At 3:50 am Friday morning, I was standing in the parking lot of the Workshop residences waiting for my ride. The moon was high, the darkness still and quiet. It has been years since I was outside at that time of the morning. I was riding with Paula, Nancy and John to Marshall Point, near Port Clyde, to shoot photos at sunrise.As we neared Marshall Point, about 40 minutes later, pink was showing along the horizon. We wondered if we would get to Marshall Point before the sun broke over the horizon. About 15 minutes from our destination, we were all struck by the rosy glow that suffused a cove we passed. In unison, we decided to stop and shoot some images there, in the event that we didn't reach Marshall Point by dawn. It was a real Workshop moment. Paula pulled her car over to the side of the empty stretch of rural road and the four of us piled out, grabbed our cameras, scouted out a vantage point and started shooting.

The sun was still below the horizon when we climbed back in the car and we quickly finished the drive to Marshall Point. Other class members were already set up in the parking lot and along the line of rocks when we arrived. We joined them, just in time to take some images as the sun rose over the delicate line separating bay and sky - throwing a spreading glow of light over the water, silhouetting the trees and rocks and changing the tones from rose to warm golden as the sun started to ascend. It was very quiet. We could hear the water rolling in over the rocks below, the calls of a few sea birds and the click of shutters as we all sought to capture the moment.
A lot of the images, when viewed later, looked similar — differences of angle, height, lens length and sharpness. But more than the images, the moment was meaningful because we had gathered together, in the still of a Maine morning with cameras in hand, to witness the rising of the sun.
We gathered our equipment and headed down to Port Clyde, where we waited for the cook in the General Store to start making breakfast and to buy our ferry tickets to Monhegan Island. Port Clyde started to come to life with lobster fisherman loading traps, boats starting their morning journeys out into the bay and people arriving for the ferry.
The first ferry at 7 am was actually the mail packet. It was a 45 minute ride across Penobscot Bay to Monhegan Island, a small, rocky island about 12 miles from the nearest mainland. Monhegan is barely a square mile in area and accessible only by boat. According to Wickipedia, the name Monhegan derives from Monchiggon, Algonqian for "out-to-sea island." The island was known to Native Americans as a "prime fishing area;" today the island's economy is still based on those who make their living from the sea.
We gathered our equipment and headed down to Port Clyde, where we waited for the cook in the General Store to start making breakfast and to buy our ferry tickets to Monhegan Island. Port Clyde started to come to life with lobster fisherman loading traps, boats starting their morning journeys out into the bay and people arriving for the ferry.
The first ferry at 7 am was actually the mail packet. It was a 45 minute ride across Penobscot Bay to Monhegan Island, a small, rocky island about 12 miles from the nearest mainland. Monhegan is barely a square mile in area and accessible only by boat. According to Wickipedia, the name Monhegan derives from Monchiggon, Algonqian for "out-to-sea island." The island was known to Native Americans as a "prime fishing area;" today the island's economy is still based on those who make their living from the sea.
The explorer John Smith visited Monhegan Island in 1614. The island first served as a British fishing camp before becoming a settlement of the Plymouth Colony. Cod was harvested from the rich fishing grounds of the Gulf of Maine, dried on fish flakes (fish drying platforms) and then shipped to Europe.A conical stone lighthouse was built on the island in 1824, by order of Congress and President James Monroe. The original lighthouse, damaged by storms, was replaced in 1850 by the current 48 ft. granite tower. When we visited, the lighthouse tower was surrounded by scaffolding for restoration. But the lighthouse and surrounding buildings are beautifully sited atop Lighthouse Hill. The Monhegan Island Light was converted to solar power in 1995 and is still an active aid to navigation.
When we landed in the harbor area, everyone grabbed an island trail map and started off to explore the island. Some of the class participants stayed close to the harbor, relaxing in the Adirondack chairs perched on the hill above the harbor. Hardier souls hiked around the island to the opposite shore and some of us followed paths through Cathedral Woods. Tall trees, their branches forming arches over the trails, carpet the ground with needles and provide shelter for ferns, wildflowers and mosses. In shaded glens, fairy houses hug the bases of the trees - intricate constructions of pine cones, wood bark and found objects.
The ferry was scheduled to depart at 12:30; we headed back, with memories of a beautiful morning on Monhegan Island. Our afternoon critique was scheduled for around 2:30. Claire pulled together all the images for our final, full class critique. (There would be another critique on Saturday morning but a few of us had to leave early to make travel connections.). After the critique of varied and lovely images of the Olson House, Pemaquid, dawn at Marshall Point and even some of the recently taken Monhegan images, we headed up the Main Street hill to the Workshop's Friday night lobster dinner. We enjoyed delicious, fresh caught Maine lobsters (and you can taste the difference), stuffed Portobello mushrooms, steamed corn, salad, and fresh strawberry shortcake while talking about camera lenses, beautiful locations to shoot and plans to keep in touch.As the lobster dinner finished up, we returned borrowed equipment, picked up prints from the Image center and found seats in the theater for the evening show. The class instructors, teacher's assistants and the staff of the Workshop had assembed a two-hour, professional video presentation, with great music, to highlight the work of the all of the courses during the week. Amazing work by many talented people — all produced during an intensive, creative week. Around 10 pm, I thanked Alison and Claire for a wonderful week, said goodbye to as many of the Colors class members as I could find in the crowd and drove back to the Schooner Inn. I packed, set the alarm for 6 am and fell asleep, exhilarated and exhausted. You can view additional photos from Friday here.
By 6:30 am on Saturday, I was on the road, heading to Boston to return the rental car and catch my mid-afternoon flight to Chicago. My mind was full of all I had seen and experienced and the wonderful people I had met and worked with. I was inspired to return to Illinois and continue on my photographic journey to see the world in new ways, mindfully.




About 11, we broke into two groups. Alison and Claire had arranged for us to go to the Rockport Marine, right down the hill from the Union Hall, for an hour shooting time in the facility. Rockport Marine is a working yard for the construction and restoration of wooden boats. We were allowed into the shop where three boats were in various stages of restoration. This was another fairly low light situation, but a tripod was a bit of a hinderence in the tight confines of the facility. One of the boats under restoration was stripped down to its ribs and painted in the traditional bright orange, lead-based sealing paint. Those colors, plus the woodworking tools, the sweep of a boat hull up in drydock, the open bay doors, the workers in their overalls and protective hardhats, the boat's ribs, even the smells of wood shavings made it a fascinating place to explore for interesting photos that illustrated the art of wooden boat building.
In the late afternoon, we drove up to Camden to shoot images at the local Farmers' Market. There weren't a lot of stalls but the farmers who manned the booths that were there generously allowed us close access: there was a green veggies farmers with "skapes," curly beans, cabbages, etc.; an aromatic bakery with fat loaves covered in rosemary; a local goat cheese dairy with a cheese and berry "torte;" a mushroom farmer, flowers, baskets and a 31-year strawberry farmer — or as he said it "fahmah." We took plenty of images and bought some of the offerings.
The drive up Rt.1 until it intersected with I95 was interesting … all commercial and retail, narrow two lanes each side, fast drivers or wandering over the lane drivers. Once on I95, driving was smooth up through Massachusetts, New Hampshire (I was in the state for about 25 minutes) into Portland. There I took a little side trip to Cape Elizabeth (in liu of lunch … I was grateful I'd eaten breakfast before my car rental adventure). Cape Elizabeth is home to Fort Williams and the Portland Head Light.
There were crowds of people all around the city, as well as street bands and performers. Also, there was quite a bit of imbibing going on. Using a Charlie Card, I hopped on the "T" and went down to Faneuil Hall and Quincy Market.