The Places Between 13
Frances Perkins National Monument
Summer is here, the rain is mostly holding off, and I am back on the road exploring the beautiful state of Maine. Usually, when I visit somewhere for work, the location’s greatest attraction is its view of the water. This was not the case at Frances Perkins National Monument. Of course, the views of the water were lovely and well-earned after a sweaty trek under the hot sun, but what really stopped me in my tracks was the open field full of lupines.
Lupines are common in Maine, and I grew up reading the book Miss Rumphius a.k.a. “The Lupine Lady” just to have some other people come and dash my childhood innocence with claims of her encouraging invasive species. Unfortunately, there’s some truth to that. Lupines are listed as a potentially invasive plant with need to monitor, so I’ll just continue my good work documenting their gorgeous hues of pinks and purples at this location.
One non-coastal location I visited was the Head Tide Dam in Alna. A quaint little spot just off a relatively quiet road provided a nice spot to sit and watch the water fall beneath the dam. If I was maybe a couple weeks earlier, I might have seen the alewife run. Alewives are sea run fish that swim from the ocean to fresh water for spawning. Dams like the Head Tide Dam made this particularly difficult, blocking their passage and putting the species in danger. However, many dams including the Head Tide Dam have been modified to make the alewives’ passage easier. The Sheepscot river, which this dam is on, and the Damariscotta river in particular have become popular places for seeing these migrating fish during May.
Speaking of fish, I spent one rainy Saturday at Portland’s annual Walk the Working Waterfront event. I had the best volunteer location, under a tent that was desperately trying to blow away and next to a fishy artist. Nate Garrett, the man stationed next to me, was helping people practice the Japanese art of gyotaku. “Gyo” means “fish” and “taku” means “to press” or “to rub.” Nate helped people paint fish and press their image onto the free canvas bags I handed them. The art has existed since the 1800s as a way to record one’s fishing catch without the use of cameras. One man joked, fishermen have always been taking pictures of their fish.
Before I left Portland’s big event, I swung by the Coast Guard’s station to take a look at their cutter. The cutter is just one type of ship, and for someone who likes being on boats so much, I know very little about them. This cutter in particular was on the smaller side but had a lot of weight and a bow designed to break up to 2 feet of thick ice. During the winter, even Maine’s tidal waters fall victim to the terrible ice, and the ships like this slowly sail up and down the harbor to clear the way for all other ships.
Last year, I took a boat to Burnt Island, and I’d like to get on another moving boat sometime this year. In the meantime, the closest I’ll get is waiting in the road for them. Yes, that’s right. While driving through South Bristol, I had to practice my patience while the road lifted up to make space for a boat. I’ve driven over drawbridges before, but I never got to see one lift up. I’ve waited for deer, turtles, turkeys, and squirrels during my drives, but not a boat. I found the experience quite fascinating, completely in awe of the ability to lift an entire bridge on an angle. Sometimes it’s easy for me to become so engrossed with the horizon that I forget how cool the road I’m driving on is too.