The choir loft at the meetinghouse was nice, once I got used to the steep (very) and narrow (especially with a camera and a tripod) stairs. There was good light. The rope for the church bell was right there in case you wanted to, uh, hear the dulcet tones of the bell. There were pews for the choir members. And hymnals. And an organ that had very definitely seen better days.

And here’s one of the wood side panels of the organ, with a view of the nicely-weathered floor beyond.

At one point during our time there, I sat in one of the pews and wept. I wept for the abundance of my life that let me take such a trip, for the abundance of my friendships that made the trip so perfect, for the things I thought were wrong in my life, and for the things I know for a fact were (and are – this was only in March) wrong with the world. The space and my time in it felt like an important planetary alignment.

And now that I’ve edited this photo, I see how there’s a distinct balance/tension between the dark and the light. Sort of like real life.

South Solon Meetinghouse
Solon, Maine
photographed 3.19.2026