For Thanksgiving I went home to Maine and while I swore I wouldn’t travel again during the holidays, it always feels good to be there. I am always suprised by the silence of the town where my parents live and Portland is always smaller and colder than I remember. It’s hard to imagine I spent so much of my adolesnce hanging out there and feeling busy (and now I return to take pictures like this one of typically “Maine” things). But I’ve found I have a love for brick, cobblestone, wind in pine trees and the smell of salt water, all things which Maine and my many years there gave me. There’s a set on flickr, if you click on this photo you can get to it.