The Maine Grind

It seems that even our trip to Maine will be dogged by the wet weather that has dampened the Northeast all summer. As we traveled East in New York on route 90, we slowly overtook, then remained under, a monster thunderstorm that hammered the Albany area. Rain and hail alternately took turns tearing at the car. Lightning was all around us lashing the ground. Fortunately, by yesterday morning the rain and clouds were dissipated by warm air, and we enjoyed clear, rain-washed skies. When we drew near the coast streamers of fog were carried inland from the ocean by a cooler breeze.

Today is overcast with occassional light rain. However, for those of us "from away," this weather presents a welcome opportunity for silent contemplation. If you are fortunate to find yourself standing quietly in a Maine mist-filled forest without the slightest wind you soon learn it's subtle beauty. Droplets collect on the fanned branches of Balsam firs, and the only sound is of water dripping from the tips to the needle-blanketed earth. By the coast the scent of resin and salt is inescapable. All around, green pine and fir branches lace together, broken by the peeling white of paper birch trunks. Perhaps in time the clouds will shred and roll away under a high wind; rays of sun wax and wane creating a pulsing display of glittering beads. Yet often enlightenment comes with the understanding that eventually the exceptionality of this moment will fade. Chaucer wrote, "Men seyn that ‘over-greet hoomlynesse engendreth dispreisynge’." Familiarity breeds contempt. It's possible that being from away has its own blessings.

Another less contemplative option is to catch up on the latest Ellsworth happenings at the The Maine Grind and enjoy coffee, art, and (eavesdropping on other people's) talk. Currently on display is a great photo by Gifford Ewing titled "High Tide, Bar Island." It's captured on 5x7 AgX film, printed at about 36x48" (huge!) on AgX paper and selenium toned. Gorgeous black and white.