The Maine
An artful dialogue about the wonders of the state.

Tag: wind

Cold As A Dog And The Wind Northeast

from Maine Lingo: Boiled Owls, Billdads, & Wazzats by John Gould COLD AS A DOG AND THE WIND NORTHEAST: A most excellent term to show the magic and charm with which Mainers adorn their speech, and the title of a book by Ruth Moore. There is nothing in God’s great world so cold as a short-haired dog faithfully sitting […]

Wind, Leaves

haiku by Kristen Lindquist A big animal wind flushes the leaves. We have no control.

Bluster

photographs and haikus by Kristen Lindquist Friends shelter from gusts, gulls spreading overhead– stiff winds, cocktails.

Wild About Wild Weather

photograph and text by Karen Zimmerman Hurricane Arthur was modest by storm standards, but still not your everyday weather. Our hurricane season is officially from 1 June to 30 November, but storms of official hurricane size do not happen every year. I was born during Hurricane Hazel, back when all hurricanes were female, and when […]

Dark

poem by Dave Morrison I’ve been listening to the dark for hours. At first it was fine sand sifting over old stones, then warm wind through a rusted screen, then heavy mist falling on the roof of a convertible. The night was an aquarium filled with stones, each one a worry, and the sound of […]

Autumn

poem by Dave Morrison The wind hisses through the trees like a great dark snake coiling around the house, patient and cool. The green leaves of summer are rattling brown husks, ghosts crouch on roof ridges and gnaw acorns, the dim glow of the streetlights looks like the lights of a sinking ship. “Let go,” […]

Which They All Promptly Did

via Overheard In Portland Father, to sons: “Now lift up your arms, and let the wind rush into your armpits!” (Overheard by DM in front of the Nickelodeon)

We All Have Our Reasons: #2013.168

photograph by Karen Hansen poem by Dave Morrison Today Normally I think of the sun as a single fiery entity but today it has broken into two million golden pieces many of which are floating on the surface of the bay. Conversely, I often think of the wind as a series of breaths, yet today […]

Maine Farmland Trust