It’s been a while since I’ve posted photos (or anything else) here, so I thought I’d share a handful of edited cell phone shots from our recent visit to Laurel Hill Cemetery in Saco, Maine. It’s a lovely space, and is one of the nicest and most open and community-friendly cemeteries I’ve ever been to. I’m looking forward to visiting in the spring. I’m sure it’s beautiful.
In my mind, cemeteries look their best in black and white and on film, but I am clearly not in practice. I would absolutely love to take our land camera here in the warmer weather, when there is more usable light. There is something to be said for snowy late afternoon shadows, however.
If you are so inclined, take a detour to my post on how to make a gravestone rubbing. ♥
McCoy has been adjusting to his new surroundings ever-so-slowly (which I suppose is how he accomplishes most things). We’ve been trying to take him outside a few times a week, since he was never able to venture out too much at my apartment in Dover. He sits very still in the grass for quite a long while, but once his confidence surfaces, he’s off like a shot. I’ve read about people tying balloons to their pet torts so they can more easily keep track of them outside, and I can understand why. Once he’s finally in motion, he’s a speed demon. I think once the landscape of the backyard become permanent memory, his initial wait time will lessen and he will be less hesitant to venture out.
Tortoises and other reptiles aren’t for everyone, and require a lot of very specific care. That being said, torts do make great pets. Each animal has its own distinct personality, and despite not being particularly cuddly (he does like pats), McCoy is actually really great company. Tj has had McCoy for most of his life, and we believe that he’s probably in his late twenties. Tortoises can very easily outlive their owners! Russian tortoises like McCoy can grow to be around 8 to 10 inches long, but some captive tortoise species grow to be much larger. Please feel free to leave a comment if you have any questions!
Yesterday I was reminded that I do not visit Vermont as often as I should(/need). A day is never enough, especially when the sun is shining and everything is green. And while I am happy here on the Maine seacoast (this certainly feels like home), there is nothing quite like the Densmore homestead.
A number of these shots are Timothy’s.
The above photograph is from my 2002 high school photography class. The exterior of the barn has lost some paint since then, for sure, and it seems my father is forever patching the roof. When he was young, the top floor was home to chickens. Some of the nesting boxes and metal feeders still remained when I was little, though I haven’t ventured to the upper levels in many years. This barn is such a huge part of my childhood landscape. It’s impossible to imagine it not occupying that space.
Before we left, I shared with my niece (who, by the way, is one of the coolest small people I know) that this little copse of birch trees is one of my favorite places. There is magic there. It is the place I will always return to.
See you again soon, Achenmead West.
Thanks for stopping by. My name is Naomi, and this space is made of girldust. This blog is a picture of my comfortably scattered life on the coast of Maine. I'm trying to be a slightly better version of myself every day. I like old houses, reading, the ocean, ghost stories, and museums. You can learn a little bit more about me here. Follow along elsewhere, or get in touch: