Height of Accomplishment

On July 23 & 24, we enjoyed our last in a series of excursions

into middle coastal Maine. A beautiful place in a lovely time

of year. This glorious cultivated sunflower serves to help me

introduce our Atlantic sunset and sunrise,

 all three photographed in Belfast.

 More recently, we have enjoyed many things nearer home base,

including critter visits like those formerly seen on the balcony of our

Goffstown apartment. Vince has now taken to baiting the big birds

with roasted peanuts (with a plate of finer birdseed for

the smaller varieties). We have a flurry of immature blue jays

that skittishly fly in and out, but they are not showy, yet.

Here, Vince captured on camera a female (brownish) red cardinal.

The male flew in later, and escaped his moment of "fame".

 Here is the first of three photos I include with this post of

Vince aiming at his subjects. This time, he has set up this

ottoman 'blind' from which he patiently waited and kept

his cell camera live for dozens of minutes until the cardinal

felt it was safe and quiet enough to alight and quickly grab.

We had another visitor, too. 

Vince with his spreading fame as the 'bug man', 

had just been recalling a late summer 2019 Mission Office guest, 

lamenting that IT hadn't returned.

(Not sure if he REALLY expected that.) An early cell call from

Elder Smith teased about a 'surprise'. Later they 'gifted'

a juvenile walking stick that they found perched reminiscently

on the building's glass door when they walked in that morning. 

Felt so much like last summer's walking stick visitor

that we immediately took to calling it 'Junior'.

Here, below, Elder Smith poses on the inside of the sidelight,

as Elder Warner replaced the liberated insect on the outside.

Another high note was a quick visit I made to visit these

wonderful pairs of Bedford Sisters at their apartment:

Sisters Evans, Young, McDonough and Mendenhall.

It was my privilege to make the 20 min. one-way trip down to

Amherst Road in Nashua to bring them back their

Chick-fil-A lunches. It was a FINAL farewell (for now?)

as Sister Evans is headed to Maine, and Sister Young

up into middle Vermont with the Aug 13 transfers

that included 23 newly arriving missionaries.

Sisters Young & Mendenhall are Sister Training Leaders,

counterparts to being Zone Leader Elders.

Returning to our Belfast excursion, my wonderful companion

did a slightly uncharacteristic thing, booking an on-the-coast

motel room. An overnight stay was required because of

the distance traveled to complete our car exchange in Ellsworth

(reported previously) and some Maine vehicle registrations.

This view (below) through our room's back deck door shows

the ocean beyond (with island shore in far distance).

We could easily walk down to dip our feet in the water!

Here is Vince perched on our wood railing to take a shot

of the unique weather vane up there on the cupola. 

And here . . . 

. . . is the picture he took.

With his Vehicle Coordinator business very successfully

completed, we passed a leisurely evening, and ended up

at a Belfast town center cafe, dining out-of-doors.

Then we walked around the harbor and out onto

a few floating docks, just in time for a colorful sunset.

Here, below, is one of Vince's favorite pics from our

Belfast trip - he loved seeing the tugboats up close.

(And I love it because of the wonderful colors in this shot!)

The next day we made a more thorough walking tour

around the quay, and I was fascinated as we passed

a boat refitting and repair dockyard - of enormous proportions.

I would have loved to back up until perspective allowed

a wider view of this giant cradle hoist, but I was too near

the edge of the dock already. Can you see the large bands

(called 'slipway') that allow this mid-size cruiser to be lifted 

out of the water for transport by the rolling hoist into one of 

the dry dock 'hangar' warehouses nearby?

Curiosity took me up close to these resting plastic-protected

(to minimize weather & salt deterioration) slipway loops.

As a textiles major, I was fascinated that they are constructed

from heavy fabric and stitched into their final form!

 Here, below, you get a low view of the hoist bay

with its two roadway tracks that allow the framework to roll

out over the harbor, to flank the boat or ship waiting there --

still afloat in the water -- where the cradle strapping 

can easily pass UNDER the vessel's hull, be cranked

up to snugly cuddle the hull's specific shape, and then secured.

Next, stays and ship are hoisted up to clear the dock deck, and

the hoist maneuvered away from the bay, back onto shore

and rolled into the assigned hold where it can be enclosed

and the repair work completed. Probably everyday stuff

for folks living full-time near the ocean - ingenious to me!

Here is a commercial aerial photo showing

Front Street Shipyard. I added the green arrow showing hoist bays,

and the red arrow showing retracted cradle hoists with

a very large ship held securely aloft.

Before the shipyard discoveries that Friday, I had a different

'eye opening' experience. Those who know me

understand that the BEST parts of my day often happen

before 7 am. So when I recognized our proximity

to the shore, I checked facts and made plans to walk down

and watch my first Atlantic shore sunrise at 5:14 am.

(For any who don't want to roll the 44 sec video that follows,

here is a still preview.)

And here are the most serene moments I have

experienced while stationed here. Incredibly still water.

Magical light. Quiet lapping of the ocean at daybreak.

Shoreline in the foreground. Forested coastline in distance.

(Belfast town can be briefly seen at the end of the clip.)

Later (when Vince had arisen and I showed him

what he had missed), we prepared and traveled back northward

to the Penobscot Narrows Waldo-Hancock Bridge.

Lots more to learn and experience there.

This wonder of human cooperative construction was built

in record time to replace the vital but failing original.

That remarkable steel bridge was constructed as America's

love affair with automobiles was taking off, opening in 1931

to connect Waldo and Hancock counties.

 We had traveled along it en route back to Manchester

on previous trips, and learned later from young missionaries

that the southern pylon includes an observation tower.

Here is educational material that we read while waiting

our turn at tower's base to ride the elevator up to the top.

The cable and section engineering 

fascinated me, too.

 I would have studied the posters for longer than we

waited, especially admiring the foresight to make

the strands that compose the cables removable

and replaceable, and include the observation tower.

 This vintage artwork, below, caught my eye, and I relished

the compass rose from the 1613 drawn map,

just the kind of motif so often captured in quilt patchwork.

 Here is the observation deck inlaid floor compass rose,

and beyond the stair railings (and through the glass enclosure)

the partial view of the town beyond.

 My third picture of Vince taking a picture is from the deck,

viewing Bucksport town in the distance,

across the serene Penobscot (a native American word).

And finally, the panorama itself.

Self-confession: I admit that as I read the promotional

online information about the bridge and the trip up

the tower, comments raised concerns for my usual anxiety

at the height of the view. But in the end, I summoned up

visions of granddaughter Baylynn, who despite "being little"

(her own description), does very fearless things,

like riding the California Screamer roller coaster.

If Bayla could do that, I could do this.

So, being up there to capture Vince shooting the shoreline

is my own "height of accomplishment", so to speak.

There has been an abundance of BLUE in the collection

of images shared here. Blue water, blue sky.

Here, at the end, is a hydrangea cluster.

I may never get used to seeing them so abundantly here.

They seem rare and exotic to this visitor from Utah

and the arid West (though I know some who grow them there).

If we were chatting together, I might inquire of you:

what things do YOU do that take courage

or which inspire you - leading to your own 

heights of accomplishment?
This week, please take time to recognize
how wonderful and brave you are.

Happy Middle-of-August!

Lower Lights Be Burning

My entry today seems extra fitting, for a blog which chronicles

"oil in our lamps". I will share our small but valued adventures

as we "collected" lighthouse vistas along Maine's coast.

But to begin, I share nature's "fairy lights" of cheeriness.

My preamble on lamp-filling moments begins with a rare, special

"unknown caller" phone visit Vince received this week

from our grandson Kale living in Marana, AZ, using

their landline phone. We forget that as our lives trace a

yearly circular track, our grandchildren are spiraling upward

at incredibly fast rates. Kale is on the brink of "tween-age".

His conversation included memories of fishing with "gramps",

and other memorable and mile-marker events for which

 he hopes they will be together, along with the usual "when will

you be able to come visit us?" question.

Elder Gramps was grinning and reflective the rest of that day!

Other noteworthy assistance came from the office Elders,

APs and newly-installed Manchester 3 Elders who helped

Vince with a fleet dilemma. Headquarters had side-stepped

Elder Warner's request to desist sending the new autos - 

eight this past week - to a dealership outside our mission.

So when the Arlington, MA car dealer reached out with moderate 

urgency, Vince scrambled to organize, coordinate schedules,

receive permissions for leaving our boundaries and for

the young Elders to drive themselves back separated

from companions. Here are the new Rav4s parked on

Manchester chapel grounds. (I would have preferred to include

the Elders in front of their cars, but we have been cautioned

to be careful with gathered group photos that might

seem to contradict local jurisdictional COVID restrictions.)

As our mission clock ticked on, getting to know Maine

became a priority. Expressive words found on one online tourism page -

"for many the world over, nothing embodies the spirit of Maine like

the image of the lighthouse keeping vigil along the rugged coast."

Plenty of subjects to explore there: Maine has 57 active lighthouses.

Our "collecting" journey began at Cape Elizabeth 

with iconic Portland Head Light, only 135 miles from Manchester.

As I shared phone images with family members, I was

given credit as a talented photographer! 

Truth is, this beauty does NOT make a bad shot!

 Henry Wadsworth Longfellow analogized that this tower was

"a pillar of fire by night, of cloud by day."  With hundreds of

thousands of visitors each year, it is considered one of the most

beautiful lighthouse locations in New England.

At closer range, below, I intentionally captured the light as it rotated,

which is referred to as "lamp", housed in the "lantern"

or glass protective enclosure.

George Washington appointed the first keeper here.
(Keeper buildings are newer than that, of course.)

With hundreds of images available to view and download,

I wanted to be able to prove that we actually DID visit,

so we cheesed it up for this selfie in the photo below, from

the north side. (Vince's happy smile sometimes turns down.)

While visiting the Maine Maritime Museum in Bath in February,

we were able to view an exhibit there called "Into the Lantern"

which included an exhibit of this replica Fresnel (Fray-nel) lens

and reflector that illuminates the Portland Head Light.

And here are some other different types of lamps.

Originally, light houses or pharos were illuminated with fires.

Later the fuel source became oil, then acetylene, then electrical, 

then fully-automated. Incredible to consider what would be involved 

as a KEEPER, in a remote situation, in perilous conditions, 

doing the difficult work of hauling up fuel, tending grounds,

with life-and-death responsibility, requiring solitary living, 

or shared with only similarly-committed family members.

Sounds a little like our current ISOLATION.

A July visit was made to Bass Harbor Light, off the tip of

Mt. Desert Island, where Acadia National Park shares space.

This fully automated light has a red lamp and is managed by

the U.S. Coast Guard Service, like so many others. 

The keeper's living quarters

property is used to house a Coast Guard family.

 This view, below, of the lamp and lantern from the parking lot

up the hill's incline shows the red light. Each lighthouse

has its own "signature", called the characteristic,

composed of audible (accompanying bells or horns), 

visual (color, size and style of lit lamp), pattern

(flashing or speed of rotation, intermittency, pairs of lamps, etc.)

that allow mariners to identify each beacon from their ships.

The onboard catalog would assist mariners to identify

the characteristics, locations and coastal specifics.

Our excursions already proved these several lighthouses

incredibly romantic, but when I invited a few young missionaries

to share their own photos of favorites, I received this stunner, below.

(Credit to Logan Huffines, already-renown photographer here.) 

When I finally could breathe normally gain, I asked Elder Huffines

how he was able to get this ethereal shot. He described a shore trail

that begins a bit up-coast from the regular public parking lot, 

apologizing just a little for the "poor" lighting that foggy day.

Observation: seems fitting to have failing visibility in a lighthouse pic;

sometimes unpromising moments yield unanticipated blessings.

On we traveled to Rockland Breakwater Light.

Between 1881 and 1899 the granite block breakwater

was built, a pathway almost a mile long out into the bay.

A small, "temporary" beacon was moved each time

the breakwater was extended, until in 1902 the permanent

lighthouse and keeper buildings were completed at the end.

(I admit that as we walked along these stones,

my achy foot complained, but I would not have missed it.)

One travel guide suggests that this is a "pleasant walk in

good weather, but in rougher conditions, the water can

wash over the walkway, making it more difficult."

Understatement?

 The Rockland experience is a bit perplexing:

in the barrier approach, the light is hidden from view

by the beautiful, but "supporting player" keeper's quarters.

Even at the end, it was only by walking out on

the ramp to access the float (circa 2003) that Vince got

this great shot of the light. (Nervousness kept me onshore.)

 Here he is (below, in red shirt) on the "deck" shooting 

a pic of the sailboat that drifted into view.

And here is HIS picture:

(that speedboat was Coast Guard officers en route to

"pull someone over").

 Once home, I searched online (eBay) for a folk art painting 

of a lighthouse to help memorialize our adventures. Instead, 

I found and fell in love with this print of a watercolor painting

by Rob Thorpe, soon to be framed and wall-displayed in Lehi.

Evening brought us to Owl's Head Light, just a few miles

down-coast from Rockland. Coastal Living magazine

has named this as Number One among America's haunted

lighthouses. One chronicler includes "proof" with stories

of a mid-1980's encounter between an unseen "person" and

the keeper's wife Denise who thought her husband

had returned to bed after a grounds check, only to find

"an indentation" instead of husband "that moved like a body

shifting in the bed". Andy the keeper noted a "cloud" hovering

above the floor as he was leaving that "went right through me"

and into the bedroom, just about the time of Denise's encounter.

 A few years later, the young daughter of

a different keeper and his wife was assigned to stay in

an upstairs bedroom that they had been warned about as

"particularly active". All the time they lived there,

young Claire [fitting name for a keeper's daughter]

had an imaginary friend who she described as looking like

an old sea captain.

There were other accounts of footprints in the snow

beginning from no where and leading up to the tower,

or of the tower door being found unlocked, open,

and the lenses newly polished.

Online advertisements peddle the chance to

"stay a night in a lighthouse". I'll pass on this one!

Couldn't resist including this "from the sea" shot

borrowed from the internet.

The next few light houses are shared in celebration 

of Maine's many examples.

Below, this is as close as we got to Ram's Island Light,

on our puffins cruise out of Boothbay Harbor.

We also viewed Pemiquid Lighthouse on that cruise,

from a very long distance. It is renown and

iconic to the extent that it was selected for the Maine quarter.

Much could be written about the size range of lighthouses.

Below is what is sometimes referred to as 'spark plug' or

caisson tower, usually very small. This one is Bug Light

at Portland Breakwater.

 These final images were offered by office Elder Talon Smith,

who was assigned some significant time in northern Maine.

Here with its candy-cane striped tower is West Quoddy.

in Lubec, Maine.

 And his final shot, finger-framed from a distance

(likely because this may be outside mission boundaries)

is Wilson's Beach Light at Brunswick, Canada.

Our lighthouse journey helped us come to know Maine

much better. We have fallen in love with more of New England.

My creative wish list has included for some time designing 

and building my own lighthouse. Anticipating on-location

inspiration, I put it off til now. Below is my final project,

constructed of card stock (paper) and glue, with wooden peg rack

vent pipe and ball, and a tea light "lamp", standing 14" tall.

ONE more, below: 

a moonlit night, this one of Marshall Light, 

by professional photographer Adam Woodworth.

All our lighthouse visits were made in great summer weather,

with daylight and safety. But more important is it to remember that

each lighthouse represents a saga that began with mariner danger,

a need to provide navigational guidance, protect ships and save lives.

*   *   *   *   *

In late March, young Sister Thomas cited a family experience during

an Alaska fishing trip to illustrate the ZOOM devotional topic that day. 

Fog had rolled in and they felt lost at sea. When they detected a light

emanating from an onshore cabin, they followed the light to safety.

The next morning, they hiked to the cabin with a question:

how did you know WE needed your light." The lady resident

responded, "I didn't know YOU needed it, but I do know that

when the fog rolls in so thick, there will be SOMEONE at sea

who needs my light."

Vocalists reading this - especially the men - may recognize the post

title as an allusion to "Brightly Beams Our Father's Mercy",

a hymn at the back of the current Church of Jesus Christ
of Latter-Day Saints hymnal.

The poetry of songwriter Philip Paul Bliss

(contemporary to many of the landmarks featured here)

captures the love and care represented in each lighted beacon:

Brightly beams our Father's mercy

From his lighthouse evermore,

But to us he gives the keeping

Of the lights along the shore.

Let the lower lights be burning,

Send a gleam across the wave,

Some poor fainting, struggling [loved one]

You may rescue, you may save.

Continually feeling grateful for our ministering

brothers and sisters who watch out and care for us,

for those we love, and toward whom we may be reaching

across a distance.

Who will YOUR light reach this week?