I've already been to Paris, I already been to Rome
And what did I do but miss my home?
I have been out west to Californ'.
But I miss the land where I was born.
I can't help it.
Dum-de-dum-de-dum-dum-da-dum-day
Oh, New England.
Dum-de-dum-de-dum-dum-da-dum-day
Oh, New England.
I have seen old Israel's arid plain.
It's very pretty, but so's Maine.
Dum-de-dum-de-dum-dum-da-dum-day
Oh, New England.
Dum-de-dum-de-dum-dum-da-dum-day
Oh, New England.
- Jonathan Richman
The morning after Sylvia’s wedding, my parents and I set off for Harpswell, Maine, where they now own a house. I’m very glad that they do because it makes them very happy, which makes me very happy. I love Maine and I’m glad that Maine is now part of home.
I love Maine. I love wet black rock, black trunk of white pine,
green needles blue sky.
Blue green teal water - white surf white salt white gray black barnacles.
Red seaweed black mermaids purse, green brown red mud kelp.
Granite gray.
Yellow of fishermen and women in foul weather gear.
Silver gray wood - weathered lobster traps. Faded red green blue orange yellow white buoy bobbing.
Frothing sea green – frosted sea glass. Old glass buoys with bubbled glass: wavy glass - waves crash.
Opalescent lavender cupped in empty mussel shells – wampum.
Sharp shriek – seagulls. Giant barn owl – “who cooks for you?”
Sometimes bats. Ugly moose sound irritated.
Salty sharp sea water. Sweet lobster. Fried clams.
Butter, home made jam. Quiet.
Salted sea breeze, salty people
practical, grounded
old houses, old places
old land
well rooted
The first half of these photos are some of the hundreds taken by Erika last year while visiting Harpswell, ME. The second half are by your truly.
