by his precious purchase, I didn't think he was too far off. At the end of our conversation, I joked that it was a shame that he had to leave and go to the tropics, when he could stay and enjoy the many freezing wonders of Penobscot Bay in early spring. "Believe me," he replied, "if I have my way, this boat will be sailing this coast in the near future. It is really something up here." I smiled after he said that, I obviously agreed with him, but I also love to be reminded from other people how beautiful my town is. I feel so lucky to live where I live, and that is only reinforced when someone who lives in St.
Barth's becomes a little jealous that he can't spend more time here! As we parted ways, the sun began to set over the center of town, and the puffy white clouds of March inched across the top of Mount Battie. The church steeples of Camden glowed in the late afternoon light, and the sound of water lapping against the docks of the marina filled my ears. Much like the residents of other summer tourist towns such as Vineyard Haven, Nantucket, Newport and Bar Harbor must feel, it is truly something to view your town in the soft light of March, when the streets remain quiet and the crowds are nowhere to be found. There is sense of peace that comes with being here at this time of year, and a deeper sense of appreciation for what you have is most certainly felt. I walked home to my loft, gazing out onto the bay as I climbed my hilly street. North Haven sat in the distance, Islesboro to the left, Blue Hill in the distance. The water was colored pink by the setting sun, and the chill of a March night could now be felt. Patience is a virtue, and Spring it's sweet reward.
The slow but steady march towards spring continues in Mid-Coast Maine. More and more birds appear every day, their cries and songs filling the cold morning air. The many mountainous mounds of snow, which were beginning to take over certain streets, have now begun to recede, and the ice that clung to so many storefronts and rooftops has slowly started to disappear, leaving large puddles of slush in it's frosty wake. Signs have been posted on closed summer stores, announcing their opening date in a month's time. The sun seems to shine a little brighter, and the wind feels a little milder on your skin. The temperatures are beginning to climb into the low 40's, yet they inevitably retreat back into the teens at night. The sun sets around 6 now, as the afternoon light no longer retreats at 4, like it did in the depths of winter. This is a time of year for optimism, and it was with a great deal of optimism that I took a leisurely stroll down to the harbor to admire one of the first true signs of Spring in coastal Maine: sailboats. That's right, even in early March, you can find a few lonely yawls sitting in the frigid water over at Wayfarer Marine. I walked over to the yard, which is still eerily quiet at this time of year, to inspect a stunning sailboat called the Lone Fox. sixty five feet in length with a brilliant white hull and navy blue trim, this wooden beauty was hard to miss. This tall, sleek and shapely craft seemed signal more than just another sailboat in Camden Harbor, it screamed out that Spring was indeed on it's way. Soon there would be more sailboats, and warmer winds to propel them out into the Penobscot Bay. I spent a good 30 minutes shooting the boat, all while admiring it's clean lines and breathtaking fixtures. It really a was a sight to see! As I left to walk to the other end of the dock, My faithful Nikon at the ready, I saw a tall middle aged man with a Wayfarer sweatshirt approach the boat. I politely asked him if he was working on it, and he replied that it was in fact, his boat. Slightly taken aback but pleasantly surprised, I began to rattle off every question I could think of about the boat. Where was it built? For whom was it built? Where does it sail from, and who exactly are you? Thankfully the gentleman was in no apparent rush and graciously answered each and every one of my questions. His name was Ira and he was from San Fransisco. He had bought the boat a few years back and had moved it down to St. Barth's where it now resides. The boat was built in the 1950's in Scotland for a famous English sailor and aristocrat who had started a famous 'round the world sailing race. I could tell that this man thought that we was the luckiest boat owner in the world, and judging by his precious purchase, I didn't think he was too far off. At the end of our conversation, I joked that it was a shame that he had to leave and go to the tropics, when he could stay and enjoy the many freezing wonders of Penobscot Bay in early spring. "Believe me," he replied, "if I have my way, this boat will be sailing this coast in the near future. It is really something up here." I smiled after he said that, I obviously agreed with him, but I also love to be reminded from other people how beautiful my town is. I feel so lucky to live where I live, and that is only reinforced when someone who lives in St. Barth's becomes a little jealous that he can't spend more time here! As we parted ways, the sun began to set over the center of town, and the puffy white clouds of March inched across the top of Mount Battie. The church steeples of Camden glowed in the late afternoon light, and the sound of water lapping against the docks of the marina filled my ears. Much like the residents of other summer tourist towns such as Vineyard Haven, Nantucket, Newport and Bar Harbor must feel, it is truly something to view your town in the soft light of March, when the streets remain quiet and the crowds are nowhere to be found. There is sense of peace that comes with being here at this time of year, and a deeper sense of appreciation for what you have is most certainly felt. I walked home to my loft, gazing out onto the bay as I climbed my hilly street. North Haven sat in the distance, Islesboro to the left, Blue Hill in the distance. The water was colored pink by the setting sun, and the chill of a March night could now be felt. Patience is a virtue, and Spring it's sweet reward.
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