I've neglected my own beautiful state on this site in recent months. There was more travel than usual, but also our "open winter" (as many locals call a winter with bare ground) did not fuel my imagination. There were few snow laden pine boughs, vistas of white and cold light through ice. I hasten to add if last winter was not inspiring from a photographer's point of view, it was very much appreciated from a personal perspective!
Spring in Sedgwick, Maine. This and the following photos were taken a few days ago.
In my corner of Maine, gardens, woods and shore are slowly awakening...far behind spring in other locales. Buds are swelling and forsythia is at its peak. There are other flowers too, bluets, dandelions and an occasional periwinkle; small shy blooms hugging the warmed earth. it is still too soon to expose a long slender stem to cold night temperatures and icy wind driven rain. Nevertheless, winter's dull browns are softened by a fresh green filter through the trees and some lawns have had a first mowing. Tightly curled ferns nestle by streams and soon fiddleheads will be on the dinner table.
Forsythia brightens this abandoned and weathered old home with its good honest bones in Brooklin, Maine.
...and this Flickr comment on spring in Maine from
a Mainer living in Alaska.
"Open water?!?!! I am now officially homesick."
With a view of Blue Hill Mountain.
the last five images are all of Blue Hill, Maine.
The month of May is bringing two more gifts, brighter and sweeter than any spring flower.
JCB and her gentleman are beginning a new chapter. Soon, they will be at home in Maine.
The Georgetown crew was little more than a club in the late fifties. Years later an extraordinary coach took a group of young men and turned them into winners. He opened a door to their potential and heart and he did it on a shoestring. They raised money to buy better equipment and rowed...and rowed. I imagine stiff frozen hands grasping oars on many a frigid morning with a thin light casting pale reflections on the Potomac. Blades dip in and out of water while Washington sleeps. Perhaps it was those early morning practices that turned the boys into athletes and poets...at least that's the way I thought of them and still do.
The following photos were submitted to the Crew ~ Cadle Era archive for the reunion by various crew members
1962 Georgetown Varsity Crew, number 1 at the Dad Vail finish line.
1962 crew...rough practice on the Potomac.
Coach Don Cadle.
1964 Olympic Trials.
In the photos below, the fellows are honored in a row-by at the 2012 Dad Vail.
My first glimpse. There's a lump in my throat and tears threaten to fog up my camera's eye piece.
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