I thought there'd be too much muck to struggle through getting from Vinalhaven's shore out to Penobscot Island so I took a kayak and launched myself from a place oppositte the island's mid-point.
It was an hour or so before low tide and just enough water in which to paddle which I did with some apprehension, thinking all the while how much shallower it was likely to be when I was ready to return. My plan was to walk southwest to the island's extremity and around it's northern shore then cut across the island at a place I judged to be opposite where I'd begun.Thoughout this exercise I've been amazed by the mussel beds, by the size of them. This one stretches out toward the Carrying Place. A coon, too far off to be photographed but finding itself amidst such plenty instead labored away in the mud for a clam. Coming around the northern shore I got a look at Starbaord Rock from a vantage i'd never enjoyed before and tried to pick out the initials my grandfather carved there expressing his devotion to my grandmother.
Here, inexplicably, the mussel shells are carefully scupted to from a ridge elevated way above its surroundings as if forces moved on it from all directions equally.
The island's streams are busy discharging snow melt. Some, like this one, are very small and have been doing business in one place for so long they leave a rusty footprint.
A gathering of Perriwinkles gathered cooperatively that they might more readily hear the featured speaker.