Here’s our December Room With a View column from Down East Magazine.

It’s not especially seasonal, but I don’t think that faith, or any of what Philip writes about in this one, ever really goes fully out of season.

Maine’s Down East magazine started in 1954 and from the beginning has offered Room With a View, a column that is revered here in the Pine Tree state.

Some exceptionally fine writers have shared their thoughts in over 700 Room With a View columns and it’s a great honor to share with you the news that my dear friend, Philip Conkling, and I are now the columnists filling some very large shoes. We’re really enjoying being able to – once again – pair our shared “view” of life in Maine and beyond.

It was a ripper of a day to be out and about and there were dire warnings and stern counsel to NOT be outside for this one. I, of course, ignored them…

And as we all now round into a long-sought safe harbor that brings hope of peace and time to repair our ship, the COVID tempest still rages and we must now fully lean into our hope and faith to see us through to a safe holding ground from that.

In this past year I came across one of the loveliest quotes that has ever found me; from Rabindranath Tagore, “Faith is the bird that feels the light and sings when the dawn is still dark.”

I have that taped to my computer and I see it every day…it never ceases to get me. My, my, my…how I wish I could craft an image that pure.

Our seemingly everlasting summer has broken and it’s cold and wet out there today. Yes, we’re heading into more darkness, but always, always there’s light.

Yes, another “recycled” hug from Maine. I continue to promise you new images but it’s still very, very busy here and I’ve scarcely had a moment to look at the new work I have been making this summer. 

There are still a few of the intoxicatingly fragrant rosa rugosa blossoms left on a few of the wild rose bushes out on some of the islands. I find them — now, more than ever — a potent reminder for all of us to literally stop to smell the roses in the midst of our ever busy days.

Dear Friends, It’s the strangest feeling, this recycling I am doing with my “hugs from Maine" from a year ago; I sort of consider them a thin slice of personal history as well as a look back at much larger forces.  I feel a deep relief and sense...