Ogunquit, Maine: Sunrise, Sand, Rivers, Feathered and Other Friends – Marilyn Armstrong

Autumnal equinox in the northern latitudes. September. A week in Ogunquit, Maine. A tiny place but close to the beach and the river.

There are more people on the beach to see the dawn than I ever expected — there just for the peace and the beauty. Before the sun is up, the mist hangs on the sand.

Quiet this time of year. Most tourists are gone, now, so the streets aren’t crowded.

The moment there is a hint of sun, the mist disappears in a matter of seconds.

There is no more perfect time to be on the seashore of Maine than the very earliest part of Autumn.

Comes the sun …

If you are a photographer, you make take it as a sign that God loves you when having hauled your reluctant body out of bed while it’s still dark, then hike half a mile carrying all your gear to the beach while all the starving blood-sucking insects in the state gather to enjoy you as their breakfast buffet.

Suffer for your art? But you get a reward that is more than worth any and all of your efforts, because before you, as the mist burns away, a sunrise and a golden sun so breathtaking rises before you … and you are there and ready.

People of all ages walk along the water before dawn.

This is a day when your camera works perfectly, your batteries don’t run out, your lens is in perfect alignment, your eyes see and you capture exactly what you want to capture … and everything is in focus.

Then come the birds … terns, plovers, and gulls … Breakfast for the feathered residents.

Tiny plovers comfortably share the shore with one Great Black Backed Gull.

It doesn’t happen often. When it does, when it all comes together perfectly … then you must treasure it … savor it … and share it.

At times like these, it makes you remember why you started taking pictures in the first place.

The rising sun reflects on the sand as if it were polished glass.

That morning I discovered wet sand reflects light like a mirror. You can see the way the tide changes the shape of the sand along the shore.

The big seagull seems to be waiting for the sun to come up dissipating the last of the early mist.

The colors change from one second to the next.

Each moment is more beautiful than the one before it. Really, the entire time is probably no more than half an hour, but it’s a lifetime of beauty.

Then, final gold before full sunlight.

Later, I walked to the river and found this house. This is the Ogunquit River, just about a quarter of a mile before it joins the ocean. The house is virtually part of the river.

The only way I could find to get across the river to the house was by this “bridge,” really just a piece of wood across the rapids and falls. I declined to test it.

What happens in times of flood? Interesting place to build!

And finally, on my way back to our room, I found a hint of autumn near the beach in a small woodland area between the marsh and the shore.


See on Scoop.itMovies From Mavens

Maria Von Trapp died today at the age of 99. Here’s a bit of her real story.

Prologue Magazine: The real story of the  Von Trapp Family. The real story is a lot less sweet than “The Sound of Music,” but far more interesting and believable.

English: The Trapp Family Lodge in Stowe.

English: The Trapp Family Lodge in Stowe. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

If you enjoy history and like to know the real story behind the Hollywood version, this is wonderful information that will make “The Sound of Music” more than just a pretty movie with nice music.

If you just happen to  live in New England, you may already know most of this since the Von Trapp family settled in Vermont and were/are well-known local celebrities.

See on www.archives.gov


I’ve been to beautiful places and done nothing but watch the rain pour down for a full week. Talk about depressing. This time, it was a crummy hotel … but the weather was as good as it gets. Perfect. We could get up, go out and enjoy Cape Cod.


I have to admit: brilliant weather trumps luxury. Being trapped in a room, no matter how luxurious, isn’t much of a vacation and it definitely won’t offer much in the way of photo ops.

Mother nature rules. Especially when you are a photography enthusiast, even more if you are a couple and both of you are enthusiasts. So grab your gear. There’s a world out there we’re going to capture it!



Autumn is New England’s super saturated season. In a good year, when weather cooperates, the trees look electrified. The color can be so bright it seems impossible, unreal.

Not every year is vintage. Too much rain, early snow, too warm and autumn will be dull. Sometimes, a big storm will strip the trees before they change color, because fall is also hurricane season. But — when it comes together just right, it’s breathtaking. Amazing. These pictures are from the last great autumn. I’m hoping this year will be another. My cameras are ready.

Mill No. 4, 1911

All over the valley, they are remodeling old mills and turning them into office space, housing, places for crafts and shopping. This mill is in North Smithfield Rhode Island.

The clock tower from the side.

It bears the name of Mill No. 4, 1911. I haven’t been able to find out more. Yet.

Tower from the front.

I’ll keep searching, but meanwhile, Mill No. 4 is now an office park. Not bad.

The tower looms at certain angles.

Behind the façade, bits of the old mill are still visible. I guess that’s why they call it a façade.

Behind the façade.


Gloucester — The Cape Ann Fleet

Fleet boats at the dock.

From the earliest settlement days in New England, Gloucester has been nearly synonymous with “fishing fleet.”

The shoals extend far out to sea. These are dangerous waters.

Storms along these shores are infamous and no less dangerous now than in centuries past.

To be a Gloucesterman was to be revered as among the bravest of the doughty New England fisherman to put out to sea.

Still a busy port in the new millennium.

Whaling was one of the most important original industries through coastal New England and along with it, all other kinds of fish. The didn’t name Cape Cod after raccoon or deer.

There are two lighthouses nearby, neither visible. One is to the left and the other nearly straight ahead but hidden by a mist which always seems to hang over the water on even the clearest day.

Soon, out to sea.

While we stayed in Rockport, we visited Gloucester, which is “next door” and just down the road. Some pictures from the visit … summertime along a rocky New England shore.

There are many legends and stories associated with this shoreline, some true, some tall tales, some where the truth is impossible to know.

Walking on these rocks can be treacherous too. The ocean can quite unexpectedly come up over the rocks, making them slippery as ice.

Rumor says that “shore pirates” would wave lanterns on this shoreline to lure ships onto the rocks so that the marauders could steal the cargo. Such stories are so widespread that there is probably truth in at least some of them, but no one is left alive to tell the true tale.

Nearby Rockport, very early in the morning.