UGONANY #AtoZChallenge

Notes about this challenge:
The A to Z Challenge is to write to the letters of the alphabet in order, one a day each day in April, except on Sundays.
To find more A to Z Challenge blog posts, click on any A to Z Challenge link I've made in this post. Read through the comment links on that page and see what interests you.  Read.  Comment. Spread the love of our alphabet around!
If you are commenting here, please include your post's link so that I can return the visit easily.  I'd like to visit your site, if you don't mind! If you want to see where I've visited, click on A to Z Challenge in the tab at the top and it will take you to a padlet of links.  If you want to see yours there, visit me.  If you are doing the A to Z Challenge, I'll visit you and link you. 
  PS:  If I don't get to your site today or this week, for a visit, my post today explains WHY!
It is also Tuesday's Slice of Life at Two Writing Teachers where there are more links to snippets of life from teachers.

You Go Nannie!

We are moving this week:

madly dusting,

quietly fussing,

silently cussing;

Decluttering

while recluttering,

sputtering

 muttering

puttering;

Wrapping up my life,

taking pieces of it and

giving it away

to other lives -

We don’t need mugs for

every day of the year;

We don’t need towels for

every possible extremity

or calamity,

We don’t need ten chairs

in our kitchen of two bodies.

We will bring

just what we need

and nothing more,

Except maybe my mandolin

that sits by the door

that I still can’t play.

But maybe

in this new place

its mellow tones will grace

that shore.

by Donna JT Smith

I had this plate, too.  It has the same message.










 

By Sunday night, we should be in Friendship.  We have spend the past 18 years in Georgetown.  When we first got here it was an adventure living out on an island just a few miles from the beach.  Every night coming home from school, I crossed over three bridges to get to our island home we had built.  I got to see what vacationers see when they come:  the beauty in the rock ledges, the tall white pines, the rivers, the sandy beaches.  I got to see what the vacationers don't see: the inside of the little school, the town transfer station, the wildness of the beach in winter, the grounded lobster boats wintering on shore, the lobstermen repairing traps and painting buoys, the April day of the osprey couple's return from Jamaica, the departure of the osprey in fall.
When we first moved here there was a family of moose we might encounter at night as they strolled along the edge of our dark (no streetlights) road, browsing on the young birch and other wonderful greens.  Sometimes one would look in our big picture window to see what we were doing.
There were terrible mosquitoes, wasps and ticks, too.  But over the years, all these creatures seem to have disappeared for the most part.  No more moose stroll through, and the biting insect population seems to have gone down.
We had no squirrels for many years, but for the past five years there have been a couple of gray squirrels, a couple of reds (one with a partial tail), and some ground squirrels that have all helped tear up the blue tarp that covered our old lawn tractor to use the lining for their nests.
The deer and turkeys are plentiful and entertain us as they pass through, finding things to eat.  It is a safe spot for them, and they don't mind too much the barking of the dog.  The owls that visit us sit still and watch our comings and goings.  Once when my grandchildren were here, a pair of them sat in a tree branch over our driveway.
We had a grouse who came to visit and stay for a season.  He'd appear each time we came out of the house to follow us around the yard, tug on our pant legs and chase the car down the driveway each time we left the house. 

We said good-bye to our church family on Sunday, though we will be there off and on for special days or when family visits there.  But the church is over two hours away from us now.  We began going when my father died and my mother had no way to get there.  We drove her every Sunday from 2001 to 2003.  And when she died, we kept on going - over an hour's drive each way every Sunday.

I will miss all of this.  I won't be sitting by the same window as I type my blog, create my poems, paint my world.  My drive will still have the ocean, but not the same look.  I'll still have a chair by a window, but there will be no deer, turkeys or owls.  Seagulls will replace the owls.  I don't know what new moments we will make in our new home, but I'm sure they will be ones we could never have dreamed of.  It will be good, too.  Just different.

We bought this new house five and a half years ago. We've been slowly having work done on this "House with the Wrinkled Wall".  It is almost finished becoming a house that can become our home.

Retirement.
It has fully set in.

U - Go - Nannie.
You go.

What will be next?

Z is for Zachary Nathaniel

I can't believe it is over.  I can't believe I did the whole thing.  I can't believe so many of us did the whole thing.  I would like to continue, but I think I have a writing project now to finish.  I will post Tuesdays and Fridays for almost sure.  And either Wednesday or Thursday, if I can swing it.  We will see.  I need just a little break, but not too much.  I at least have to see if I can get something in print.  I said I was going to, but haven't done it yet.  Write Club starts soon!   Aaargh!  Must be ready.  So I really do need to give my brain a change of pace here pretty quick.

The lobster boats are just waking up from their hibernation, and heading back to the water this week.  I got pictures while they were napping - just in time!  It's harder to get pictures when they are on the move.

So Z last lobster boat and poem is here.  First word - yare, a new word for me.  Thanks, rch over at Average Poet for the word yesterday.  I had my poem written, but rewrote and added some to get this word worked in!  I love learning new words!

Yare (yâr)adj.

1. Agile; lively.

2. Nautical Responding easily; maneuverable. Used of a vessel.

"Zachary Nathaniel"

yare little acrobat
a somersaulting clown

I’m a zipper
I’m a skipper

     I’m a zapper

     rather dapper

fast as a train on track
to trapping trips outbound

very snazzy

oh, so jazzy

     not too ritzy

     nor too glitzy

sleek as a denizen
in deepest azure seas

rarely lazy,
might be crazy

     zip and zappin'

     never nappin'

loud as a mighty roar
that causes prey to freeze

I will dazzle
sometimes frazzle

     just the best

     unnerving zest!

cool as an ocean breeze
a zephyr swirling round

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks for all the kind words this month.  It has been a fun 26 days!  I hope you will keep in touch with continued visits.  I will try to get around to doing the same!  There are so many good blogs out there, and so little time!  But I'll do my best!

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More of Zee info:

Zoe A. Zanidakis (ZAZ), Monhegan Island’s only woman sea captain and a contestant on Survivor.
Larry Mills  and his son Gary, in 1976, designed and built a steel lobster boat named "Zephyr."

And in case you are coming to Maine this summer:

Here is the schedule for the 2013 Lobster Boat Races in Maine this summer.  You may see some of the lobster boats I've written about this April.  If you get a chance, stop by Maine sometime...the bad part, is you can't easily get here on your way to somewhere else.  You have to come here on purpose. Next stop Canada or the Atlantic Ocean!

Y is for YYY

My theme for April, Poetry Month and the A to Z Challenge: Maine Lobster Boat Names A to Z with poems for each...
Now this next boat...YYY may just be a no name and the YYY is part of the registration number.  But since there were no other numbers there - I'm taking it!  I haven't found any other Y names yet, so this is what I'm going with!
I think it is a question...or three questons: Y? Y? Y?  (Why? Why? Why?)
Isn't she cute?  She reminds me of Sunrise, my S boat, only a little deeper yellow and a dark red bottom.  She looks more like a sunset to me.

YYY

It's Time to Go Home

All day out at sea
with little to show,
we've had a long day
    so,
       it's time to go home.
The gulls overhead
entreat us to stay                      
"Stay here in the bay",
       no,
           it's time to go home.
The shadows are long
the day is now short;
"Day's over" we sigh,
        then
            it's time to go home.
We head in before
a crimson sunset,
and gold on the hills,
        says
             it's time to go home.
Bow pointed to sun
dark creeps up our stern,
hot supper awaits,
        yes,
             it's time to go home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

And tomorrow, (drum roll) the letter Z for z end!  I cannot believe that I found it!  Well, I didn't find it.  A friend found it and sent me the url.  Thanks, Ree!

X it for Xtreme Measures

X has been found, really found!  It's the A to Z Challenge, and letter X is for today.  I have been searching for a lobster boat that begins with the letter X for quite some time.  and I found it a couple of days ago.
I have not yet met Xtreme Measures in person, but found its news article online.  It is a lobster boat that was lost off Spruce Head in a blizzard.  It had been lost for 10 days in February, but was located adrift about 150 miles away.
Story here: Bangor Daily News.

"Xtreme Measures"

The night was dark
And fearsome;
No stars to
Guide the way.
The sky was thick
With snowflakes;
No twinkle
Nor moon ray.
The waves were cold
And mighty;
No rest for
Boats this day.
With blust'ry winds
For weather,
The snow could
Hide a stray.

The boat was tossed
And tugging;
No hope to
Hold her tight.
The ropes were frayed
And loosened;
No crew to
Head her right.
The craft was sure
And worthy
As winds would
Give her flight.
The boat would go
Unnoticed
Until the
Next daylight.

For days no one
Could find her,
But still she
Tried to cope.
She wandered far
And yonder,
Until she
Felt taught rope;
A bit relieved
And tired
About to
Give up hope.
She gave in to
The guidance
No more to
Blindly grope.

At last this boat
Was rescued
From out the
White-cap foam.
The captain was
Excited,
His boat was
Guided home,
The miles of isles
and shoreland
He no more
Had to comb.
Still even keeled
And steady
She never
More would roam.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Q is for Quick Step

Double duty today - It's Poetry Friday Roundup over at Live Your Poem with Irene, and it's Q-Day in the A-to-Z Challenge.  After your visit here, pop on over to either place for some quality blogs!
Quick Step's picture was not taken by me.  I'm going to try to get one of my own shortly!

"Quick Step"

Quick Step

Dance with me now,
A quickstep or tango,
A waltz or a samba,
Jitterbug or fandango,
Dance with me quick
Across the wide floor;
Cake walk or flamenco,
Away from my moor;

Cha-cha or shimmy,
Shuffle or slide,
Hustle or hula,
A polka or jive,
I want to get out there

To boogie and twist.
The water's just right;
Let’s do the whole the list!

Other Q boats I've found in Maine, but have not taken pictures of yet:

Queen B is the name of a lobster boat on Chebeague Island.  He's selling lobsters here, so you will have to ignore that it is a sales pitch until I can locate him and get a picture of his boat.  I don't really want to take a trip out to Chebeague, but I'll do what I have to do.

Queen's Lady - she's on the water now, so I can't get a picture of my own unless I find out when he's coming to dock to unload.

And Susie Q I think her name is...saw it driving by and could not get an easy picture, due to twisty and hilly roads and perpetual traffic (well, here that means someone could come over the hill any moment, but you don't know when that moment will be, so you don't dare to stop)  I'm going to try again, though it isn't really a Q.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Added a new tab today, "Poet Tree".  I think I'll try to make a spot for poems no matter what my blog post is.  Here's a first instigated by Joy  at Poetry for Kids Joy.

L is for Lil Dipper

Lobster Boat Names from A to Z - 

Click on the A-to-ZChallenge tab above to go links to more A to Z posts!

Today's post from me is brought to you by the letter L!   First up is "Lil Dipper" and below an original poem for her.  Then there is Lasca J, a slightly larger boat with her own original poem.

Lil Dipper

"Lil Dipper"

                                           I'm a bobber, dobber, lobster boat
                                           Who bounces atop the sea
                                           I may look small but I'm no joke
                                           There's no one catches me!

                                           I'm a whipper, dipper, lobster clipper
                                           Who works a steady pace
                                           I may look cute but watch your back
                                           I'll beat you in any race!

 

Lasca J

"Lasca J"

High water or low

I'll push on the same

Skimming by others

Who know me by name.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Legal lobster (in Maine) =

• has a carapace between 3 1/4 and 5 inches long
• is not a berried female.
• has no V-notch, nicks, grooves, or indentations of any kind along its edge on the female tail flipper.

Live-tank or Live-well = A tank filled with seawater to hold live lobsters.

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I'll be posting on Sunday, though it won't be a lobster boat poem.  Sunday is a day off from the A to Z Challenge, but it will be a poem, and there will be pictures related to lobstering and Maine, so come on back then!

J is for Jacob & Rachel

The day of J-ay.
And this first poem was a first poem, scheduled and ready to post.  Then I came back to it today (which is yesterday officially for you) to check and see what I had put together.  I wasn't satisfied with it.  So I started messing with it.  I was just going to add to it, but then before I knew it:
Cut.  Revise.  Cut.  Paste in a different spot.  Cut.  Add. Edit-Undo, Edit-Undo.  Rewrite.  Add.  Think. Think.  Admonition to self - "Stop thinking and just see, feel and write".  Cut a bit, move a bit.  Done.  Whoops!  One more word change.

So the first poem just under the picture is old, below ~~~~~~ is new and revised.

"Jacob & Rachel"

1.
The lobsterman's job

To pass on to kin:

The traps are hauled up

And then tossed back in.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
2.
With barnacled hands
Sand dollar skin
 Periwinkle eyes
And rocky hard chin
He’s  a part of the land
A part of the sea
 A heart for the deep and
For his family.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
3.
Barnacled hands,
Sand dollar skin,
 Periwinkle eyes,
Rocky ledge chin;
 Part of the land,
Portion of sea;
 Heart for the deep
And for family.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And now that I see both together, the second one is nothing at all like the original.  That's good.  Do you agree?  Or do you prefer the first?
"But I see three poems here," I hear you saying.  Okay, just came back to this, this morning, and did some cutting and resulted in #3.  That's my pick.  What a transition!  I think I'm finally happy with it.  Less is more here.  J is also for Just Do It.
I like revising.  Do you?  Have you ever started with a poem or piece and messed with it so much that it ended up totally different?

Educational Jargon:

Jumbo: A lobster that weighs over 2-1/2 pounds.

H is for Happy Crab

Each day in April, except for Sundays, we are challenged to write on a topic that begins with the letter of the day.  Sunday will have a poem maybe topic related or at least Maine stuff, but not assigned a letter.  Click on the AtoZ Challenge tab above and visit more bloggers participating in this alphabetically challenging month!

It's also Slice of Life Tuesday, so head over there when you are done here at the shore!

My topic is Maine Lobster Boat Names...with a Trawler or two thrown in for missing letters.  Photos are all taken by me, of boats on the coast here in Maine.  They are mostly on land, as this is where they are parked for the winter awaiting warmer days and lobsters to return from deeper waters.  It was fun driving around, jumping out of the car, snapping a picture and taking off to find the next one.

I love this boat!  It definitely looks happy!  Love the color.  It just seems to be smiling.

"Happy Crab"

Warmer days

Gulls winging

Sun, fog, rain
Wind singing
Boat launch May
Happiness springing

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Educational Haven:

Hands-on Education - Lobster Conservancy Educational page - Lobster Curriculum.

Homarus americanus is the species of lobster caught in Maine waters.

Hard-shell lobsters =  Black mottling on the underside of the claws of the live lobster show that it is in its hard shell. They have not recently molted and you will need nutcrackers or a rock (seriously) to get the shell off after it's cooked.

Lobsters exhibit 'handedness'.  A lobster could have the crusher claw (dominant hand) on the right side while others will have it on the left.

 

Hen = A female lobster.

Hauling traps video (it's long...watch a bit) - not my video...YouTube of a local.

A Seaman's Woman

I watch the way your
Work gnarled hands
Comb through your
Tangled thinning strands
You reach for your storm-worn jacket
You grab your lunch
and kiss me "Thanks"
Your boots walk heavy
on the planks
I begin my waitful watching.
Sun warms the day
but not the seas
Over the side legs
swing with ease
Though slower than the day we wed.
Our grandson follows
quick behind
Hops in two young legs
At a time.
And runs his hand through tousled locks.
The day begins
for you anew
But it's no longer
mine to view
My life of sea is here on land.
I know the seas
that call your name
I've known that voice
and heard the same
I've baited and wrestled with ropes.
Side by side our
lives together
With winds, waves and
storms to weather
Until Salt and Sweet brought new tides
With life's new
challenges in hand
Though my sea heart
was grounded on land
It beat with you as you kept the tides.
Till you returned
from cold wild sea
For supper and
warm bed with me
These days and years skimmed by.
A son of the sea
Sweet left to marry
But Salt remained
to help you carry
Our name and all the load.
Son of Salt growing,
filling your boots
Puts down his
seaweed roots
And feels that tug on his oar-locked heart
Mirroring your moves,
Old Salty, beware
Your grandson watches
what you share
Becoming his own man of the sea.
And he will be strong
and happy as you
If he finds
his sea-woman true
To share this salt and sweet life.

Donna JT Smith, 2013

I should be writing about my trip and my grandson...but I guess in some respects I am. I started this poem a while ago, finished it, and then reworked it into this rhyming format, which I finished today. Though not men of the sea where I'm visiting  in Pennsylvania, the plot is still the same.

The House with the Straightened Wall

Today is Poetry Friday, and it's being hosted by Linda at TeacherDance.  Pop on over and read some great poetry and check out links to poetry related blogs by some pretty great teachers, poetry lovers and poets! 

The house with the straightened wall
Stands proudly
And tall
By the sea

The house with the straightened wall
Contentedly
Waits
For me

The house with the straightened wall
Sees its time
Is soon to
Come

The house with the straightened wall
Joins my whispery
Joyful
Hum

© Donna J.T. Smith, Feb.14, 2013

It's Poetry Friday and this is my poem about the house we are renovating, Gull Haven.  It sat quite sadly for a number of years, but is now getting new walls, floors, windows, plumbing, electrical, insulation and love.  It's been a long process, but it is getting close to the time when we'll be able to stay there at least for a few days at a time.  And we'll be there full time when we are both retired.
I posted the first poem here: The House with the Wrinkled Wall.  So this one is like a followup poem to the first poem that I wrote in October of 2011 when we first purchased the house.  By this October we should be finally finished with all the work there...maybe for this summer even.

Summer in January

It was a great day for the beach yesterday at 51 degrees, and even today at 41 degrees.  The sun was out.  A few people were walking their dogs on the beach, and others were, like me, just meandering around.  But for the most part each of us had our own piece of the ocean to ourselves.  It was a glorious day.

A quiet place to sit

My treasures

I love, love, love the ocean.  It was tough the first few years we lived in Minnesota.  I learned to love it out there too, but it wasn't the same as being near the sea.  I need it.

Hats Off

Tim's Favorite Hat

Just last week my husband and I were talking about the problem of men wearing hats when they ate in restaurants.  We were trying to figure out what had changed.  It used to be when people sat down to eat, the hat got taken off, but now...hats are on all the time.  It's a pet peeve of mine, I guess.

But looking around we realized that restaurants used to have coat racks and poles at all the booths with hooks so you could remove your hat AND coat (which is another thing we do now...eat fully clothed for the outdoors in winter).  Now if you set your hat down it has to be on the table or on a seat.  And on a seat, you are very likely to forget it.

This Saturday, we went to an old, well-known and loved diner in these parts that tourists frequent for the experience and locals frequent because they always have.  Moody's Diner was very crowded, but we got a seat quite quickly and sat down in our booth.  As we sat there, I suddenly realized that they had poles with coat hooks between each booth!  Just like the "olden days" we'd been talking about just a couple of days ago!

"Hey, look, Tim!  A hat rack!"

Tim put his hat on it saying, "Yeah, now I'll probably forget it."

"Yeah, probably!" I said, thinking that saying this was the best way NOT to forget it. 

We ordered our meals: blueberry pancakes with real maple syrup for me, and the meatlovers' omelette for Tim.  Then we brought out an iPhone and an iPad - anachronistically waiting for our food.

When the waitress came we quickly stashed the technology.  And after a quick blessing, we made short work of the food.  That's what I like about restaurants...no cooking.  Cooking takes so long and eating takes so short.  It hardly ever seems worth the time.  I guess it's one of those "enjoy the journey" things, but I don't particularly like the trip.  And then there's the clean up besides...no fun on that trip either.  But that's a blog for another day!

So we ate and left.

Ate and left....

ate and left...

hmmm.  

What could we be forgetting?

We got down the road apiece and Tim groaned.  "Guess what we forgot."

"Oh, no!  The hat!" I joined his groaning.  "I can't believe we did that! Should we go back?"

"No, it's okay.  It wasn't a hat I liked anyway."

"Okay, if you're sure you don't want to..."

"Nah, I have plenty of hats.  The only one I really like is my Whitefish anyway."

Sunday morning dawned, and it was time for church.  We decided to take the Miata; it was going to be a lovely day and on the way home we could put the top down and enjoy the freedom of sun and wind and pretend we were 25...or even 55!
As Tim reached up into the closet to grab his favorite hat it was not waiting...  No!  Not the Whitefish!
Yup, the Whitefish!  It was gone.  He had worn it to the diner after all.

On Monday morning I placed a call to Moody's Diner.  "Yes, we have it."
I didn't tell Tim.  He was headed out of town for business late that afternoon for a couple of days.
As soon as he left, I drove the 45 minutes north to the diner to pick up his hat.  While I was there, I had a bowl of lobster stew...my reward for being a good wife.  This time I kept the hat on the outside edge of the seat, so I would have to pass it to get out of the booth.
I considered wearing it while I ate.

Still Living to Learn

Maine Lupines on the Roadside

I remember my mother once saying that she was going to plant some Lupines. I did not know what those were.  She knew lots of wildflowers' names, and birds' names, too.  I was so intrigued as a little child to find out that things had specific names, not just  "tree", "flower" and "bird".  As I got older, I began to realize how really impressive it was that my mother knew them. She was a city girl who didn't have anyone to teach her the names of plants and animals.  But she was an original life-long learner and self-starter.  If there was plumbing to do, she was there by Dad’s side book in hand to "make suggestions" as to angles and materials.  Raise chickens?  No problem.  Make chokecherry jelly?  Done!

Mom and Dad always provided support and encouragement when it came to learning anything. We had pretty much free rein when it came to inventing, creating and investigating.  Knowing my love of science, my parents purchased for me a chemistry kit one Christmas and a real microscope on another. Learning was something my parents never stopped doing, and they kept all the doors open for us to follow after.

My parents moved to a fairly rural area when they were newly married, and my mother, as a young married woman with three small children and another on the way, became friends with another young mother who lived next door.  I remember playing with the neighbor’s daughter while our two mothers watched birds in the backyard and thumbed through bird books. They collected wild plants and pressed them between pages. I was 4 years old at that time, just old enough to realize my mom was learning things.

When I was 5 we moved out to the real country on ten acres of fields and woods. Mom taught me the names of birds and plants that shared our new habitat.  When I asked her a butterfly name once, she didn't know it.  So I took it upon myself to learn about butterflies and other insects. After all, she had done it!  Why couldn't I? 

Eastern Tiger Swallowtail

She bought me a couple of the little books called Insects of North America and Butterflies of North America.  I looked at those books for hours on end learning names and facts.  Often I'd carry my books with me, as I sat in the fields watching for new creatures.

At some point I saw a display of insects and butterflies mounted in frames, and so I determined that I could and would make a display board of butterflies of my own.  I had to research how to kill a butterfly without damaging the specimen.   I cannot believe that I was prepared to do that, but I thought of myself as a scientist.

So I set out to find the perfect specimen.  I found a beautiful Mourning Cloak as my first butterfly to mount. I put it in a jar that I'd put something in to kill it. I don't remember what the something was; I’d researched it, and with my chemistry kit, I’m sure I had something that would work.  It may have been simply some fingernail polish remover.  At any rate, the butterfly stopped moving, and I got my card stock and a pin. I lifted the lifeless butterfly out of the jar and carefully pushed the pin through the thorax and into card stock.  My first specimen was complete! I was a collector of butterflies and a real scientist!  What kind of butterfly would be next?  I raced outside to see what I could find.

It wasn’t until after lunch that I returned to my bedroom laboratory.  I went over to my bureau where I’d laid the butterfly specimen, but it wasn’t there.  I looked down on the floor thinking perhaps the wind had blown it off.   I found the card, but there was nothing on it.  The butterfly and pin were both gone.  My heart sank, I realized I had hurt a living creature. The small room with it's open window was no longer a laboratory, but a room of torture from which my impaled butterfly had escaped.

My mom said it was sad, but it was how we learned sometimes.
Thus ended my career of collecting specimens, but my fascination with learning has remained.  I have many things yet to try.  Thanks, Dad.  Thanks, Mom.

Potato Fields, a Mountain and a Brown River

Haystack Reappears

I am trying my hardest NOT to write poetry today, but it is so difficult for me somehow. It seems my brain wants some structure to follow or try to conform to in my writing lately.  I'm not going to succumb to the poet's voice inside. I want to just write like plain old sentences.
I awoke too early.  The sun is up early here owing to our more easterly location in Maine. There was too much light filtering in through the bedroom blinds nudging me.
The other problem that wouldn't necessarily come to mind until you try to sleep in a peaceful little farming town with one main road is, if you live on that main road, the farm trucks, 18-wheelers and log haulers must go by your house.  With our windows open, the trucks rumbled past the foot of our bed. This was a bit harsher nudge.
So we got up early...5:14 AM ...turned on our computers for awhile before breakfast, and then went exploring in the car.
The first half of the day was spent riding around the countryside of northern Maine looking, for me, and reminiscing, for my husband.   The sky is big here.  Rolling hills of potato country make for expansive views.  It was a mostly cloudy day, but the views were still awesome (in Maine we might say the view was "wicked awesome" which is a step above "way awesome").
After our return to the house, we sat and watched a storm move in over Haystack Mountain. For something called a mountain, it is pretty small, but still not quite small enough for me to climb.
Most storms approach from the west, right in line with Haystack.  Today being cloudy, we watched as the mountain captured a cloud with its peak.  And pretty soon a whole herd of clouds gathered around, encircling the peak.  As the clouds melded into one huge cloud, they completely enveloped the mini-mountain. At that point we knew that rain would arrive in a matter of minutes.
And rain it did. It poured and poured. For awhile we sat with the dog and enjoyed the rain from the safety of the covered patio. The thunder and lightning that arrived shortly thereafter made us change our minds and head inside...the dog was nervous anyway!
From the comfort of the living room we looked out and watched a newly born brown river flowing between the fields and in the ditches...someone's nice topsoil and fertilizer heading somewhere else to surprise some unsuspecting weeds with a free meal.

Maple Sunset

Ah, the quiet, the long views, the setting sun.  We arrived in time to see the sunset and have the cooler night breezes beginning.  I never tire of Aroostook County.  So here's an Etheree for last night...remember an Etheree is 1 to 10 syllables increasing for each line.

Tree
Shadow

As sun sets

Flowing growing

Cool shady fingers

Stretching, reaching warm ground

The sun probes leafy branches

Piercing through to the dark green side

One last bright spot before sun’s rays slip

Below to grace someone’s morning coffee

Things Are Looking Up

I looked up yesterday afternoon as I got into my car.  Stunning cirrus clouds were wispy over my head.  I grabbed my phone and snapped picture after picture.  I wanted to be sure they would look as good 2D as they did in 3D.
They made me hunger for more clouds.  As I went over the Kennebec River I could see that the clouds from there were also prime candidates for a photo shoot.  However, stopping in traffic wasn't an option, and neither was parking and walking back with this cast on my foot.  So I kept driving, all the while thinking "Rats, I want those clouds".  But as I got off that 4 lane bridge and started for the next narrow bridge to the islands, "what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a big old osprey on a wire quite near."  I had to cross that bridge five times before I could avoid traffic and stop the car on the bridge and get a picture.  As I pulled away after getting the shot, I saw that the car ahead of me was making a u-turn like I did, and the ones that had just come up behind me were driving really slowly and had stopped on the bridge also.  You know you are in Maine when a bird can cause a traffic jam in a town of 500.  But it's justified, he is back a couple of days early from Jamaica.  We're happy to see him.  Now for his lady friend's return!