Category: Outdoors (page 1 of 2)

February is a rough month in Maine. While December can be autumn-like if we’re lucky and while January can be light on the snow at times, February is winter. Downright winter. And for most years, it’s when most of the snow falls. Week after week. In snows during February.

This is a quick post about an adventure of sorts Laura and I experienced just last week. We ran into town during a snowfall and on the way back to our home, visited a local hemlock forest as well as spotted some bald eagles perched alongside a field. What was initially a somewhat boring chore-filled day somehow transformed itself into isolated moments about which to write. This is why it’s always important to bring along a camera, wherever you’re off to. If I didn’t have my camera with me during this short trip, I surely would have regretted it.

We’ve been experiencing an odd February. Storm after storm is forecast, yet all we receive is one to two inches each snowfall. I’m not disappointed in the least because the less snow that falls, the less snow I have to clear from our sidewalk and driveway. What’s lovely about each snowfall though is the fact that it’s extraordinarily light and fluffy. And apparently, due to the lack of wind during each “storm,” the snow has been clinging to the branches of the trees, making for a picturesque landscape.

Our first adventure took us to Bonney Woods, a small forest that’s part of the more expansive Powder House Hill trail system of Farmington. As we made our way from Farmington on Anson Street, we noticed how beautiful the snow looked on the trees. We decided to pull over to walk some of the trails.

While I won’t bore you with too many photos, I’ll post a few to give you an idea of how similar the forest would be to Narnia. I’ll tell you though, we took our lives in our own hands while walking these trails as there was a solid and very slippery ice base just beneath the shallow layer of snow.

We really only remained in the forest for about 15 minutes due to the treacherous terrain. Any longer and we certainly would have perished. But as if the wonderful scenery wasn’t enough, as Laura and I continued to make our way back home, we noticed a cat walking through the snow across a field. And as we were watching the cat walk, we noticed three huge birds flying above. We were startled by the size of the birds and were even more startled as we discovered they were bald eagles. While we definitely saw three, I suspect there were four. It was tough to view the entire scene while I was driving.

Any time a person finds the opportunity to watch bald eagles fly above is a magical moment. Any time a person watches those bald eagles land about fifty feet above them is just plain crazy. That’s what occurred in our case. As we were driving along, we saw three eagles land in some roadside trees. We pulled over to photograph them. While the picture at the top of this post is definitely the best, the following illustrate how incredible these birds look when so nearby. Damn those branches.

What’s interesting is that at least one of these birds is banded with what seems to be a gold band. I did a bit of digging on banded bald eagles in Maine and found an informative website. I learned that, first, bald eagles can live for up to 25 to 30 years, and second, those who were gold banded originated in Massachusetts between the years of 1987-2006. There’s a chance that this band may be orange and in that case, it was banded by the same people (Andrew Vitz & Jennifer Longsdorf) between 2007-today. I find this extremely interesting. You tell me. Is this band gold or orange?

The website I visited offers the bird bander’s email addresses and a method of reporting sightings, so I might just send a few emails and a photo off to see what I get back. How exciting!

UPDATE

I submitted the information to the contacts I mentioned above and received this response:

Thank you for reaching out and informing MassWildlife of this observation. This burnt orange color band indicates this is a Massachusetts banded bird. The photo is just barely too far/unclear to be able to read the band number with complete confidence. It appears to be two numbers over B (XX/B), and if I had to guess, I would say 42/B (see screenshot, attached). If it is 42/B (federal band number 0709-02193), then this bird was originally banded on 5/31/2018 at the Quabbin Reservoir in New Salem, MA. 42/B does not have any siblings and MassWildlife has not been made aware of any other observations of this bird. I have updated our database accordingly with this observation with a note that the ID is not confirmed.

We also encourage you to report this observation and submit the band information to the Bird Banding Lab run by the USGS as they manage all bird banding data throughout the country in a single database. You can report your observation online at: https://www.pwrc.usgs.gov/BBL/bblretrv/.

What an interesting find. What’s even more interesting is that one of the eagles we saw came from Massachusetts. And now he or she has a new life in Maine.

I reported this bird to the federal website that was suggested to me. The website indicated that they receive thousands of submissions per year, so this one is admittedly a drop in the bucket. But hey, it’s something fun to be involved with.

Have you noticed the sun hovering just a tad bit higher lately? I have. Every morning while Laura and I eat breakfast in the kitchen, I’m forced to close the front window curtains at around 11AM. If I don’t, the sun that slowly creeps across the sky will ever so hesitantly, yet persistently, blind me. As of late though, I haven’t had to close the curtains. The sun’s trail now strides above the window’s edge, out of reach of my tender eyes.

When I think of winter, I tend to think of dark and gloomy days. While yes, December days do grow shorter and shorter as they continue on from mid-July, by the time the year closes though, there’s a semi-marked difference in each day’s duration. And as I just mentioned above, that subtle difference reveals a higher path for our beloved star – one that sits more and more true to the center of the blue than the day before.

January isn’t a terrible month in Maine. As I’ve mentioned in a previous post, there’s actually quite a decent amount of sun to be had. Strange, I know. You’d think it’d be snowing all the time and that we’d be battling blizzard after blizzard. If you were to visit our neck of the woods tomorrow, I think you’d be surprised by what you’d find. Easy walking weather. Easy relaxing weather. A nice cool breeze. But that may just be because this winter has been a mild one, minus the cold snap we recently experienced and that’s set to soon return. In the meantime, we’ll enjoy the easiness of it all, knock on wood.

The topic of discussion around this time of year eventually and predictably centers on how much light is being added to each day. While we know the days are getting longer, practically no one knows exactly by how much. That’s where I come in – to offer a neat little tool you’ll likely use for the rest of your life. How do I know this? Because I’ve been using it since circa 2010. And what a cool tool it is. If you’re interested, this tool will tell you everything you’ll likely want to know about sunshine and darkness, from the daylight and nighttime hours, astronomical twilight, nautical twilight, civil twilight, solar noon/midnight, and more. Interested? You can check it out here for my nearby town of Farmington, Maine. For your own town, simply add your city to the search box and hit enter. This is something like what you’ll find:

Below the graph is a table that reveals data regarding each and every day of the current month. If you like technical data, you’ll be thrilled with this tool. It’s almost too much fun.

So the next time you’re wondering how much more sunshine you’re enjoying today compared to yesterday, stop by the Time and Date website, or better yet, download and use one of their apps. And then let me know what you find.

January in Maine is legitimate winter. There are hardly ever any warm days sprinkled in like there might be during November or December. It’s winter. It’s cold. There’s no way around it.

I remember our first winter in the state. That was back in 2013. Sometime during December, the temperature dropped below zero and by the time January rolled around, the forecast called for -18°. At our house, we reached -24°. The deep freeze lasted nearly a month. Oddly enough, such low temperatures didn’t initially feel all too low. The thing is with such cold, it isn’t how cold it feels as soon as you leave the warmth of your home, rather, it’s how quickly you’ll freeze to death if you remain outdoors, unprotected. So it’s the speed of things that matter most in cases such as these.

In our neck of the woods (Farmington), the average high temperature for January is 26° and the low is 4°. That sounds about right. Strangely enough, as cold as it can be, there’s definitely a phenomenon regarding the sunlight. There’s more of it. While December gets downright dark with seemingly a mere few hours of sunlight per day, things begin to brighten up in January. Also, there are plenty of crisp, clear days during the month, which is surprising. Before we moved to Maine, I was resigned to the fact that winters would be dull and dreary forever, but after we arrived, I noticed that the days up north really aren’t that bad. Today, for instance, was lovely. It was about 22° as a high, but there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Sunny winter days are my favorites, especially after a heavy snowfall.

Speaking of snow, I’d say January and February are the months to count on for that. While December can certainly surprise, the meat of the season occurs during the aforementioned months. And there’s ice as well. So any snow that’s already fallen packs down tightly until it becomes extraordinarily slippery and dangerous. Feet of snow can fall during January and for some weird reason, these feet usually fall on Tuesday nights when I teach Jiu-Jitsu. I know this because it’s been happening for years. It snows, I cancel class, and I feel horrible for the next day and a half due to guilt. Nature likes Tuesdays, that’s for sure.

We’ve got a big, beautiful lake in our town. It’s called Clearwater Lake and it’s allegedly spring fed, which keeps it from freezing if the ambient air temperature isn’t low enough. Usually, a week or two of sub-zero or near to zero temperatures will do the job, but I’ve seen winters when the lake hasn’t frozen over at all. In general though, you’ll enjoy ice fishing or snowmobiling across the western Maine lakes beginning in January.

Finally, I thought I’d discuss the issue of road buckling during January in Maine. With very cold weather comes bumpy roads. Some towns in our area don’t have roads that buckle because said roads were created with proper base layers and drainage, but in my town, yes, the roads are horrible during January, February, and March. Sometimes, if it stays cold enough, the buckles and bumps last all the way into April. Basically, the air needs to warm enough and there needs to be enough sunlight to thaw the saturated soil below that’s decided to freeze and heave. Many roads in rural areas weren’t developed with longevity in mind. Plus, small town budgets can’t cope with the high costs of beautifully laid luxurious roadways. So we suffer every year. But while the bumpy roads discourage yours truly from driving faster than 23 miles per hour, it seems as though the locals don’t mind their cars falling apart. They seemingly couldn’t care in the least. They speed around the area with reckless abandon. So be it. They’re paying the bills.

To sum up, January in Maine is freezing cold and lots of snow falls from the sky.

Guess what we did a few days ago. We visited the Sugarloaf Outdoor Center here in Maine. Why? Because I took Laura out to a birthday lunch at Longfellow’s in Kingfield and the outdoor center is right up the road in Carrabassett. It’s only a 15-20 minute drive farther north on Rt. 27, so I figured, “What the heck. Let’s do it.”

Birthdays are always better if the person celebrating the birthday is taken out for a special day. My goal is to do more of that. The issue with Laura and me is, we’ve been together for a good long time. Activities fall by the wayside. Things become comfortable. “I’m going to take you out someplace fun for your birthday this year,” I’d say. “Okay, that sounds great,” she’d reply. And then the day of, “It’s cool if we just stay in today. It’s kind of windy out there.” And then we both stay in and do exactly what we did the day before, whatever that was. It’s classic and this sort of occurrence takes effort to overcome. So that’s what I did this year – I put in some effort, refused the offer to stay in and we had an interesting time exploring something new and eating a nice lunch. After that, we jogged over to Annie’s for a couple of cups of coffee for the ride home. That’s what I initially wanted – the coffee. They were the impetus behind the entire trip. Everything else was fluff. (Not really.)

This is what we encountered upon entering the outdoor center drive.

Talk about a winter wonderland. More on that below.

I checked Google Earth to see what we’d be in store for at the outdoor center. I wasn’t sure where exactly it was located, so I thought it might be helpful to get some sort of a street view to assist. Doing that actually did help. For some reason, my brain sometimes needs this type of support.

A few years ago, a gentleman from either Anson or Emden (I can’t remember which one) visited us at the house. He was interested in us watching his dog for a few days while he was at work. He explained that he was in charge of keeping the ice skating rink cleared of snow and smoothed and ready for skating. Laura and I thought his story was fascinating because we weren’t aware that an ice skating rink even existed at Sugarloaf. The man told us, “Oh yes, it’s located right at the Sugarloaf Outdoor Center,” he said. Which, of course, gave me pause because I wasn’t aware there was an outdoor center either. Just goes to show how much I know. Either way, it took Laura and me three or four years to make it up that way. I thought it’d be neat to check out the rink, the center, and I also wanted to drive through a small neighborhood of mountain cottages. Cottages located at the bases of ski mountains are always very nice to be around, so I thought taking advantage of our time up north doing that would be time well spent. Unfortunately, the destination cottages I had in mind never came to fruition. I missed the road entirely. We did, however, visit an alternate neighborhood, which I’m sure was just as good. Everything else was visited as intended though, which was super cool.

The drive to Sugarloaf was fairly uneventful. The wind was active during the morning hours, but began to fade by the time we passed through Kingfield. As we approached Carrabassett and Sugarloaf though, conditions changed dramatically. It was like we had entered another state entirely. Snow began falling, the winds picked up once again, and the trees were covered with snow left by a previous storm. Needless to say, we were loving it. The scene gave us the ultimate winter vibe. Freezing cold, blustery, and a beautiful base of hard packed snow – covering everything, even the parking lot.

I was reminded of the last time I visited Mount Snow in Vermont. It gets unnervingly frigid up there too.

You already saw the drive into the center. I didn’t take many more photos, but I did manage to grab one of the skating rink.

The rink was closed because of terrible conditions. The aforementioned storm not only dumped snow, but it also dumped rain. Those things coupled with warm and then bitter cold temperatures froze the resulting slush into nearly solid, albeit lumpy and bumpy, ice. The men who were charged with keeping the rink cleared and up to snuff had their hands full. It took multiple days, but they got the job done. A day after we visited, that is.

We visited the interior of the outdoor center and chatted with an employee for about 15 minutes. It was explained to us that there was a retail store available, which sold snow shoes, cross country skis, outdoor clothing, and a few other items. Outside, besides the skating rink, there was an entire trail network available as well. One upon which to use the gear one might purchase inside. Most importantly though, the center offered the most stunning view of Sugarloaf Mountain. The employee led us to the view and Laura and I captured some photos. It’s a shame there was a big snow squall cloud directly in front of the mountain though. We could barely see the trails. Also, just past the birch tree is a frozen, snow covered pond. I’m guessing we would have had better luck with our photography during the autumn.

If you squint your eyes and really stare, you can see the trails in the distance, just above the pine trees.

Basically, we hung around for a while taking photos and then we left. My stomach was growling and I was ready for lunch. As we headed down the hill from the center though, I snagged one more photo. This is the Adaptive Outdoor Education Center (AOEC) and it encompasses a giant yurt, which is what I was actually taking a photo of.

People who live in Maine, for some reason, love yurts, so I thought I’d share. If I had the chance, I’d certainly enjoy touring one to see how I like it as well.

After we left, we toured that neighborhood I mentioned above, visited the Carrabassett Animal Hospital (because I had some questions about my cat), drove south to Kingfield, ate lunch, and then visited the gas station (Annie’s) across the street for some coffee. All in all, I’d say the day was a success. Next up, I think we’ll head out to Conway, New Hampshire again. I’m getting a hankering for a nice winter visit to the White Mountains. Until next time!

Throughout my life, I’ve encountered so, so many people who’ve moved to the southern United States to escape the cold weather and snow of the north. You must remember, I grew up in New York, a state most residents incessantly complain about and want to eventually leave. And being from New York, these people don’t necessarily desire a repeat of cold, snow, dirty roads, and expensive real estate. So they move to North Carolina, South Carolina, and Florida. It’s just a thing. I get it, but really, I don’t. I suppose some people are into an easier way of life. One where they don’t have to deal with things. For me though, I enjoy the struggle of it all. The discussions of the impending snow fall. The talk of some Joe right up over the hill who’s stuck in four feet of snow in a gully, without a prayer in the world. The driving around in the bitter cold in an attempt at finding the best cup of coffee. You can’t do these things in 80° heat.

You know what else you can’t do in 80° heat? You can’t go snow hiking in the middle of nowhere while simultaneously enjoying the fact that there’s not an insect to be found. You have to actually think about this one; it’s not self-evident. It takes a pause to recognize that you are, in fact, hiking through a forest, walking across a frozen lake, trekking along a snow covered dirt road or some field – and yes, the last bug you’ve seen was months ago. Once you realize this little tidbit of fact, your day will be that much brighter. And then you’ll begin freaking out because you’ll realize that spring is right around the corner.

Laura and I strolled our forest a few days ago, as we do every morning. Ever since we purchased the parcel next door and after I cut a beautiful network of trails, our walking, talking, and soaking it all in has become a tradition I wouldn’t trade for the world. Winter is perfect for these walks, but therein lies the problem. Or, part of the problem. While the winter months are great for hiking around the thick, the summer months are just awful. Between the humidity and the blood-sucking insects, we don’t even try to go out there. It’s such a shame too because most people consider the summer months to be the finest in Maine. If these people were being honest with themselves though, they’d agree that the months of October, November, April, and May are simply stellar. The rest? Well, I’ve got a serious issue with June, July, and August, and others would most likely endeavor to avoid December, January, and February. I don’t know why though. After all, if a person isn’t into the winter and all it’s got to offer, there’s some serious curiosity circling around the question of why they’re living in northern New England. We went for a walk in the snow up our road today. It was lovely. The cloudy skies, while normally dismal, gray, and oppressive feeling, were somehow settling and, dare I say, inspiring. Perhaps it had to do with the fog crawling across the snow. I’m not sure, but it was a worthwhile walk. We’re trying to get back out there after a short hiatus. I can’t recall at the moment why we stopped, but the hiatus lasted a few weeks. We’re now back at it.

Anyway, back to my story. It’s a quick one. As Laura and I were heading back inside from our aforementioned stroll, she said to me, “Do you know what I just realized we’re not seeing any of?” I replied, “What?” “Flies,” she responded. And just from that quick exchange, I decided to write this post. That’s the beauty of blogging. I get to come up with these ideas, really, out of thin air. It’s a good hobby for me. Succinctly put, when the flying insects are hibernating, humans are at liberty to enjoy the outdoors all that much more. And that’s a good thing.

It snowed about an inch last night and since the temperatures were above freezing, the bottom half inch is slush. I shoveled the sidewalk, but haven’t touched the driveway. I’m thinking that if I ignore it long enough, all that snow and slush will just disappear. In reality, I don’t think that’ll happen. Tomorrow morning, after the debacle has frozen solid tonight, I’ll head out there and sand the heck out of everything. I suppose this is why those folks I mentioned above move out of Maine and the rest of New England. To get away from things like this. I’m not sure what they’d do to replace these types of activities, but to each his own, I suppose.

Happy New Year. I wish you the brightest and most prosperous 2025 you can imagine. Have a great night.

I better get on with this post as December is nearly at its end. As I sit here and type, a bitter cold breeze is blowing. What we’re experiencing right now is a far cry from what we experienced at the beginning of the month. This year, December came in like a lamb and will go out like a lion.

Anything can happen during December in Maine. Two years ago, the temperature was nearly 70° on Christmas. Needless to say, we didn’t enjoy a white holiday that year. A few years before that one, the temperature was below 0° on Christmas. So yes, while the final third of December is technically winter, wide variations in temperature and precipitation can exist.

This year, December began just fine. As the month progressed, we experienced a few snowfalls, but they were generally to be expected. I’d say things were pretty average with the temperatures just above normal by a few degrees.

A few days ago, Mother Nature decided to play a joke on us out here in the sticks. She dropped the temps from a balmy 30° to a downright chilly 0°. As I was driving down the road yesterday morning at 7:30, I read my car’s dashboard. It told me the outside air was -4°. It was noticeably cold! If you don’t think there’s a difference between how easily a person can survive and how quickly a person can freeze to death within the range of the two conditions I just described above, I can tell you that you’re wrong. There is a difference and the closer you get to zero, the faster your potential of freezing solid. Cold is a legit threat.

So far, I’d estimate this season’s snowfall to be around 24″. Maybe a bit more. By this point, I’ve lost count of how many storms we’ve had, but there have been a few – an eight incher, a six incher, another six incher, and some minor stragglers. Just this morning, we woke up to approximately six inches of luscious powder that my snow blower didn’t argue with at all. After I cleared the driveway, I returned indoors to tell Laura that, “This snow is what snow blower advertisers use to show off what their machines can do. Perfect fluffy, dry powder. Such an easy job.” It was like the kind of snow a person can walk normally through, without lifting their legs. It was so light that I simply kicked while trudging to the garage and the snow easily puffed away from me. Very good skiing snow, I can imagine.

Basically, December in western Maine can offer a varied experience to begin with, but the closer the days make their way to January, the more fierce the weather usually is. There’s really no way around it. Laura and I have been living in our area since 2013 and we’ve yet to experience a warm January. Just as July is hot and sticky, guaranteed, January is bitter cold and full of snow. If you enjoy skiing, snowmobiling, and ice fishing, western Maine during December/January/February is where you want to be.

For a while there, I was getting nervous. I knew it would eventually arrive, but I had no idea when. Well, the snow showed up and then it showed up again. And the second time was a doozy. The lights actually turned back on just a few hours ago. The storm made for a very dark Thanksgiving holiday weekend.

Early last week was the first time we received any amount of snow. Barely an inch fell, but it was enough for Laura and me to get excited about. We woke up, looked out the window, and said, “Winter’s back.” Taking advantage of the situation, I ran outside with my camera to see if a scene would pop out at me. I think I did okay. Things always look better in person, but I hope you agree the weather has done this tree justice. And I even managed to get a partial sunburst out of it. Remember, f/18 for a burst like this. As you can see, I had a cloud to contend with so the lighting isn’t nearly as pure as it could be.

That’s a balsam fir, by the way. It’s an extremely prolific tree here in Maine and it’s one of the prettiest too. The needles are soft and if broken, smell sweet, resinous, and spicy. Balsam firs are popular as Christmas trees, so we’re lucky to have hundreds, if not thousands, on the property. We actually plan on cutting down a larger one to steal the top. We only need about four feet of tree this year. We’ll place it right inside our home’s large front window. As balsam firs grow larger, their tops become very thick – perfect for desktop Christmas trees.

Much more snow fell on Thanksgiving day – probably around six inches – this time very wet. The first go-round was cold, dry, light snow (tiny flakes) and the second was thick, heavy, sticky snow (big fat flakes). The type of snow that clings to trees and electric wires and anything else that’s in its way. The type of snow that cuts the power around 5pm, just as a guy like me stands at the stove preparing a beautiful dinner. And the type of snow that wallops the entire state and creates havoc for at least 48 hours. That’s how long we went without electricity this time. But what’s strange is that even though the power outage was annoying, I think Laura and I have gotten so used to them that we really didn’t miss a beat. After the, “Oh no, not again,” we simply pulled the oil lanterns from storage, filled each one with fuel, lit them, and sat down for a romantic dinner. A good dinner. A hearty Thanksgiving dinner that consisted of turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes and squash, cranberry chutney, asparagus, and a lovely chocolate cake for dessert. The entire time, we sat in near silence, only for that silence to be broken by our talking. We’ve spent so much time like this together, and again, while inconvenient and frustrating, it’s also somehow rewarding and dare I say, something to be cherished. But there I go again. Laura will tell me I just went too far. “Tone it down, Bob. Reel it in.”

Now that a few days have passed, the soft, wet, somewhat manageable snow has frozen and transformed into what we refer to as the hard candy shell – a base that’ll last until mid-April at least. It’s an icy and crusty type of footing that’ll, if not careful when walked on, break an ankle. We don’t care for this type of snow – it makes our treks into the forest all that much more challenging. We still make those treks though because, as per tradition, we bring our coffee with us and wander extra slowly. Being winter and all, there are no bugs and even less sweat. And if the sun is shining, well, it’s just a glorious experience. Here’s to the 2024/2025 winter season.

One part of my life that I’d say I’m fairly consistently concerned with is how I spend my free time. I’ve written posts that describe some of the world’s most popular hobbies as well as posts that describe which hobbies are most popular for men in particular. Have these posts done anything for me specifically? Have I gotten any ideas? Have I gotten very far with my attempt to settle on a hobby that’ll bring me through to the end? Not really. I do keep coming back to blogging though so I may as well consider this the one. I thoroughly enjoy sitting at my desk writing. Even if I write things that wouldn’t be considered as interesting to most people as much of what’s currently available is. I have a small following though and for that, I’m appreciative.

I don’t think Laura struggles as much as I do in this regard. There’s a peace about her. She rarely seems bored and she almost always appears to have something to do. She’s just about as introverted as I am, so she also enjoys toiling away at never-ending projects that keep her mind busy through the days. It’s fun to watch and at times, I secretly take notes on how she does it all. Don’t tell her that though. I oftentimes position myself discreetly on the sidelines.

One of Laura’s hobbies has to do with the photographic capture of the goings-on of the creatures in the forest. I can’t be certain of the reasoning behind the attraction to this activity, but I can tell you that her commitment is steadfast and unwavering. A few years back, Laura purchased two trail cams that she inconspicuously mounted to appropriate trees in the wild – and since that very first moment of recording, she’s been unyielding with her maintenance (battery changing and SD-card swapping). Basically, one of her primary daily routines is to walk back into the woods to do what she does with those cameras. And then she comes back into the house to check the data cards on her computer for footage. If it’s a good day, she’ll have found some action. If it’s a bad day, she’ll have captured just the two of us wandering around out there, unknowingly caught on videotape.

I think it’s a fun hobby. I regularly get called over to watch the recordings of any number of animals. By far, the most recorded is the squirrel. Then comes the rabbit, house cat, random neighborhood dog, deer, turkey, bear, escaped pig, racoon, moose, bobcat, fisher, fox, bird, beaver, coyote, owl, porcupine, or goose. You name it, we’ve seen it, so you can understand why this type of footage is fun and, dare I say, addicting. Even I sometimes look forward to discovering what type of antics were occurring outside the night before. So much so, I purchased Laura a new Vikeri trail cam last year for Christmas. Vikeri is just another knockoff brand from Amazon, but the camera has so far served us well. It produces high-resolution imagery that’s far better in quality than the other two cameras. It hasn’t been without its hiccups, but since I contacted the company to learn its ideal settings, it’s been operating very well.

Take a look at these two photos. The first one is of a few deer passing through one of my freshly cut trails and the second is of our very own moose. We don’t see moose too often around here, so this sighting was especially exciting.

We’ve got about a zillion other photos, but I thought these were a pretty good example of what we find on the daily. The videos we capture are especially entertaining, but you’ll need to wait until we put together the giant montage we’ve been threatening to make for at least a few years now. We’ll get to it and when we do, I’ll post it here. I’ll also post any standout shots we capture – ones that folks generally don’t see too often. Okay, see ya!

Good morning! I woke up a little while ago, warmed up a mug-full of apple juice, and now I’m seated at my desk writing this post. I enjoy my routine, especially during the late fall and early winter months in Maine. There’s something special about this time of year, so I thought I’d write about it. By the way, since I’m running low on decaf tea, I’ve turned to drinking hot apple juice in the morning. I don’t like to drink caffeine on an empty stomach because it makes my head spin. The alternative has proven to be especially scrumptious and sweet and when combined with the chilly air outside, simply perfect. Small mug, microwave for two minutes, done.

This November marks the 11th I’ll experience in the state. When we arrived from Florida in 2013, I honestly had no idea what to expect. While I had grown up and had spent most of my years fairly close to the mid-Atlantic portion of the east coast, I had yet to experience a late-fall/early-winter in northern New England. What were we to encounter? Rain? Blizzards? Sunshine? Who knew? I can actually remember speaking with the realtor on the telephone from my front lawn in Palm Coast. I told him we’d arrive in Maine toward the middle of the month. He didn’t seem phased by that. I thought there’d be feet of snow on the ground already and that we wouldn’t be able to access the driveway. I was wrong, but we did drive through a few inches in northern New Hampshire. That’s all was saw for at least a few more weeks.

November has become my favorite month of the year. Laura likes October best because of the foliage, but I’ve always preferred the trees after the leaves have fallen. There’s a certain level of loneliness to it and apparently, that seems to be what I’m attracted to. The leaf peepers have come and gone, the air becomes so much cooler, and Maine reverts back to what it was always meant to be – a place to get away from it all. It hardly ever snows in our area in November. Sometimes, we experience a brief cold snap that allows for coverage of the highest peaks, but in general, if we do get a flurry or two, anything that has fallen will melt soon enough. Remarkably, there’s also a lot of sunshine during November, which is something many folks wouldn’t expect. As I sit here and type, the sun is shining down strongly without a cloud in the sky. And most of the week is forecast to bring the same. So yes, November is a lovely time of year in Maine.

The thing is, November also brings with it wind. While we don’t experience much of it at all during the warmer months, it begins kicking back up in late October. We go from daily breezes of about 3-4 miles per hour to a regular speed of 8-15 miles per hour. It’s nothing terrible, but it’s certainly noticeable. Also, November brings with it unpredictability. While the weather is oh so perfect for hiking, you’d certainly want to check the forecast closely to be sure you won’t get stranded someplace in a snow squall or wind storm. One never knows, so it’s best to be prepared.

Overall, November’s colorful purple and deep orange sunsets, crisp, clean air, shorter days, and its element of eeriness bring it to the top of the list of favorites for me. I’m sure most people wouldn’t share the same affections, but that’s what makes life so interesting. We all get to pick and choose from the best of what nature offers us.

Have a great day!