postcards from the road
Just 3.5 minutes of spring peepers. Brown bats arc through the air.
Walked back to the pond this evening. It’s a quarter mile away, down at the bottom of the field and through the woods. Still, we can hear them clearly from the back door.
Standing at the water’s edge they are so loud they hurt my ears. It would be hard to talk over them.
Stonington Harbor, Maine
It got dark fast, and chilly for August, and we have hunger. It’s only a mile to Stonington along the shore, past lobster pounds in the protected cove behind Moose Island, past hundreds of lobster boats anchored in the harbor – some new, most well used, some derelict. Houses climb up the hill above the harbor like skyboxes, new businesses in old rambling clapboard buildings line the waterfront.
Shaping and sanding with long board and cabinet scrapers. I prefer scrapers, used on the left side, and the patch in the middle of the sanded side on the right for comparison.
About this this time of year, several years ago.
I remember enjoying this part, though it was a lot of work and seemed to go on forever.