glorious?

i love the brilliant blue of this morning glory, even though the center is not terribly interesting, especially compared to that zinnia from a few days ago. this photo's just a tad too fussy for me, i think.

wee beastie II

this fascinating specimen was found on my way out the door, crawling purposefully along the edge of a violet leaf. the magnified gaze of the new macro lens displays not only the head section of this spiky caterpillar, but also what looks to be a tiny face. can you see it?

blueberry morning

a serene, sunny saturday morning, the perfect day for blueberry pancakes and orange juice at the picnic table. how can i bottle this calm, this peace, and save it for the weeks and months ahead?

mid august

the farther into august, the closer to end of vacation, the nearer to school time, the more glorious become the days. like today. here, scarlet runner beans finally advance up the pole, at long last begin to bloom.

bringing the corn

the perfect babysitting day with the little girl punctuated with music, heavy equipment, frogs and toads, table settings, and the shucking of the corn for dinner. she exhibits a mean arm as she stands at the edge of the yard pulling husks from ears and flinging them into the compost pile, one handful at a time.

pink zinnia

look at all that goes on in the often unnoticed center of a zinnia! having this macro lens for my camera makes me wonder if i need to have my eyesight checked again.

mismatched

trying to camouflage the new grape arbor up on the hill by painting it to match the trunks of the trees beyond. as evidenced here, i am failing miserably. oddly, the arbor looks grey in this photo. in real life, however, it's a lovely muted shade of blue. not even close...

too much, too soon

the local big box store has removed all its annuals and vegetables and, in their place, put out chrysanthemums. at the beginning of august, for heavens sake. what on earth are they thinking, particularly now that summer is finally here? i guess it could be worse. they could have put out pumpkins, too.

pinus bogus

a cell tower, new england style. i still laugh when i see these, even though they are getting more and more realistic-looking. especially when glimpsed flying down the highway at 75 mph.

afternoon stars

the full moon i wanted to blog tonight was not only obstructed by clouds, it was interrupted by a phone call! but no mind - here's a shot from yesterday's trip. new york rises on the opposite shore as lake champlain sparkles like a million stars in the late afternoon sun.

a little tripp, a little culture, a little circus

my head still reels thinking about all the beautiful and unique antiques and collectibles i saw on a visit to a wonderful museum with a good friend. the most amazing was this miniature three-ring circus, 35,000 tiny little performers and animals and circus trappings and audience members. it was carved by the artist over a forty year period, using only a penknife and a treadle jigsaw - and he worked on it only during in his spare time. would that i had spare time like that.

finally summer

it's hard to believe it's august when i am in such a june state of mind. today was really my first feels-like-summer day: windows wide, shorts and a tee, flowers in vases, greens and balsamic vinegar for lunch, a nap in the sitting spot. these are the days that sustain me throughout the long new england winter. sure hope there's time enough to stockpile more as summer begins to wane.

beach grass

this is the last of the official vacation blog photographs, taken a few days ago from the edge of a rocky spot near the dock, looking though the grass and across the reach. two vacations in two weeks was so wonderful that i really don't want july to end. and so, following the lead of a wise friend, i have chosen not to turn the calendar to august. at least not yet.

joker

as much as i enjoy word games and puzzles, i am not a fan of board games and cards. but this afternoon for hours i played this new game with two old friends and a new acquaintance - a lovely but rugged 88 year old woman who maintains her own home and property, makes great cookies, and was a patient and understanding teacher to this student who, in spite of the many moments of admitted fun, was quite distracted and very far away.

maine morning

the view out the window from the quilt covered bed in the charming white bedroom on a beautifully clear morning in maine.

in the fog

while dining with friends, i was distracted by the appearance of this heron in the distance, fishing for his own dinner in the fog off the rocky coast.

a morning farewell

russian sage flowers in the back of the beach house, with the vast marsh beyond reflected in the water droplets. the end to a lovely family vacation by the ocean. good times, good memories.

stormy seas

no need for suntan lotion on a day like today. the rain is driving, the wind is whipping, the ocean is wild. later if the rain stops, perhaps a walk on the beach to see what the storm blew in.

castles in the ocean air

the arrival of the little girl to the vacation spot unfortunately did not bring the sun. but it was still a perfect time to build a sandcastle (or a birthday cake!) in the summer's biggest sandbox.

displacement

years ago i went to ireland. the rugged western shore was strewn with rocks and it was difficult to pick a favorite as i always do on vacation. finally i selected an elongated rock, far bigger than i would normally choose, but as green as the irish countryside. a perfect memento of the emerald isle.

a week later at home, when i drew the prized rock from my bag, the vibrant color was gone, in its place an ordinary muted grey. in vain, i ran it under the tap, hoping water would restore the green color. but to be as it had been, the rock needed something that was not in the new england environs, some natural element that was unique to the air over ireland or the waters of the north atlantic. like so many things in nature, it needed to be enveloped in its native surroundings to be what it was truly meant to be.

the beach in rain

a dreary day at the beach, grey and rainy. a good day to visit, to read, to nap, and to practice with the new lens. it took many shots before i was even a bit satisfied with this one. can you see the beach?

dawn

morning has broken, like the first morning
blackbird has spoken, like the first bird
praise for the singing, praise for the morning
praise for the springing fresh from the word

mine is the sunlight, mine is the morning
born of the one light, eden saw play
praise with elation, praise every morning
God's recreation of the new day.

-cat stevens

a day at the beach

day one: morning coffee at the window, reading on the deck, and snoozing in the sun. this afternoon, sandcastles to photograph on the beach, inspiration for an adventure with the little girl later on in the week.

a whole new perspective

what is this flower? a mammoth sunflower? a daisy? nay, it's chamomile, the most diminutive little flower ever, no bigger in diameter than the nail on my pinkie. here's another shot of it in a wee little windowsill vase. this tiny flower appears ginormous and detailed because i took the shot with my brand new new macro lens! if you click on the photo to make it bigger, which i hope you always do anyway, you will see the intricate sunflower-like pattern in the center of the flower. you may also notice two inchworms dancing on the flower's head. amazing!

i'm going to need a lot of practice and experience - but oh, the things you and i are going to see through this lens...!

the conundrum of stuff

the older i get, the more stuff i seem to have accumulated. it feels imperative, as i age, that i weed through my stuff and either organize it or throw it out, if only to save a loved one from dealing with my stuff after i am eventually gone. but the older i get, the more i like my stuff, with the memories they provide, the reminders of love and friendship, the mementos of happy times. so, do i need all this stuff? heck no. do i want all this stuff? i'm not sure. all i really know is this: it's not so easy to part with some of a lot of this stuff.

july morning

into the garden early with coffee and the camera...

hosta la vista

alas, someone somewhere has eaten all the large glossy leaves from this huge hosta plant in the garden down by the sitting spot. i do hope its appetite is satisfied and it doesn't go after the others. one of the down sides of rural living.

good camera

back in business with a new memory card for the camera. even though i still had the small cheesy camera that i carry all the time, i was feeling a bit inept and lost without the "good" camera. so i'm relieved to know the card is all formatted correctly and the camera is once again working as it should. from tonight's trial run of around-the-house shots, here's my favorite "vase", an old redware spice jar that once held "cloves & nutmegs".

concert on the common

a free concert on a village green on the fourth of july weekend. folk music with a celtic, french-canadian feel played on guitar, banjo, ukelele, and bodhrán. byob (bring your own blanket) and free popcorn at the back of the crowd. children dancing in the grass as the musicians sing and play. the american flag flying high above the gazebo in a cloudless blue sky as the crowd sings along at the chorus. a summer evening doesn't get more small town new england - or more wonderful - than that!

4th of july

the best fireworks i saw all weekend!

about time

just an ordinary field down the street. but after weeks and weeks of clouds and rain, it's such a treat to be able to see the moon at twilight.

memory card

in the early hours of yesterday morning, after i took the picture of the rabbit, below, the memory card for my good camera, the digital slr, sputtered and, refusing to give up its images, died. the card has lived a long and happy life, and served well, documenting all manner of important and not-so-important events: the girl's wedding, the little girl's birth, numerous vacations to the ocean, family at christmas, snow days, birthdays, children, parades, stars and insects and just about every flower here in the garden. in addition, it's preserved sights and scenes that captivate me and recorded images that i've glimpsed and want to hold in time. it's been a steadfast extension of my mind's eye. that must be why it's called a memory card.

first of the month

a child once shared with me that it was good luck to say "rabbit, rabbit" before anything else upon awakening on the first day of a new month. i usually don't remember to do it and don't even think about it until much later in the day. but today i did remember and now feel oddly satisfied with the fact that i said it! maybe i should go buy a lottery ticket!

watering can

the old galvanized type of watering can, with the sprinkler head, the kind i have wanted for years, restored and given to me this birthday by a dear friend. strange that i finally have the garden tool i so wished for but have not had much reason to use, given all the rain we've had this spring. i sure hope i get to use it this summer.

herbs

on the kitchen windowsill, chamomile and curly mint, with orange mint and peppermint just beyond in the window box outside. finally the herbs are all planted, a good six weeks later than usual. to encourage growth, the leggy tops of the dill were cut back, then the cuttings were used to make dill butter. it will be wonderful this summer on potatoes and corn.

alpha baby

babysitting with the little girl often includes a brief stint at the computer, learning to touch the keys gently and one at a time, and being rewarded with a brilliant shape or corresponding letter or number on the screen. the program's voice identifies the symbol shown and the little girl parrots the responses and counts the number of letters she sees. she sustains for longer than i expect she should, given her age, and i sometimes wonder about that. but then she calls out "two yellow moons!" - and she's right - and i figure it probably can't hurt.

it's summertime?

forecasters have promised today the sun will shine and temperatures will soar into the 80s. if they are correct (do i sound skeptical?), it may be the first day this month that will feel at all like summer. they say we have had five times as much rain this june as we normally have. it's no wonder the morning glories are less than glorious and the peonies heads are all droopy and sad.

luna moth

a good year for moths, perhaps. here's one of the luna variety, spotted clear across the yard hanging onto a stub of a broken branch. of course, there's nothing around with which to relate its gigantic size. but to have held a dime next to it to show that relativity seemed somehow wrong in such a natural setting.

summer solstice

as we slept, the earth momentarily stood still, hanging to the farthest edge of its orbit around the sun before undertaking its slow journey back to the opposite side.

so summer came. now, where is it?

little lupine

in the garden, a trio of tiny pink lupines, so dwarfed by their parent that i had a difficult time getting a decent shot and finally gave up. you'll just have to take my word for it that this big lupine is pretty tall.

blink

in no place is the fleeting passage of time more evident than in watching the baby girl grow and change. another birthday has taken place, with balloons and presents and a lemon cake, this year eaten with a fork instead of fingers. so in honor of her second birthday, the baby girl's title (and tag) will be changing to "the little girl" - because suddenly, magically, in only the blink of an eye, she is.

waxwings

for weeks i have watched new holly berries growing and maturing alongside last year's old red ones. the bright color, so cheery at christmas time, looked odd and out of place in the fresh green of spring and i secretly hoped they would quickly shrivel and drop. but a small flock of cedar waxwings has come along every morning and is slowly consuming them all, leaving the green berries to once again grace the winter landscape. i'm always amazed at how nature takes care of itself.

wall art

just making sure that, like the package promises, washable crayon really is. and it's a good thing it is!

after midnight

up much too late tonight, doing some design work, having a glass of wine and winding down from a very busy and hectic week. finally, weather is warm enough to keep the door open even this late into the night - and look who just appeared with a bang and a bump and a flurry of gigantic wings.

don't try this at home

what happens when you forget and you wash a 100% cotton, homespun, dry-clean-only shower curtain. i suppose it would be good for high water...

iris

i am not a fan of irises unless they are the type with the gigantic flower heads that look substantial enough to actually be a flower. these smaller ones are what i have - and, although the colors here are drab and the flower is less than spectacular - this particular iris is my favorite. i like them because they came with the house, growing wild amongst the sedum and maple seedlings and hostas of an aged garden. transplanted closer to the house, i can now see them when they bloom - in all their nondescript beauty.

contrast in color

a lone red maple seed jolts the cool green of the grassy play yard on a brilliant spring afternoon.

the success of jed

i was standing four deep in the checkout line of a supermarket in a nearby town, holding my basket of 15-items-or-less and reading the covers of magazines. it was hard not to notice our cashier, a pleasant young man, as he smiled and greeted each customer, one by name even, making small talk about their purchases as he rang them through: how old is your baby? what kind of cat do you have? i love the way this smells, don't you? in each instance, he made eye contact, smiled, and drew the customer out with questions so they were fully engaged in conversation by the time he bagged their groceries. only as i came closer did i see his name tag and make the connection - this was jed, a first grader in my class so long ago. jed, a sullen and quirky child, a difficult student, the kind i worried about as i time after time tried and failed to reach him. precisely the sort of student a teacher might think would never find success in life. never get good grades. never go to college. never move away. yet here he was, in the fifth year of a job he loved and was good at, he told me. he shared an apartment with a friend. he had nieces and nephews and cousins. he had a cat. and he was happy. he was a careful and conscientious worker and his pleasant demeanor made people's days richer. i walked away smiling, knowing that, in his own way, jed certainly had found success.

surprise!

a rouge clump of forget-me-nots, seeded from goodness-knows-where to an obscure graveled spot close to the granite foundation. if i hadn't gone to that side of the house, i never would have even known they were there.

yellow jacket

today i wore yellow. normally i wear black, tan, sometimes brown, with a little red thrown in from time to time for novelty's sake. but today i felt compelled to wear yellow. it was our third day of rain and turn-on-the-heat cold. it was the end of a short but very long and trying week at work. it was the kind of day you long to stay home and do quiet things like read. so today i wore yellow, to brighten at least my own day. coincidentally, i was also dressed to babysit tonight. yellow, perhaps because of its brilliance, is first color the baby girl has learned.