Reflections of the Button Factory

Summer 2018 I have been fortunate enough to have been invited to stay at the old button factory in Waldoboro, Maine.

Its been an adventure staying in my "little 2 room cabin", nestled between 2 expansive wings of history, both the Oh if these walls could talk variety, and the I can not tell you how many, books on various floors varieties.

The bird's melodies at dawn stir me into existence, in sharp contrast to the machines of the city roaring, honking, sputtering catapulting unnatural vibrations into the epicenter of my brain complemented by the Medomak River flowing at the edge of the property.

The boat landing is just across the way, offering a fly on the wall observation point of life living and working on and with, the brackish, tidal river.

I could walk around and take pictures for days. So many little ever evolving scenes. For example, the first month I woke to a field of buttercups shining in the morning sun.

Since then the field has evolved to wildflowers, some taller than me, teeny tiny daisy-like ones, petite pink blossoms, and an orange splash here and there, adding just the right details to the seemingly endless, vibrant, shades of green soothing my soul after leaving the brutality of living in a city habitat rich in unforgiving cement.