Maine

Maine is Beautiful, one of the 3 states in the US that I would voluntarily live in. I like the quaintness, the New England appeal, the seafood, the houses, the predominant architecture and its privacy.

This is Maine by way of US1. The coastal route is the way to go because it how one can see the communities. 

 This photo was taken in York, Maine, just further north of Kittery; it was charming and serene but pretty nippy.

 

 The Nubble Lighthouse, an iconic structure in Maine. Seeing it with the Atlantic Sea as the backdrop was well opportune.

 A melancholy scene.

 Capturing this was just as memorable as the scene itself, I decided on the vision of this angle and had to climb sharp rocks high and higher still to get to this point. I loved it and I love this picture. This was in Cape Elizabeth.

Birches

The Lighthouse at Cape Elizabeth, ME. 

Entering Kennebunkport:

The Democrat Headquarters in KB.

For good measure, I present, Bush '41's summer home, also in Kennebunkport.

Chapel near Cape Porpoise

The town of Kennebunk - on the left

 

signposts for businesses

The Cake House

bed and breakfast

Meanwhile in Portland:

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow... well, a rendering of him.

the Longfellow Commons

Portland enterprises...

I'm famished, let's have some Lobster... 

A scene from DiMillo's Floating Restaurant

If there is an ugly part of Maine, I must have missed it; everything I saw was romantic and I was charmed.

Staring at Doors

Staring at doors allows me to study the character of a house and ponder upon it’s very state and about the people behind it. Each would remind me of my home, no matter how uncared for or opulent. The subconscious representation of a door is home to me. Doors remind many of us of new beginnings, journeys, goodbyes and comfort. Oh, how significant is the door.

For years I have pondered upon taking photographs of those doors I would find particular whether optically pleasing or not; and it would take me the year 2008 to finally take the pictures. In 2009, it’s time to put it together and here are the results. I know each door I have taken and I can tell the background of each one. If I do not know the story behind it, I have made one up to add for an interesting measure.

My sister once commented about how sad must the destitute be in rural areas wherever we would venture to those towns and it’s the doors that tell the story; my retort has always been, “As long as there is a family inside a house, it is home and someone will always answer the door.”