Introduction

One day in 1979, a friend told me The Waldoboro Weekly was looking for someone to write a Gardening column. “You’re a gardener,” he said. “They have an office right upstairs. I think you’re their man.”

 “Upstairs” was the 2nd floor above my wife, Susan’s, Maine Coast Book Shop. I was at a floundering point in my life and figured “What the hell. I like to write. Why not?” So, I went upstairs and, just like that, became a weekly columnist. Only problem was, I quickly decided I didn’t want to be confined to just Gardening. After a couple of weeks, I branched out and started writing about anything that struck my fancy. It worked – they let me do it. I named my column View from the Clearing – that was what we called our old place, a clearing in the woods with a small meadow and a vibrant, marshy pond. And it was only a brief walk down to the shore of the Damariscotta River. Long story short, I was surrounded with a huge wealth of inspiration to keep the ink flowing.

 Then, just 30 weeks into my new sideline career, The Waldoboro Weekly folded. Uh oh. But then, by chance, at a dinner party, I met the publishers of The Coastal Journal, and once again was hired to write their weekly column for the op-ed page. This time around, I decided to call it Observations and, without skipping a beat, just kept on doing what I’d been doing – anything I felt like.

 An example of the freedom I was granted was a column titled “The Art of Swearing.” To be safe, I made it a fill-in-the-blanks piece. It was a hell of a lot of fun to write. I took some flak, as expected, but readers mostly liked it. The only piece the Journal ever refused to print was called “No More War?” (included in this collection) – about the 1st Gulf War.

 Sometime in the early 1980’s, serendipity struck again, again via Susan’s bookshop. She received a letter from Maine Public Radio (MPBN); they were seeking essayists for their “Maine Things Considered” broadcast. I mailed them a packet of sample pieces. They struck on the first cast! Suddenly I was reading my stuff on the radio and actually getting paid a little something. I can’t recommend highly enough what a beneficial experience that can be for a budding writer. I think it made me a better writer, earned me a bit of notoriety, and it was a lot of fun. Over the years, I read around 200 pieces for them.

 It was probably 1993 when I switched to a new newspaper, The Lincoln County Weekly. I stayed with them until 1998 or so, when I finally succumbed to other commitments and had to give up my weekly column. It had been about a twenty-year run during which I had all the freedom and inspiration I needed to expound on the beautiful, rich environment around me, childhood memories, family and friends, beloved animals, building a new home, occasionally opining on public issues, on and on. What I ended up with, if nothing else, was a pretty good family album. This is it.