Sunday, May 23, 2010

Leg 34, from the head of Mill Pond on Calderwood Neck around Boy Scout Point, to Jennings Cove.

During this early morning walk and the one preceeding it, in this one stretch of shore from the Carrying Place Bridge to Jenning Cove, I passed four houses my dad built, one he and I built and three I built myself. I remember when Livingston Jennings bought this land, all of it from a local fellow who probably thought he got a pretty good deal but then Liv divided up the narrow shoreline between the Carrying Place and the head of Mill Pond into one and two acre lots and the land on Boy Scout Point and beyond to where Stetson's is now into ten acre lots and put them all on the market. At the time my grandfather was a real estate salesman for the Allen Agency and Grant Duell was representing Cousins. Between the two of them and, a little later when I took over from my grandfather, me all the lots were sold. Jennings did pretty well for himself and in the process managed to get a heretofore unnamed offshore island and a cove offically named for himself.

A pair of Ospreys, probably in the committed sense, entertained me for a long while just off Boy Scout Point as they engaged in the remarkable aerials that allow them to prowl from aloft for prey far beneath them in the shallows of low tide. During my ten or fifteen minutes of observation they apparently didn't seen anything worth diving for but expended a lot of energy in the process.

I've often seen apple trees during my walk. Now and then one seems interesting enough to go up and investigate. This was one of those. They are nearly all lovely, rambling old artifacts, now and then exceptionally beautiful.

Next leg, when I get an hour or two will be from Jennings Cove to the area where Berger & Doris Youngquist once lived.

Saturday, May 8, 2010

My last walk terminated at the Carrying Place Bridge, terminated along with much hope that we or any of our descendants will ever again see the beauty that was that artifact, its surface having been obliterated but a pathetic 'restoration' undertaken by Knowles Industrial Services of Gorham, Maine. Calls to them have not been returned. I'm not surprised.

During this modest walk, perhaps an hour and a half, I passed three houses built by my dad, one we both built and a fifth by me, memories at every juncture.

Throughout this long exercise I've come across inexplicable concentrations of one kind or another. Early on it was accummulations of mussel shells but only in certain areas, then colonies of barnacles, again only in certain places. In each case there seemed no good reason why these should not have gathered just as easily in adjacent spots. Lichen are another good example. Certain species, with specific exposures, happily segregated from others. These black lichen are very enthusiatic about the west shore in this area of Mill River.
The Mill Pond was another and particularly desirable old mill site. The narrows are so constricted that they could easily be traversed by a hanging pedestrian bridge the remains of which are still in place as is some of the machinery. I can remember going back and forth here, hand over hand, as a kid.

There was a good chance for this little spruce to gather a little nourishment from an area just to its left. Instead, it stubbornly sent out a tendril across the entire dry face of this boulder to reach
a little soil elsewhere, probably a better neighborhood.

With summer and attendant deadlines coming on it's hard to find time to continue. Until fall, it may be only once every week or two. The next leg, later in May, will be from the Head of Mill Pond to Jenkins Cove.