Peaks Island News wins nine awards from Maine Press Association 

Peaks Island News  

Oct. 17, 2026

SOUTH PORTLAND – Peaks Island News won nine awards from the Maine Press Association, which were presented during the organization’s annual conference Saturday in South Portland. 

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The newspaper’s editor-in-chief, Ben McCanna, won four first-place awards in the feature, news, outdoors, and religion/spirituality categories for his stories about Blain Alves, TEIA’s climate-resiliency plan, the Peaks Island Swim Team, and Rev. Will Green’s arrest during a protest. 

PIN reporter Michael R. DiLorenzo shared a second-place award with McCanna in the news category for their co-written story about the Peaks Island Lions Club. 

McCanna also received two second-place awards for photography in the news and people categories. 

PIN won a third-place award for its editorial page submission, which included writing by Will Green, McCanna, Mira Ptacin, Ross Sneyd and Bill Zimmerman. 

Margaret Grace Myers won a third-place award for writing in the religion/spirituality category for her story about New Brackett Church. 

Rhonda Berg, Peaks Island News’ board president, said the awards, like the newspaper, reflect the community. 

“Peaks Island is an exceptional place with exceptional people,” she said. “We strive to tell Peaks Island’s stories in an equally exceptional manner.” 

The Peaks Island News, a 501(c)(3) nonprofit corporation, was formed by a group of island residents in 2023 and began publishing every other month in early 2024. Since March 2025, PIN has been published monthly. 

This year marks the first time PIN has entered MPA’s annual Better Newspaper Contest. Although a monthly newspaper, PIN competed in the weekly division, as directed by the MPA, because there is no monthly division. The contest judged material published between April 1, 2025 and March 31, 2026. PIN’s entries included works from 13 writers and photographers. 

MPA was founded in 1864 and is one of the oldest professional news organizations in the United States, according to its website. It has 34 member publications, including daily newspapers that compete in their own division. 

Oct 14

This morning, while standing on the back porch wringing yesterday’s rainwater from my swimming togs, I spied a poult turkey in my garden!

Having worked diligently over the years to construct as impenetrable a fence as reasonably possible, I’d be fooling myself not to acknowledge that it’s only a matter of time before they find their way in. One summer day this season, I looked out to see a flock of turkeys perched atop the fence and thought, Well, this is it. They’ve figured it out…

Thankfully, they weren’t quite as clever as I feared. But this one juvenile seems to have found her way into the garden’s bounty while her momma fretted, called, and paced on the outside. Meanwhile, the little one was feasting on the inside!

I quickly dropped my swimming togs and headed for the garden. Momma moved off, and I left the gate open, hoping to quietly encourage the chick to find her way out. Of course, she panicked. She tried to fly, failed to see the chicken wire, and flung herself repeatedly against the barricade.

Like it or not, I was going to have to capture her to set her free.

As a longtime chicken keeper, I knew how to do this safely: gently grasp her body, keeping her wings neatly folded against her breast. Once safely in my hands, she calmed down and seemed to resign herself to her fate.

Imagine her surprise when, gently placed on the ground outside the garden, she discovered she was free to roam once again!

I’ve been thinking about how often life asks us to venture into unfamiliar territory, drawn by something we cannot quite resist, only to discover that the very things that beckon us forward can also leave us feeling exposed, uncertain, and a little unsure of how to find our way out.

This fall has felt, in many ways, like just such a discovery. A season of holding the joyous and the perilous together, allowing them to exist side by side. There is the beauty of autumn and the quiet anticipation of the winter to follow. The comfort and solitude I find at home, alongside the deep awareness and ache that rise when I enter the empty bedrooms of our daughters. They are fully gone and yet still so here.

There is the heart-expanding love of my granddaughter, and the pride I feel watching her mother—once my child, now a mother herself—mother her own child with such brilliance. It is beautiful, and heartbreaking, and profound in ways I am still learning to understand.

Perhaps these are the first sparks of wisdom: the realization that I no longer need to defend what I know, or persuade anyone of what I have come to believe. Perhaps I can simply let it unfold.

I think of the milkweed pods, grown full with seeds, waiting for their moment. They dry and age, then begin to split open, releasing their downy seeds into the wild, open air. They do not concern themselves with where the seeds will land or what will become of them. Their work has been to provide a warm, safe place for the seeds to mature until the moment arrives when the wind is right and they take flight. What happens next is no longer theirs to determine. Come what may, the seeds begin.

And still, in so many ways, I feel like a beginner.

Ed and I are entering our own autumnal season of our lives as parents of children who have grown and gone, and we are discovering, once again, who we are beneath the responsibilities and commitments that knit our lives so tightly together for so many years. There is a new kind of freedom here, though not without its own uncertainties. We are learning to inhabit a life that is more fully our own, even as we feel the tenderness of all that has changed.

For me, that has meant discovering both the joy and the fear of bringing something new into the world: a creative endeavor, a concert and dance series taking shape in our community. I find myself beginning again, not knowing exactly where it will lead, but feeling the pull to see it through.

For Ed, it has meant gradually setting aside his professional obligations and turning more fully toward the life we share. There is something quietly moving about this turning toward one another, about learning to be together in a different way after so many years of being pulled in so many directions.

We are learning, perhaps, that a life does not become smaller simply because some of its roles fall away. It changes shape. There is room for new things to take root, for old things to be held more gently, for love to deepen even as the familiar contours of family life shift around us.

Like the milkweed seeds, we have been held and nourished by the life we built. Now the wind is changing. We cannot know exactly where it will carry us, only that there is still living to be done, still beauty to discover, still a world beyond the familiar waiting to be entered.

Come what may, we begin.

And so, perhaps, beginning again is not always a solitary act. Sometimes it means opening a door, making room, and inviting others in. It means creating the conditions for something to happen, without knowing exactly what will come of it. A little like scattering seeds, or setting a dance in motion.

This Sunday, we begin the Long Winter’s Night Series with a free community contra dance, with Owen Marshall and Maggie Robinson taking the lead, as they so often do. It is an invitation to share in the simple, enduring joy of social dancing, a New England tradition that has brought people together for more than a century.

Come and see. If you can walk, you can contra dance. And if that feels like a stretch, come to listen, come to watch, come simply to be together.

More than ever, that feels real and true to me: the importance of making room for one another, of finding joy where we can, of continuing to gather and create something together, even as life changes around us.

See you Sunday.

Ellen Mahoney, Peaks Island Concerts

Peaks Island has 12 miles of trails, on paved and dirt road and through woods and marshes. A little hike is the best way to see many of the sights. Portland Trails and the Peaks Island Environmental Action Team have published some trails.

The Peaks Island “Loop:” https://www.trails.org/trail/peaks-island-loop/

PEAT Naturalist Tour: https://greenerpeaks.org/naturalist-tour

You could also check out the Wander Peaks Island Audio Tour: www.wanderaudiotours.com

https://www.peaksislandlandpreserve.org/blog/osprey?mc_cid=1d67ea6f0d&mc_eid=50402bee87

Introduction:
This blog is an extension of Peaks Island Newspaper’s article on Ospreys that focused on the its yearly lifecycle. Here we will focus more on the Osprey’s biology.

First, we want to share the history of Peaks Island’s Ospreys in Diamond Pass. This nest is located at the end of Jack Soley’s dock, atop a kayak! Jack’s story (as summarized by Ben), inspired us to write about these unique birds:

“A nesting pair has taken up residence at the end of Jack’s dock for the past four seasons. In the first year, the mother laid one egg, but the nest was poorly constructed and fell, shattering the egg. Prior to Year 2, Jack built a nesting platform for the pair, and they returned to hatch one chick. Jack also added sticks to the platform, but the ospreys discarded them in favor of gathering their own sticks.(lol) Year 3, there were three chicks, but only two survived after a suspected case of fratricide. This year, there are three chicks. So far, so good.”

‍About Ospreys:
The Osprey is essentially a hawk (Order Accipitriformes; Family Pandionidae; Pandion haliaetus) specializing in eating fish (a piscivorous bird of prey) and found on all continents except Antarctica.

‍Biology:
Plumages are similar between the male and female with striking white bellies with a mottled brown breast band – and dark wings and back. The female is usually a little larger than the male. This ‘fish hawk’ has changed little from 10-15 million years ago and is unique as the only species in Family Pandionidae. The Osprey’s wings are long and narrow allowing for hovering and maneuverable flight. Although not a soaring bird as other hawks, the Osprey can soar especially during afternoon updrafts. During long migration flights the Osprey does not soar but uses only direct sustained flight (powerful wingbeats).

The Osprey’s head is narrow and lacks the bony ridges (supraorbital ridges) above the eyes, as in hawks and eagles. Without this ridge the Ospreys lack the ‘fierce’ look of other raptors. These ridges in other hawks and eagles may have two functions:
1. Aid in distributing mechanical stress while eating tough foods. The Osprey’s diet of fish is not as tough as eating mammalian skin, flesh, and bones.
2. They protect the eyes when flying through forests and thick vegetation. Ospreys do not usually fly through forests or bushes.

Several evolutionary adaptations give Ospreys a unique title in the bird world as a fish specialist. As a raptor, it has 3 toes forward and one toe in the back. But, wait, there is more – the outer front toe is reversible – it actually swivels backward. In an instant the Osprey can change its toe orientation: Two toes forward, two toes backward (*zygodactyl orientation of toes). These toes with razor sharp talons are also long and very curved. Foot pads are spiny. These 3 features allow for clenching slippery slimy fish. In addition to its unique toes, this buoyant bird’s long legs allow it to reach for fish up to a meter into the water.

The Osprey’s version of wearing goggles include nasal valves that close during a dive, preventing water from going into their nostrils and a third eyelid (nictitating membrane) that also closes while underwater.

Their preening gland has a high output of preen oil, making their feathers very oily and waterproof after a plunge…no waterlogged feathers. And their intestines are small and long for better digestion of fish and their bones. These amazing evolutionary adaptations have changed little over millions of years.

(*Worth noting – parrots have zygodactyl orientation of their toes. They can easily cling-to and maneuver easily through tropical tree branches.)

‍Hunting:
Ospreys generally hunt alone, in the early morning and late afternoon, in search of one of their favorite New England fish: winter flounder, menhaden, and pollock. They actively search for prey instead of ‘sit-and-wait’ for a fish while on a branch. They hover over the water and may circle back to verify the location of a spotted fish. After this verification, if there is no fish the Osprey moves-on. Upon a confirmed ‘spotting’ of a fish, the Osprey plunges downward from as high as 90 feet high, at more than 40 miles an hour. While falling steeply, with tucked-wings, it may still maneuver using its wings and tail to keep on track with the target, taking into account that water refracts light – possibly distorting the fish’s location. Before hitting the water, the wings are thrown backward, suddenly un-tucked. Then the feet swing forward before the strike.

Alternately the Osprey may drop down in stages before making a final plunge or it may veer off.  Either way after one of these plunge dives, it may rest on the water, securing its fish. With a thrust of exertion and powerful-arched wing strokes (using its outer flexible wing) it lifts off the water carrying a fish that is as heavy as 10-50% of the Osprey’s body mass. Meanwhile the fish is further secured and manipulated, using its now zygodactyl-toe arrangement, carrying the fish headfirst.  In midair, with vigorous twists in the air, the Osprey will shake off water from its well-oiled plumage. Once in the air, the fish’s head-first direction, provides hydrodynamic streamlining to reduce aerodynamic drag. This unique bird outshines any of the Bald Eagle’s fishing strategies.

On occasion, avoiding the big plunge, the Osprey will swoop down over the water’s surface – easily snatching a fish.

‍Breeding
Breeding habitats – array of coastal habitats, lakes, marshes, reservoirs, bay and seashores and sometimes rivers. However, the Osprey’s need for shallow water fishing, does narrow its selection of nesting sites within these habitats.

The Osprey ‘s bulky stick nest requires substantial support (as noted by Jack), and a predatory free site such as sturdy shoreline trees. However, trees are easily climbed by ground predators. Offshore buoys, channel markers, and other artificial platforms (e.g. elevated kayaks) provide safety from ground predators, but are easy target to potential predation by Bald Eagles and owls. However, if eagles are nesting nearby, Ospreys usually will go elsewhere. Evidently, the Ospreys on Peaks Island and House Island chose to stick it out with a nearby eagle’s nest. Jim and Emily have watched Jack’s Ospreys and eagles in elaborate flight displays.

Nests can be constructed of large twigs, seaweed, driftwood, and an assortment of unwanted human treasures which in some cases are harmful to the young. Nests are frequently used year after year, adding new material throughout the breeding season. Some nests become huge – up to two meters deep and up to 400 pounds.

Ospreys can be solitary or form loose colonies which is unusual for a raptor. Because Ospreys are a fish-eating bird, though, they do not need to defend a hunting territory around them. Fish are a mobile resource. They generally tolerate each other.

However, they will intensely defend their nest site by any rogue Osprey intruder or other predatory bird. Initially while still standing guard on the nest, the Osprey will give warnings such as ‘guard calls’ (slow whistle notes falling in pitch sounding like tea kettle taken) and body posturing: an erect stance, back feathers raised, and beating wings. Upon closer approach of an intruder, an intensified ‘wavering call’ is made, changing to an ‘alarm call’ – a high-pitched squeal. To avoid encounters at the nest site where eggs or chicks may be lost, an aerial chase may ensue by striking each other in mid-air resulting in grappling and falling to the ground. More encounters occur where nests are in close proximity to each other such as Peaks Island and House Island nests – as observed by Emily and Jim.

Male ‘courtship calls’ are like the ‘alarm call’ – a high pitched squeal. However, the female will only mate with the male if he brings her fish. Young pairs may not copulate successfully because the male has yet to learn to share his fish with the female, therefore she will not acknowledge him.

After a successful courtship, the female lays from 2-4 eggs, being laid 1-2 days apart. Both sexes incubate although the female does more time at the nests. Hatching occurs in approximately 40 days. The first two eggs are generally larger than the 3rd and 4th, and they hatch earlier giving them advantages over the young siblings. If food is scarce the older chicks will fight for access to the female providing food.

Once there are fledglings in the nest, the male will spend up to 3 hours a day finding food for the female, young, and himself.  He generally feeds himself first, before delivering a partial eaten fish to the female. ‘Begging calls’ by the female are used during courtship, when hungry, and for feeding the nestlings. These ‘begging calls’ may stimulate the males to hunt for fish. Sometimes he will ignore her call, however, since the ‘nestling call’ is similar, it is hard for the male to ignore them.

‍Migration
Not all Ospreys are migrants, only those that breed in the North where winter freezes drive fish to deeper waters. Resident populations in southern states stay near their nest sites during the non-breeding season. Migrants and resident populations do not usually intermingle. Flying alone each bird may reach wintering grounds in the West Indies, Central America, and South America in less than a month, although the young birds may take longer. We are familiar with their lifestyles here in New England, but what is their lifestyle in their non-breeding habitats. Are they in groups or alone. We do know that breeding partners do not migrate together. They hopefully find each other once they are back in their breeding territories. However, the male may be more loyal to his nest site, than his mate.

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References:
1. Birds of the World. Cornell Lab of Ornithology. Online.
2. del Hoyo, J., Elliott, A. & Sargatal, J. eds. (1994). Handbook of the Birds of the World. Vol. 2. New World Vultures to Guineafowl. Lynx Edicions, Barcelona.
3. Gessner, D. (2026). Audubon Magazine. Hunger Pains. Vol 128; # 2. Pp. 20-27.
4. Bellincampi, Suzan. (Spring 2026). Blue Dot Living Magazine. Osprey Comeback. Pp. 40-47. Martha’s Vineyard.

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By Patty (and photo) and Sam Wainright, and Ben McCanna.  
Thank you Jack, Emily, and Jim for sharing your valuable observations of your ‘backyard’ dock/kayak nesting Ospreys.

by Stephen “Dookie” Fox, Fifth Maine Museum staff

After the Civil War ended in 1865, the Union Army sent a detachment of the 1st United

States Colored Troops (USCT) under Captain James M. Moore, Assistant Quartermaster to

the U.S. Army to Andersonville Prison, to catalogue the dead. Andersonville was a

notorious Confederate-run prison in Georgia where Union prisoners-of-war were sent.

Moore was fortunate to meet up with Clara Barton and Dorance Atwater.

Atwater had been a prisoner at Andersonville, and served as clerk for Doctor Isaiah

White, Surgeon in Charge of the prison. One of his jobs had been to catalog the dead.

Paroled in February of 1865, Atwater returned home to Connecticut. Unbeknownst to the

Confederates, Atwater created a duplicate list of the dead that he kept hidden. It was from

this list that helped Moore and Barton identify the dead and bury them in marked graves.

The list, though containing some errors, is the most complete and accurate roster of those

that perished in the horrible conditions of Andersonville. It lists the fallen by state, and

includes men from all branches of service, all Union and Border states, and even some

from Confederate states.

Six men of the 5th Maine gave their lives for the cause, not in battle, but from the

conditions in Andersonville. They were buried on site in numbered graves, at what is now

known as the Andersonville National Cemetery. Fortunately, they are remembered, as they

are memorialized in their respective company windows in our Memorial Hall. They are:

1) Enoch M. Brown, Company G. Believed captured near Bristoe Station, V A on

September 15, 1863. Died March 31, 1864. Buried in grave 269.

2) William Connolly/Connoly (listed as Conley). Company F. Captured at the Battle

of Chancellorsville on May 3, 1863. Died September 6, 1864. Buried in grave 8037.

3) George Devine (listed as Dunnie). Company G. Captured at the Battle of

Chancellorsville on May 3, 1863. Died August 29, 1864. Buried in grave 7240.

4) Sergeant Thomas Spencer Peabody. Company I. Captured near Rapidan River /

Wilderness on December 14, 1863. Died June 20, 1864. Buried in grave 2272.

5) Private Miles (also Milo) C. Walker. Company I. Captured at the Battle of Chancellorsville

on May 3, 1863. Died July 24, 1864. Buried in grave 3894.

6) Private (Corporal) Alanson M. Whitman (listed as Whiteman). Company I . Captured

near Rapidan River / Wilderness on December 14, 1863. Died August 2, 1864. Buried in

grave 4559.

We thank them for their sacrifice.