One of my favorite places in Ocean Park, Maine is a small covered bridge that leads into a grove of beautiful trees. The bride crosses a stream and is barely wide enough for two people to walk through side-by-side. It was dedicated in 1944 as a war memorial.
Ocean Park is a special place for my family. My parents went on their honeymoon there and eventually retired to the small community. Those of you who read this blog regularly know that I was recently in Maine. Unfortunately it was not for pleasure, but was in connection with what proved to be a fatal heart attack for one of my younger brothers.
The final image of these three is my favorite, because it serves as a kind of visual metaphor for me of the passing of my brother Patrick.
© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.
Mike Powell 
I’m sorry to hear that, Mike. I had noted that you were in Maine, but didn’t give it any more thought, since you travel a good bit. I like that last photo a good bit, and I think you’re right about its metaphorical qualities. Beyond that, it’s beautiful. My best to you and your family.
Thanks for your kind words. I never know how appropriate it is to share personal details in my blog. This past week it was clear that my personal life was having an effect on my photography and I felt I should offer a brief explanation.
So sorry to hear about your brother.
I hope your memories and your photography will give you comfort. Please know others are thinking of you at this sad time!
I have really enjoyed your photographs for maybe a year now. A friend used to send me the bird ones, but I finally just started looking at them all.
Thank you!
Anne
Sent from my iPad
Thanks so much, Anne, for your kind words of sympathy and encouragement. My photography has become a kind of extension of my emotions and my personality, a creative way to express myself. I am feeling contemplative at this time as I gradually become accustomed to the reality of Patrick’s death.
We like covered bridges. While we have not been to Maine yet (and we should), we’ve seen the same in Pennsylvania and would like to see the same in Maine!
I may have to go search for some more covered bridges. Most of them certainly are bigger than this pedestrian one.
Wonderful images, Mike. I really like the light on the bottom image, reflected on the timber paneling.
Thanks, Pete. I too like the interplay of the light and shadows in the image and the way the light revealed some of the texture of the wood on the inside of the bridge.
The images are beautiful, Mike. You have captured that golden Autumnal glow perfectly. I am very sorry for your loss. I have lost two of my brothers so I have some insight into the type of grief involved. I wish you and the rest of your family gentle days ahead.
Thanks so much, Laura. I have one sister, my oldest sibling, and seven brothers. Patrick is the #8 child in birth order. I’m so sorry to hear that you too know the grief of losing a brother. This experience really reinforces my sense of mortality.
We are both from big families as I’m #5 of 8. My oldest two brothers died in 1984 and 2003 so it’s been a long time for me. There are still days when the grief feels fresh. Time makes things easier because we develop coping strategies but the pain of the absence never goes away. And I agree it definitely reinforces the carpe diem maxim.
Very sorry to hear about your brother”s passing Mike. A painful trip for you. Your images over the past few days in Maine have been beautiful and reflective.
Thanks, Chris. I hesitated to mention my brother’s death in the blog, but my photography to a certain extent is a reflection of my emotional life. As you notices, the subject matter and the feel of my recent images is a bit different from my normal work as I have been unusually contemplative.
So very sorry to hear your sad news. It’s always hard to lose a family member, but especially so when it’s someone younger.
Sorry for your loss, Mike.
Thanks, Robert.
I am so sorry to hear about your brother’s passing, Mike. I, too, know what it’s like. I lost my brother and only sibling many years ago. The sadness never truly goes away – especially on special days, or just in reflection.
Your photos from Maine were very special. Thank you for sharing them with us.
I hope the days ahead will bring you peace and happy memories of earlier times spent with your brother. Again, my condolences.
Thanks so much, Ginny.