PALM DESERT, Calif. – Somewhere in the vicinity of a half-century past, a stylish ballroom dancer gave up the trade and turned his attention to photography. A young, velvet-footed dude named Paul A. Knaut Jr. swapped his dancing pumps for a pair of low-cut L.L. Bean boots and bid goodbye to Ritz Carlton of Boston.

Once Knaut shed those shiny black dancing shoes for the comfort of walking boots, there was no turning back to the city famous for cod and the all too-often bitter medicine attendant to a Red Sox blackout. Knaut, through and through, became a State o’ Mainer from the buttons cinching his long johns in the winter to making climb after climb up Mt. Katahdin.

Paul Knaut signed on at the University of Maine and majored in biochemistry, a member of UM’s class of ’42. The suspicion here is that we have known each other well beyond 40 years, which is to mean I had not met him until he became skillful with the camera.

My former newspaper colleague, Peg Warner, now exploring University of Maine folk with her writing genius, recently said of the Dover-Foxcroft resident: “Knaut, who has been taking pictures for a half of a century, has the eye of an artist, allowing him to perceive subtle shades of color and light. But he acknowledges he can’t paint, so the camera became his canvas. It’s the play of color and light interchanging all the time that changes any scene.”

Peg Warner’s quotes from Paul tell the Knaut story.

The man is one of a special breed, like his counterpart, the renowned Arthur Griffith of Boston. Paul, on assignment among a small army of competitors, has never needed a name tag for identification. He was and remains the tough-as-nails little guy with the baggy pants tucked into his hiking boots and the ever-present canvas knapsack draped over his shoulders.

Think of Mt. Katahdin, and you need to include the name of Paul Knaut. The two, man and mountain, are as close to being a matched pair as brother and sister. The 1984 pictorial book “Behold the Mountain” showcases the Knaut handiwork.

Nineteen years ago there was a first Knaut exhibit at the University of Maine. Now there is a second, playing on the same old campus grounds. The Paul Knaut pictorial artistry is displayed from 7 a.m. to midnight in the Arthur Hauck Gallery, Memorial Union.

Do yourself a favor and take in the display. You’ll enjoy and immediately understand why Paul traded in those old dancing pumps and became a camera artist.

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ITEM NO. 2: Ernie Ellison has been on my mind.

Why? He is an outstanding lake fisherman, and, occasionally, we have gone back and forth on this matter of diminishing lake and pond fishing.

Recently, Ernie, a gamester fighting off Parkinson’s disease, stated: “There have been many suggestions on how to fix Maine’s problems with respect to diminishing lake fishing. Closing lakes and ponds for a year from all fishing as you have frequently advocated, I believe, would certainly help, although I cannot imagine cottage owners, sporting camps, ect., being ready to accept such an action plan.

“I thoroughly love trolling for landlocked salmon. I make my own streamer flies, catch a few fish, and am pleased with the results. The days of taking large lake salmon probably have passed, so I have made an equipment shift to meet the present day circumstances. I had Gayland Hachey of Veazie restore an old, light fly rod, one I bought in a Carmel yard sale. We rigged it with a Pflueger medalist reel and spooled what seemed like a mile of 2-pound Maxima monofilament line. I trolled streamers such as a Gray Ghost and with favorable results. The meat fisherman, I realize, is likely laughing in his eggs and bacon about now, but let’s be honest, the fun of fishing is the experience of fighting a fish and not necessarily in the eating., A 17- to 20-inch landlock with a light rod and 2-pound test line offers real sport. And how do I feel about bag limits? How about a one-fish limit, either salmon or togue?”

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ITEM NO.3: My winter reading program has included a limited-edition tome titled “The History of Pierce Pond,” co-authored by Gary Cobb and Alfred H. Fenton. This one is a true limited-edition, 2,000 copies.

Back in the dark ages, 1958, Gary’s parents, Maude and Floyd Cobb, stuffed their clean laundry into a packbasket and departed from the bright lights of Lee, Maine.

The two bought the Pierce Pond Camps. This was 1958, remember. No roads leading to the lake’s edge, no electricity, no television and no business on the books. They slowly built a customer base the old fashioned way, offering a glorious, three-meal table, woodsy cabin comfort and trout fishing waters that made dreams come to life. Ten years ago, Maude put away her cooking tools, and Floyd left the franchise in the care of son Gary and his wife Betty.

Gary is an extraordinary talent. Besides being a quality person, he’s a guide, environmentalist, canoe-builder and a history buff. Gary’s niche is for facts and artifacts dealing with the Kennebec River, loggers, lumberjacks and guides. He put 10 years into the search that led to “The History of Pierce Pond.”

Three years ago Gary asked Alfred H. Fenton if he would look at the manuscript. Al Fenton, himself a former journalist and author, quickly saw the book’s potential. The two, Cobb and Fenton, expanded the book’s outline, using Gary’s massive collection of research data, and last December a hard-cover, 272 page, 32-photograph edition left the oven, ready for consumption. Total press run, 2,000 copies selling at $25 apiece.

When I received my copy on Dec. 23, 1,700 copies had been obtained by Pierce Pond friends the world around.