Thumbing through the display ads for real estate in Down East magazine is like seeing a Maine you never knew.

The sweeping water views. The majestic, built-for generations homes. The sheer grandiosity of islands, and cliffs , and rolling fields on which breathtaking residences are built.

I've never seen them up close.

To say nothing of the fact that I couldn't afford to buy a week's time share in such places, much less purchase a property.

But I like to look.

They aren't located in "cabin country" per se.

Most are in Surry, or Blue Hill, or Camden, or Bar Harbor, or Pemaquid Point, or Seal Harbor, or Kennebunkport, or Kittery.

The Hollywood crowd could do a season's worth of shows of "Life Styles of the Rich and Famous" right here in Maine.

Why not?

Beverly Hills is plush but is not on the water!

The property that turned my head this week was an estate in the Belgrade Lakes, no less than eight miles from my camp.

Advertised by Sotheby's, it offers 7,000 square feet of indoor living space.

The property has more than 100 acres, with 1,000 feet on one of the picturesque lakes there.

There are tennis courts, garages and outbuildings for the guests. (As if hosts couldn't find a spare bedroom and bath in all those 7,000 square feet).

(An aside: I am thinking the property might belong to Mike LaVerdiere. I used to play tennis with him while I was doing time in Waterville in the early '90s. More relevantly, he and family members sold their chain of drug stores to a national outfit at that time, making millions. I heard he built a massive estate, with tennis facilities, in the Belgrade region. I was never invited out there to play, as should be obvious).

Anyway, the property is listed for $12.9 million.

That is a bundle but there are hundreds of homes throughout the state that are listed at more than $1 million.

I won't get near one, either by car, plane or bank book.

But I am intrigued by looking at them and their beautiful surroundings in that glossy magazine published in Camden.

I am not a booster of Down East, but I do love the vicarious thrill of viewing some of the state's most picturesque homes that I never knew existed.

Here some things I am thankful for over Thanksgiving weekend, and will likely continue to appreciate:

- The cabin is sturdy. After four years, the cabin is still holding up. It was a bit of a gamble to hire Burt the (underappreciated) Builder but the structure is evidently well built. I hired him after I found his business card tacked to the bulletin board at the local farm store, and I don't think he had ever built a cabin this large. (He advertises himself as a handyman). But clearly he knows what he's doing. My greatest satisfaction is that the skylight doesn't leak. (Knock on wood).

- Trees have not fallen on the cabin. The camp is in the woods, and when the trees start blowing I have counted at least a dozen that could fall on the structure. But Bob the (reluctant) Woodsman cut down some dead ones two years ago, and we have had no disasters. Of course, Bob hasn't been back since to harvest the hardwood like he contracted to do, but we're here today to praise Caesar, not bury him.

- Gary the (energetic) Logger left a buffer when he clearcut the woods across the dirt road from me. I know, the clearcut is supposed to be a thing of the past. But Gary has leveled a piece of land the size the deck of an aircraft carrier. He left a few trees along the road, though, so I don't see the wreckage, er, handiwork.

- My vines are growing. In recent years I have put in perienniels, including a vine called bittersweet. It gives the cabin a real foliage look, though most real gardeners hate bittersweet. I welcome bittersweet, because it grows fast. As Mick Jagger used to say, it's only rock 'n' roll but I like it.

- The stove works great. The mightly little Jotul generates needed heat in the fall and spring. It might even heat the whole room in winter if the ceiling were lowered. But that decision is off in the future; right now, the stove heats a newcomer in less than an hour.

- My canoe didn't drift off toward Norridgewock. This fall the Sandy River rose about 8-10 feet after heavy rains. My canoe was safe on the bank, I thought, but the river rose so high that it actually moved the canoe. If the 16-foot-9-inch Old Town hadn't been secured to a tree, it would have been gone. I've had that craft for 14 years, and my season would have been ruined if the river had taken it.

They say real-estate prices are coming down.

Maybe.

Here are a few recently advertised properties that SOUND pretty good:

Partially furnished 1-room camp on three acres in rural Maine near Rangeley. "Great deering hunting country, excellent trout and bass fishing on nearby Mt. Blue Pond." $49,000. (207-778-6333)

Two-bedroom log cabin in The Forks, "Modern conveniences, stone fireplace, 110 feet on Durgin Brook." $117,500. (207-695-6899).

Two-bedroom camp on large private lot "with year-round stream and pretty waterfall." Near Kingfield. $85,000. (207-265-4949).

Two bedroom cabin on Eskutassis Pond, in Burlington. "This lot has large trees providing shade and nice frontage to swim and boat." $74,900. (207-794-2460).

And here's a property that I believe is right next to mine in New Sharon. Think of the charming neighbors you would have!

"Own your own community. 3-bedroom log home, also a mobile home, a separate efficiency apartment, and also, two garages with a guest room above. Located on 18 acres, with 290 feet on the Sandy River. Gardens, fruit trees and wildlife. Located in a quiet country location in New Sharon." $299,999. (207-778-6333).

Your Scribe has just finished a biography of Babe Ruth, and one anecdote that intrigued me was the one about the time that Babe bagged three deer on a fall hunting trip.

Author Leigh Montville writes that Babe draped them on his expensive Stutz Bearcat (auto), and drove them home to New York City.

The sight must have startled New Yorkers, just as the prospect of seeing a moose on Congress Street would startle Portlanders today.

(An aside: I regrettably have to thwart the "local angle" of the story by stating that the hunting trip was in New Brunswick. But Ruth and Co. must have driven through Maine to get back to N.Y.!).

Here are some factoids on deer hunting in Maine.

The first source is General Knowledge of Your Scribe, and others come from the Maine Department of Inland Fisheries and Wildlife.

- About 25,000 deering are taken each November.

- The herd in Maine is estimated at 255,000.

- The first bag limit was declared in 1873 - each hunter could take three deer.

- From 1893-1902, deering hunting was banned in southern Maine due to scarcity of animals.

- Top weight of a big buck is about 400 pounds; average weight of an adult buck is 200-300 pounds.

- It takes a deer about five years to mature. When fully grown, they can run at the rate of 40 miles per hour.

- A little less than 12 percent of hunters get their deer in each autumn, which is implied by several numbers above. It you find my calculations are wrong, please keep it to yourself.

My days are numbered at the camp, not because of cold but because of the dark.

I don't have lights, and thus meaningful activity ends at about 5 p.m. these days.

I am considering solar power to generate light.

My son, Drew, has opined that it costs about $300 in materials and $300 in labor.

This estimate comes from a career renter who is now living on the Equator (Tanzania).

Still, I ponder.

My biggest question is whether the cabin sits in too much shade.

The cabin is surrounded by forest.

It gets perhaps four hours of sunlight per day.

Is this enough to capture, store and then utilize?

I don't know.

It seems counterproductive to cut down a great many trees just to get more sunlight.

But that issue appears moot, as Bob the (reluctant) Woodsman has not started the "lumber harvest" designed to make me a lumber baron.

Have any readers installed solar panels for lighting?

If so, please comment below.

Your Scribe is on a (steep) learning curve, and I am seeking all the input I can get.

Thanks . . .

At dusk on Saturday in my neck of cabin country, the tally of deer taken was 31 bucks and 21 does.

Plus one bear.

The registration station that Your Scribe is referencing is at the Sandy River Farm Store in New Sharon, a farming town of about 1,500 that is between Augusta and Farmington.

I was under the impression that there weren't many deer around, because I haven't seen one on my rural dirt road for three years.

But 52 deer in the first week sounds like a hardy herd is out there.

Praise must go to a state Fish and Game official named Tom Jacobs, who was hanging out at the Farm Store as day disappeared.

As a doe, formerly of Chesterville, was being weighed and registered, Jacobs said, "I would guess 110 pounds."

It turned out that this inert animal weighed in at 112 pounds, which is pretty darned close.

(An aside: The "staffer" hoisting and weighing the animals was actually the cashier from inside the store. She would ring up beer, lottery tickets and perhaps a carbo-loaded pizza slice, then she would run outside to work the pulleys so that the next deer could be weighed. Talk about multi-tasking!)

It was cold Saturday night - well, in the teens.

And when it is 18 degrees outside, it is likely 18 degrees inside my uninsulated cabin.

I slept fine but didn't feel like making a fire when I awoke. So I went to the local breakfast spot - the Top of the Hill Grill - and washed up there.

(Aside No. 2: I did not shower, which produced this random thought: The pioneers, woodsmen, Indians - everybody - must have smelled pretty rank before the arrival of indoor plumbing and hot water. And if I can be so indelicate - deodorant. Hearty travelers ranging from the Benedict Arnold team that marched to Quebec to the squads that journeyed out to fight in the Civil War, rarely bathed. And how about their teeth?
Though it sometimes appears that we are making minimal progress as a society, the advance in personal hygiene has to be one of the great triumphs of the modern age!).