This is a (twin) town of several lived in on our Maine adventure, this one suggested as a possibility for us. We lived first in Mexico, Maine. (Yes!) Beside this town where jobs might conceivably be found to support our household should one appear. A household did in fact appear.
Here I am with my gnarly friend. Can you tell which is me, and which the tree?
This is R’s capture of the tree itself. I would come to this downtown-side park next the river to study, write, and maybe sketch, awaiting the opening of the Library. The police and courthouse were conveniently across the street in case Mother-nature called while I was scribbling away at coursework for the undergraduate degree at UMF.
Taken from the lower Library parking lot, here is the picturesque version of the mill where R. was eventually hired. It’s picturesque because nearly invisible from this angle among the yet leafless trees. Note its thin industrial spires beyond the bridge. Our April is generally your midwestern March, yet full of reddening twigs. (But now snowing all day today.) The community is fortunate that #12 machine is running once again.
This falls-side park also has it shadows… of the Pennacook Falls Native American campsite.