After being in Maine for nearly 25 years, I’m still discovering parts of the state that I haven’t yet explored. That has been the case this winter, when I’ve spent time skiing the state’s three largest ski areas: Saddleback, Sugarloaf and Sunday River. Being in a new place with time on my hands (read: riding the ski lifts) tends to get the creative juices flowing. I decided to attempt a series of photos at the three ski areas taken solely from the perspective of the lift chairs. I found that each area had its own charm. At Saddleback, I was drawn to the rime ice coating the trees and lifts. Skiing in the clouds that covered the summit of Sugarloaf was an otherworldly experience. Our day at Sunday River was our first day of skiing in sunshine and I was drawn to the shadows it cast. – Staff Photographer Gregory Rec

It’s February, it’s cold, we’re in the middle of a worldwide pandemic (as if you could forget) and that spells cabin fever. So here are some photos to remind you of the many ways that Maine is a perfect place to be living through this. It’s a winter wonderland just outside your door.

Love it or hate it, winter is here, in all its icy glory. When you are freezing outside – your feet like stone, your fingers like marble – consider the miracle of ice. Water, liquid and gas, made solid. Look closely and you’ll find its otherworldly beauty.

In theory, making snow is simple. In reality, making it on a mountain where temperatures can be in the single digits or subzero is an exercise in the saying, “What can go wrong will go wrong.” Pumps fail, lines burst, connections don’t connect or any part of the system can freeze. Press Herald photographer Greg Rec photographs a night with some of the snowmakers at Sunday River Ski Resort in Newry.

The winter solstice, the day with the fewest hours of sunlight in the Northern Hemisphere, takes place at 5:02 a.m. Dec. 21. The long nights of a pandemic have been made beautiful, though, with holiday lights throughout our cities and towns. Many people put their displays up earlier than usual this year as a way to bring joy and help dispel the gloom of a difficult year. Press Herald photographers recorded some of the colorful beauty.

Gulls are often maligned as “rats of the sky,” but is that assessment warranted? Isn’t there beauty in their plaintive calls? Aren’t they as evocative of the coast as salt air, foghorns, bell buoys, lobster boats and lighthouses?
Or are they simply too common, too messy and too pushy to deserve our admiration?
Gulls, love them or hate them, are smart, fascinating, even beautiful, as our gallery shows. Just don’t call them seagulls. Birders will tell you there is no such animal.

The glowing yellows, oranges and reds of autumn in Maine