Maine-Window to the World

“Want to go fly fishing?” “Sure,” I said, even though I ¬had no idea what fly fishing really was! I had seen photos, heard people talk of their big catches, as well as their no catches. But where to go, what to wear, what to bring—I had absolutely no idea. It would be another adventure, and I love adventures. An hour later, Charlie was back upstairs with all the gear I needed: waders (huge waterproof overalls with feet), boots, rods, flies (hooks camouflaged with a variety of feathers, hair, fur, and the like—most made by Charlie in his nifty little fly-fishing workshop).

The next day, as we ate breakfast, Charlie looked across the Sheepscot and said, “Let’s go! The weather is perfect!” Within an hour, we were off. I could feel my excitement building! “I was going fly fishing!”

“Here we are!” said Charlie, as we parked the car in a little turn-off along the St. George River. I had no trouble donning my “new clothes.” The same, however, cannot be said of my casting tries. My first catch was a tree limb, then some wild flowers and a prickly bush, but nary a fish. No matter! I loved standing knee-deep in the river, listening to the gurgling of the water around me, the whir of the line as it arced through the air, and the chirping of birds (it was actually so quiet that I could distinguish the various tweets). Charlie waded out a bit, as you can see here (the photo is like a “Where’s Waldo?”—only here, it’s “Where’s Charlie?”).

Needless to say, I did not venture far. A wedge-shaped patch of land jutting out into the river was perfect for me. Later, as we made our way along the river to a more remote spot, my mind drifted back to 1970 and a whimsical fishing scene in Sicily...…

Enjoy this whirlwind tour of Iceland. The photos were taken In October of 2023.

“Ready to meet Barour, one of our country’s beloved trolls?”

​“Definitely!” I thought. I was in Iceland, on a barren, windswept volcanic plateau, and I was going to meet a troll! Beyond exciting! “There he is!” Arjunnur, our guide, said, as she pointed to a huge lava rock sculpture. “Ooh!” Barour was so different from what I was expecting. Yes, he was huge like our trolls here at the Gardens, but he wasn’t warm or endearing. I had been thinking Barour might be my next blog, but now I was unsure. Adding to my uncertainty was the fact that, if I did chose Barour, I would have to change my modus operandi! I looked again at Barour. Maybe I imagined it, but his mouth seemed to say, “Make an exception! Choose me!” I could not commit, so I put the idea in my “Possibles” folder.

Weeks later, as the winds blew across the Sheepscot River dragging the temps into the 20s, a thought suddenly came to me. My blog parameters were artificial. It was I who had set them, which meant I could change them. So, this blog, instead of using a Maine site as a “window to a place/time beyond our state’s borders,” will do the reverse….

As I looked across Buzzards Bay in late June, the vastness of the open water, with sails catching the wind here and there, led me to thinking of the countless people who had enjoyed the same view over the centuries. As I did so, my mind immediately thought, “Blog!”

This winter’s cold temps and frequent snowstorms have been great for my image company, Ivy Close Images. Those “extra” inside hours gave me time to sort through my photos. One, in particular, caught my attention: Labyrinth in the Woods taken December 2023.