I'm magnetically drawn to fishing villages perhaps due to my ancestral roots within the fishing industry. There is not a more quintessential fishing village than Stonington, Maine at the southern tip of Deer Isle, jutting out into Penobscot Bay. I first visited the seaside town as a child on a family vacation. When I returned on a solo pilgrimage four decades later, it was as if walking back in time. Little had changed - the Victorian architecture, the cacophony of seagulls, morning fog horns and lobster boats motoring out for their daily catch amongst the archipelago. I find a peace on that island that is hard to put into words. I hope my photos begin to name it.