Spring Snow

Loon in a snowstorm on Belgrade Stream

An intense spring snow storm provided the perfect and rare opportunity to photograph loon in full plumage. Loon migrate to the open ocean water during the winter. Their winter plumage is bland. Prior to migrating back to their spring nesting grounds, Loon molt their distinctive spotted black and white feathers. It is rare be able to photograph them in their nesting plumage in the snow. During the April snowstorm, I heard the distinctive loon call. I grabbed my telephoto lens and my “Nubrella”. The Nubrella kept me and (more importantly) my camera and lens dry during the vigorous snowfall, resulting in this photograph.

Stay Negative. Musings during a pandemic.

I grew up with the awareness that pandemics exist and can kill. My grandmother lost her brother to the Spanish flu in 1918. Even though a pandemic touched my family, the threat seemed distant and remote. That was then, not now, when we have so much more scientific knowledge, a better understanding of how viruses spread and means of communication. We are now in the midst of the Coronavirus pandemic. It has changed our lives in ways never imaged before.

Mother and daughter walk hand in hand into Vaughan Woods, Hallowell, Maine

I ventured out on a photo field trip of sorts to seek out evidence of how the pandemic was impacting day to day life in central Maine. While I did see closed churches, stores, and playgrounds, I saw so much more. I saw expressions of appreciation and gratitude, I saw parents with their children having picnics, usually a rarity on a Thursday afternoon.  There was also a mother and daughter sweetly walking hand in hand, while another mother watched her son and his friend play in a brook. And, there was the local soup kitchen handing out bags of food.

Life will resume to so-called normal.  Have we changed? It’s too soon to tell. But for now, I am savoring the solitude, brief connections with friends and an open schedule as I seek to stay negative and to stay positive. Be well.

Spreading cheer, not germs in Augusta, Maine

A volunteer at the local soup kitchen providing bags of food to those in need.

A family enjoys a picnic on a spring day in Capital Park, Augusta, Maine

Signs were posted at the entrance of MaineGeneral Medical Center to thanks medical and nurse staff.

Rockland Breakwater

Most sane people hunker down indoors during a storm. For photographers, it’s another story. When it comes to bad weather, photographers remind me of the scene in Forest Gump when “Lieutenant Dan” hoisted atop a mast, shouts defiantly with joy into the wind. Bring it on!  I’m a bit more measured than that. But as a photographer I know that the worst weather is the best time to photograph. 

This photograph at the Rockland Breakwater was taken in heavy wind and rain in the afternoon. I originally went to the Breakwater in the morning without checking the tide but still hoping to get a dramatic shot due to the high winds. There wasn’t the drama I wanted so I knew I needed to head back out at noon during high tide. I used my early morning foray for test shots and to discern whether I had the right camera and protective gear.

The high tide and wind hours later did not disappoint. In fact, the rain and the force of the wind were more intense.  It didn’t matter what I was wearing; I got instantly soaked and chilled.  In the moment, I was more concerned about keeping my camera and lens dry, but this was nearly impossible. 

With my 400mm lens and camera attached to a tripod I clung to the narrow path as I walked out to the breakwater.  I had no intention of going on it as I would’ve instantly been swept away.

I position myself to capture the waves hitting the breakwater rocks and the lighthouse in the distance, which was intermittently being obscured by fog. Then I concentrated on the rhythm of the waves. Crash, click, crash, click, crash, click.  I think I got it.  Warmed by the adventure I hurried back to my car.

All and all it was a beautiful day.