Fort Popham

I may have gotten a bit overzealous amidst all this concentricity. I am not even caring if that is a word, sshh, let your eyes feast on the lines...{i kid you not, almost every one of these still has its b&w/color counterpart over in my flickr pool, i couldn't leave any of the tender things behind.}



I used to dream of stone houses.



full of corners, laden with the weight of their age. Silent under foot.







But I imagined them full of kitchens with warm ovens, and heaps of wool before I ever knew how essential wool is to me. Later I understood how stone can be stifling and cold at once, but I still swoon over its textures and sweet neutral palette, its spare dusty scent.



Boy battles shirt:



and wins. Which was, I believe, the most action this fort ever saw.

Hermit Island

We went camping on Hermit Island while in Maine, a little island that has been a designated recreation spot for over 60 years, and those who know say it hasn't changed much since. You drive on (no RVs), pitch your tent, and spend your days walking the trails that criss-cross its tiny area from one secluded beach to another. We brought kayaks to explore the bay (no pictures, water sports and my camera don't mix) and sampled about seven different beaches. These photos are from a walk we took around the southern tip.











I like rocks. The end. I will try to get more glimpses of our epic stay on the Atlantic coast trickling in.