Of building bridges… and sheep

(Nov 16 2:14 p.m.)

“The hardest thing in life is to know which bridge to cross and which to burn.” —David Russell

Yeah, okay, so that quote doesn’t quite apply here, lol.  I’m not known for burning bridges, literal or otherwise.  I don’t forget people.  My memory may not be 100%, but I still remember faces, even if the names escape me.  Every once and a while a regret may pop up in my head over broken connections and bad impressions… but those things are a part of life.

On the literal side of things, a new bridge was recently built to replace an old one and make way for new power lines, here in Nowhere, Maine.  (Buxton, to be precise.)  It was the Bar Mills Bridge, built in 1936, that had to go.  The green bridge, which closed July 11, is still being dismantled…

New beside old. (Nov 16 2:13 p.m.)

Large trucks (above a certain weight) were not permitted to use the old bridge, for obvious reasons.  (Eighty years old.)

Side view, across. (Nov 16 2:13 p.m.)
Side view, across. (Nov 16 2:13 p.m.)

The new one was completed in November— a contract of 120 days.

Welding sparks in the distance. (Nov 16 2:14 p.m.)
Sparks in the distance. (Nov 16 2:14 p.m.)

On the metaphorical side, I have a real problem at building my own bridges.  An Aspie who fell out of love with life, connecting with people has always been hard.  But I must build.  No man is an island.  We must grow to live.  At least professionally, we need relationships.  Of course, there’s always some pain in the process, some kind of labor.  And when a bridge fails, it can take part(s) of you down with it… But we need to exercise the right muscles; we need to try to repair and move on.  Sometimes we can manage without a bridge somewhere, but every so often we must rebuild.

(Nov 16 2:17 p.m.)

All of us come and go in our own time, and none of us are the same.  What was sweet is bound to turn sour, so we must accept facts and learn to move on— forgive when it is time.  Easier said than done sometimes.  But if we can, in fact, never forget someone who no longer needs us… then why try to hold on if we’ll always remember?

(Nov 16 2:15 p.m.)

Soon after crossing that new literal bridge over Saco River, and for the first time, my mother spotted some sheep.  Or, at least they appear to be sheep…

(Nov 16 2:16 p.m.)
Horned.  The images I came across for bighorns didn’t quite look like these.  They can’t all be rams, can they? (Nov 16 2:16 p.m.)

She pulled over.  It was quite sudden, but there was no traffic.  And so I took the opportunity; I crossed the road, and approached the fence.  And they, the sheep, were excited.  They may have expected food (from strangers), considering they rose to see me.  Needless to say, there was no intellectual conversation to be had.  I said “hello,” and one of them immediately pooed.  They all gradually turned their heads away.  …Again, I’m not known for connecting very well with others.  Noticing the dropping of “malted milk balls,” I said “okay,” and moved on to the other side of the barn. …And I’m sorry if I’ve caused you to never eat Whoppers® again.

(Nov 16 2:17 p.m.)

On the other side of the barn, I got some baas.  Click here for a video.

I could go into the metaphors of being a “sheep” and “don’t be like a sheep to the slaughter,” and stuff like that, but… nah.  (Or na’ah’ah…)  We’re all on our way to some place, and it’s not really my place to tell you, dear reader, what to think.  I can, however, ask you to be honest with yourself, in good reason and good health.

Well, I got a lot of backlog of reading and writing to tend to.  Until next time…

(Nov 20 3:03 p.m.)

Final leaves of fall

(Nov 20 4:01 p.m.)
(Nov 20 4:01 p.m.)

It’s now the last month for the season.  Most of the leaves have hit ground, and what remain of them are brown.  The only greens I can see now are of moss and pines.

(Nov 20 4:00 p.m.)

Notably, I still see some crisp, brown leaves…

(Nov 15 3:38 p.m.)
(Nov 15 3:38 p.m.)

…that remind me of those leaves I saw back in April Continue reading Final leaves of fall

Boldly going where one man hasn’t gone before…

(Nov 15 3:54 p.m.)

So, the last time I hit the trail near the house, on the day Maine-native Anna Kendrick’s Scrappy Little Nobody was scheduled to be released, I discovered another path connected to the large clearing.  The first time I visited the clearing, it was starting to get dark (around sunset, plus rain) and I was only passing through, so I missed this path.

The precipitation had begun to pick up again Tuesday, so I put on my L.L. Bean cap.  There was a noticeable decline in elevation, before hitting a split… or fork.  Or…

(Nov 15 3:55 p.m.)

…a Snickers® box (on a branch).

“Packed with peanuts, SNICKERS® really satisfies”®
The yellow ink’s completely faded, making the caramel look alien and the peanuts look like pills or something. (Nov 15 3:55 p.m.)

Like before, I went left first.  It’s hard to say the neighbor kids would be wanting to venture down this area on small motor vehicles… Continue reading Boldly going where one man hasn’t gone before…

Paths undiscovered

(Nov 6 1:22 p.m.)
Intense colors. (Nov 6 1:22 p.m.)

There may be an infinite number of things we can do or ways to do them in life, but we only walk the paths we are ready to walk.  We are not meant to walk them all.  Or even see them all.

Sometimes we can become so buried in our work that we lose parts of the big picture.  We can busy ourselves to exhaustion or pretend to avoid confrontation or danger (such as having a smartphone in front of us, or earbuds in to bore others), or to avoid pain… But life isn’t meant to be lived in a bubble.  We are meant to feel, and do what scares us every now and then.  We aren’t ants or plants; we are human beings.

(Nov 5 1:24 p.m.)

Now, if there’s anyone who’s lived under a rock, it’s me.  And I mean, I have nothing, nada, zip figured out from experience.  The main reason why I can’t really write a novel is because my own living story is so empty.  I am Exhibit A for someone who hasn’t done anything with his life.

Going up?  Sorry, no. (Nov 5 4:51 p.m.)

However, since 2012, I have opened up to opportunity quite a bit. …Of course my methods have been awful as opportunity most always doesn’t return my calls.  I’ve been reaching out to strangers, sometimes with my heart on my sleeve.  Lots of failure.

(Nov 10 4:49 p.m.)
(Nov 10 4:49 p.m.)

Still, the people I’ve met these past four years have changed my life in ways big and small.  I’m trying new things, attempting to socialize more, even if the results are not great.  The Saturday group, for example— I learned things I couldn’t have possibly learned not going. Continue reading Paths undiscovered


(Nov 11 7:32 p.m.)
(Nov 11 7:32 p.m.)

The shock of the national election results hasn’t completely worn off.  And for once, I’m sure I’m not alone… a lot of people shocked.  And with some similarity to Brexit: failing to represent a significant amount of the country was pivotal as to why it went down the way it did.  In order to know what’s going on, you can’t plug your ears and rely solely on previous election data.  You have to, you know, actually listen to ordinary people.

All year, I was so disgusted with Trump that I avoided cable news to avoid him.  But as November closed in, I found MSNBC— and the articles they sourced— a relief.  (And if you know me at all, you know I don’t like partisan news.)  The network consistently “took down” a person I couldn’t stand, and through all my reading I got to know the real Donald… too well.

Fast forward to Nov 8, I voted.  Not being much informed on local issues or candidates, I didn’t recognize most of the names on the ballot… But it should be obvious to anyone who regularly reads this blog as to who I voted for, for President.  I was also a bit of a dummy, interested in signing a petition… while unintentionally standing in the way of people wanting to pass by me to leave.

After that, I went directly home, and soon thereafter slept off the day.  Come nightfall, distracted and missing the ‘reality’ I had in 2015, I went over old stuff I kept of my friends and social media, refreshing my memory of what was and who’s who, compared to now… how these days feel less real.  By 3 a.m., in the motions of turning off, I went to the TV, and checked the news.  I read the headline on the bottom of the screen… Continue reading Change

And the path I took…

(Nov 3 5:22 p.m.)

With so many trees, come so many leaves in the fall.  And varying shades of blue from the bluish rain clouds are seen in the water collected on such leaves.

(Nov 3 5:26 p.m.)
(Nov 3 5:26 p.m.)

Because it was raining Thursday, I didn’t expect anyone to be out.  That helped as far as my courage went, in case I actually was trespassing… Our southern neighbor kids (now adults) have driven small vehicles down this path.  Now, from all the seasonal winds, there are plenty of fallen branches to dodge.  And, like the woods at Crescent Beach park, some of the ground was mushy.

Half past five, the sun was setting, and… it was my first time down this way, so I didn’t catch any small clearing areas along the path.  (I wasn’t really paying attention anyway.)  But eventually, I reached a large clearing.

(Nov 3 5:32 p.m.)
(Nov 3 5:32 p.m.)

An intersection of a clearing.  Two visible paths, ahead and to my left… and a metal folding chair to the right. Continue reading And the path I took…


A path less taken…

(Oct 30 4:07 p.m.)

So things are moving now, somewhat.  Life-wise, a few windows are visible, and maybe a door or two will open for me.

Very blue skies this Halloween; only some clouds to the west. (Oct 31 3:10 p.m.)

But it takes action for things to actually move, and personally asking questions to know what the heck I’m looking at, let alone know what I’m doing…

Rain a’comin’. (Nov 2 3:26 p.m.)

And so, I am moving.  Not moving out for good (as I should), but moving my feet, and throwing caution to the wind.  Just a bit. …I managed to “capture” two of the blue flies I’ve seen hanging around the front yard, this fall…

(Nov 2 3:29 p.m.)

Continue reading A path less taken…

Entering the Castle…

On Monday, I finally visited the Tiqa Café & Bakery… you know, the little castle in Deering Oaks that became a little restaurant?

(Oct 17 4:42 p.m.)

The previous time my mother and I visited the park, the place was closed for some reason.  This time, we were only late for the hot sandwiches.

Here is some proof of the experience.

(Oct 17 4:41 p.m.)
Bakery items… and adult beverage list. (Oct 17 4:41 p.m.)

Continue reading Entering the Castle…


The leaves, they are a-changin’

Portland. (Oct 17 4:08 p.m.)

As suspected, the leaves have already changed color in Deering Oaks park.

Scarborough. (Oct 17 12:59 p.m.)

All over the state (and country), of course.  Approaching one month into the season, plenty of pine cones are still up (or were), as you can see:

Deering Oaks park. (Oct 17 4:10 p.m.)
(Oct 17 4:23 p.m.)
(Oct 17 4:23 p.m.)

And the berries…

(Oct 17 4:23 p.m.)
Crescent Beach park. (Oct 20 2:31 p.m.)

Yeah, some have begun to shrivel up… Continue reading The leaves, they are a-changin’