With the sun higher in the sky, mercifully melting the foot or more of snow much of Maine has experienced per storm, a quick look at the calendar indicates that spring, or at least the vernal equinox, is less than three weeks away.
Although the snow melting off the roof sounds like sap dripping from a spile, it is still too cold for the sap to run just yet. More than likely the equinox will come and go with only a gesture in the direction of real spring. We're getting ready by digging down from the eaves to the windows encased in the drifted snow below.
I grew up on a Maine island. Close friends might say, "Don't stray too far. There may be some more growing up to do." Years passed. The tides rose and fell, and I finally settled on the mainland where, as luck would have it, I was invited to go lobster fishing. (Thank you "Red," Phil, Walter, Arthur, and Aubrey!)
For more than a decade I learned that being a part-time lobster fisherman is a full-time job. I also learned that the only time lobstering was romantic, for