Category: Outdoors (page 1 of 2)

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!

What another perfect weather day for some coffee accompanied solitude in the forest. Last night, the temperature dropped to 25°. Then, this afternoon, it rose to the mid-40s, which was a stellar companion for the clear blue skies we experienced. I noticed these clear skies just after Laura and I moved to Maine in November of 2013. I grew up on the east coast and for most of my life, I thought nearly all of the northern portion of the coast saw fairly similar weather. I also thought that the farther north one travels, the more cloudy it would be – especially during the winter months. Apparently, that’s not so. We see quite a few blue sky days all winter long, especially during the morning hours. The skies over Maine do have a propensity for clouding up during the afternoon, but for those few splendid hours after the sun rises, well, we enjoy them very much.

When the weather gets cooler, the chickadees begin following us around the trails, begging for food. They’ll chirp and squeak and flutter around, all to get our attention. It’s not our attention they actually want – it’s what Laura’s got in her pocket, which is a small container of bird seed. The birds seem to know what she’s hidden on her person and they hassle her until she stops walking and feeds them for as long as they desire. This may actually be part of the reason it takes us so long to make it through the trails. Stopping for 10 minutes every five minutes can’t exactly be considered productive.

We actually don’t see these birds very often during the spring and summer months. They eat from our feeders, but oddly enough, it’s almost as if they don’t want to know either one of us. I guess aloof would describe them best during these times. They’re courting each other and mating and building nests, so I’ll give them a break, but it’s sort of upsetting to watch friends we’ve been so close to at one point totally ignore us during another. Come October, November, and the rest though, oh yeah, they want to be friends again. Beggars they are.

We’ll continue meandering through the woods for as long as we can, feeding the birds, until the snow comes. We don’t know when that’ll happen – it could be tonight or it could be the middle of January. One never knows in Maine. The weather is very unpredictable, but we’ll do our best to enjoy ourselves.

Did you know that the country of Scotland covers 30,414 square miles? And that the state of Maine covers 35,380 square miles? Those numbers are pretty close to each other. Coincidence? Perhaps. Or, perhaps these two land areas are so similar in so many respects that they should be considered twins. I won’t say that Scotland gets nearly as cold as Maine gets or probably nearly as hot, but both areas offer their fair shares of both low and highlands, flying insects, coastlines, and funny accents that no one from anywhere else can understand. Laura and I live in Maine. We like Maine. We also talk about liking Scotland. We think about it a lot and we like what we see on the internet. We’d love to visit one day, which is what inspired me to write this post.

A few weeks ago, Laura approached me and said, “This is the place. This is the one.” Me, having a curious nature, went to take a look. Laura was showing me photos of a river, a bridge, and a small stone structure, all situated within a network of trails. It’s called The Hermitage and it’s located near a beautiful small town in Scotland, called Dunkeld, which people call the gateway town to the Highlands. The area surrounding Dunkeld consists of farmland, mountains, lochs (lakes), and Tay Forest Park, a patchwork of greenery covering some of the most picturesque parts of Scotland. If you care to watch the following video, you’ll quickly discover why The Hermitage is so special. I needn’t tell you. You’ll see for yourself.

While I’d really love to share with you why we feel so strongly about The Hermitage, I can’t. The most I can do is tease you until I’m ready to talk. The time simply isn’t yet right. I did want to introduce you to the place though so you had a chance to admire its beauty as we have. And when I’m ready to tell you what might occur, I’ll spill the beans.

Before I go though, I’d also like to introduce you to a fun fact about the area – its Douglas fir trees (also known as the Ossian’s Douglas-fir). These Douglas firs were introduced in the 1800s to Scotland by a man named David Douglas. Mr. Douglas planted his fir seeds at The Hermitage and one grew from 1887 until 2017, when it was blown over by high winds. Before its demise, the tree reached the astonishing height of 207 feet, which made it the second tallest tree in all the United Kingdom. While Maine can’t claim a tree nearly as tall, we do have one that’s pretty tall at 120 feet. It’s a white pine. So while not twins regarding our trees, the country and state are sort of like brothers in this regard. Scotland’s got its Douglas fir trees and Maine’s got its white pines and awesome looking hemlocks. That’s good enough for me.

That’s it for now and I promise to keep my elusiveness to a minimum in the future. This one was just too much fun to keep to myself.

I snapped this photo with my phone a few weeks ago when our little slice of Maine had just climbed over the hump of peak foliage. Frost covered the grass and there were fewer leaves on the trees than off. The day was a good one – warm in the afternoon and cold at night. If only life like this in Maine could last just a little bit longer. I know. I ask for too much.

Take a look at this lovely weather.

The current date is November 12, 2024. The temperature this season has yet to drop into the 20s, but that’ll all change tonight. As I sit here and type, I can hear the wind howling outside my window and feel the cold air creeping through the walls. The forecast tells me my area will experience 25°. Which is nice, to be honest. I enjoy the 20s, even if they’re ushered in by a bit of roaring.

Laura and I made our almost daily journey through the forest this morning, coffee in hand. We’ve learned that when we walk alone, without dogs, our walks last much longer than they do with dogs – in tow. We’ve also learned that when we bring two mugs of hot joe along with us during these times, the walks last even longer. So we obviously try to enjoy the latter as often as possible. It’s becoming frequently more difficult to do so, but that’s okay. The dogs are fun to be around and we like their company. Shorter walks is a small price to pay for the experience.

Speaking of love… I asked a woman with whom I volunteer yesterday how long she and her husband have been married. She replied, “50 years.” Decades ago, I would have thought the idea of being married to someone for so long a time an insurmountable feat. Today, I’m not so sure it’s as insurmountable as I once thought. I then asked her if she and her husband are in love today as much as they were when they first married. She replied, “Even more,” which I’m sure I already knew. They’re truly lovely people and they not only play for the same team, they play for each other. If you’ve ever been lucky enough to have experienced an extraordinarily long relationship with someone, you’ll know exactly what that means. It was music to my ears hearing these answers from my friend because as I get older, I realize the importance of acting responsibly and accordingly when holding the heart of another person.

Laura and I have been together for over 25 years and in the beginning, I wasn’t as likable as I am now. I don’t say that in jest – while I’m not claiming to be something that I’m not today, I am claiming that I wasn’t nearly as refined back in the beginning of this century in comparison, in regards to what it takes to care for another person. There’s a lot to learn and as time goes by, a guy like me realizes how to listen and act and how to be as good a partner as possible. Hopefully, Laura and I will be lucky enough to see another 25 years and hopefully you’ll read about them on these very pages.

Just some random thoughts. Thanks for reading.