Articles
When it’s our turn
The mirror of tomorrow reflects the days that will most assuredly come and with it that predictable acceptance of the unpredictable. We are never prepared for its arrival. We wave a hand at the shadows that arrive to blur our sight, try to dismiss and move along a day that is always there to follow any circumstance. Time heals they say, but then again, it also remembers.
Fathers and sons
On my trips home I find myself sometimes driving to some of the spots I worked along side my father. I look to see if the small buildings and deck projects are still there. They are. I also see some of his work on a much grander scale in the brick and mortar of institutions of learning, medicine and recreation, buildings that provide service and in their own unique way support that cadence of life there.
William Prescott — A friend and mentor to many
“I want people to know that I have always cared, have tried to be helpful and always had the best intentions in mind, even when it may not have seemed that way at the time. I have consistently tried to live up to the words of my father, ‘We can disagree without being disagreeable.’”
It’s all about the journey
To touch a point on a map that beckons our arrival, then set foot on that spot to collect what has been there waiting for us to find is what makes life special. To explore is to see life, and most assuredly it is the journey itself that is life.
That sense of wonder
I believe that our sense of wonder is still within us and is always a part of who we are, no matter the circumstance. But we misplace it sometimes because of all the distractions, all of the “noise” that surrounds us.
What does democracy look like?
I think democracy is like an old coat. Over time it becomes worn and frayed; stiches pull, but do not break. It is washed from time to time; gets beat up, thrown down, held up against the sun as we wrangle it across our shoulders. We button it to the very top — keeping out the dark cold, keeping us warm with our thoughts, keeping our empathy for one another safe within — away from the threats looking to intercede. It is a whole made of pieces.
Notes on the Landscape of Home
Time. It is in everything. It holds onto everything and sometimes it folds in on itself allowing a much-needed pause in life. This was my first thought as I closed the book Notes on the Landscape of Home by Susan Hand Shetterly. It is an exceptional collection of essays from a writer undoubtedly grounded in both time and place.
A Countryman’s Journal: Views of Life and Nature from a Maine Coastal Farm
These essays are not a memoir of a person but that of a person’s relationship with a place — a coastal farm tucked between folds of wooded fields and the sea. The words take you there, sit you down on a rock or a stump amidst shadows of sunlight and fog trails and reveal the unfolding life of a farm, the farm Barrette named “Amen Farm.”
Take It Easy – Portland in the 70s & From the Mountains to the Sea
Two books found me. One took me back in time with black-and-white images of a city during a decade I often think about. The other informed me of “what might have been” by showing me in text and color images of what eventually became reality for a river. Both books, separately and together, are about Maine.
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