looking for an agent

This individual practically crawled into our backpacks

as we were visiting the island cliffs.

"Hey!  You two!!  Whip out them cameras!

I'm looking for some paparazzi!

I've GOT to get out of this one-bird burg!

Somewhere like Hollywood! (is that an island?)  Manhattan!  Hawaii!

Know'm sayin?"

"Can you focus in a little closer?

Do you know any talent agents off-island?

Is this my best side??"

"I do the windblown look very well, don't you think?"

"Regardez my bouffant feather-do."

"You must notice I'm standing in a strong wind and only my feathers are moving.

I could start as a stunt-bird if I have to...."

"Not that I'm bragging, but take a look at the legs on this gull!"

**  **  **

If anyone knows of a theatrical agent, this bird is seeking one.

Last seen on White Head, Monhegan Island.

(Bring toast.)

the view from the floor

Nothing is static on the forest floor.

Birth and death sit side by side.  

Decay forms the basis for new life.

Look in the morning, you may see nothing new.

Return in the afternoon, and something 

has pushed up with an abundance of quiet force.

Come back the next day, and it may already be in decline.

The island trails are full of wonder in September.

Moisture from autumn storms and from the

condensation of cool night air provides opportunity for

fungi to appear in great abundance of form and color.

Every day brings new beauty. 

Imagine the force required for this fragile mushroom to move

the debri above it out of its way.

~~~~~ ** ~~~~~

From this rotted tree stump sprouts new life.

I find considerable joy in knowing this.  

Per saecula, saeculorum.  Amen.

  

Katia's wake

My first week on the island, the storm called Katia

was running wild off the east coast.

Although she missed the island by hundreds of miles,

her wake was impressive.

On the 'back side' of the island,

the land is held in permanent conservation,

allowing everyone full opportunity

to witness the power and beauty of the ocean

from the rocks and cliffs.

Some days the water is what the locals call 'flat calm'.

(Some nights the water is so calm, the Milky Way

can be seen reflected on its surface.)

Not so in Katia's wake on September 8.

These photos were taken with the long lens I recently acquired.

It looks as if I was right by the shore.

I most certainly was not.

As you can see below, the ocean is deceptive.

Looking out from 130' above sea level,

the water seems calm enough.

No hint of the wild currents and powerful undertow

below the surface.

Yet foam generated by the waves'

never-ending pounding onto shore

provide a hint of the power that is within the water.

It resembles clotted cream to me.

Beautiful,  yet ample warning to those who approach.

The day following these photos, a visitor to the island was exploring

a natural formation in the rocks on the edge of the shore.

He was swept out to sea and his body has yet to be found.

The pamphlet handed out to all who visit the island cautions:

"Always keep a bulwark between yourself and the sea."

Words to be respected.

Even as we pray for the lost and those who love them.

back from the island!

Did I mention my grandbaby and daughter came to Monhegan with me?

And our dear friend Michelle, who took the photo below....?

And they are still with me, even though we are home

(with the exception of auntie CB, who had to leave yesterday).

I have been spending as much time with them as I can,

as they are going home the end of the week.

So most of my photos were of grandbaby girl, and none of them but these

are even out of the camera yet.

Suffice it to say we had a spectacular time

getting in touch with our various muses.

Above--a pool party on the cottage porch

(sunscreen is excellent hair product, by the way),

Below:  a picnic with mommy out on "the back side" after a hike.

(that rock wall you see was between us and the 180 foot cliffs).

I see that is not entirely obvious, and I don't 

want you calling the authorities on me just as 

I get home, ok??

Thanks to all of you for your many good wishes!

I'll post more soon.  

;o)

my muse

I am packing my banana boxes.

(The best way to get what you might need and want

for a two week stay on a small island

10 miles out to sea, via ferry boat.)

It's an annual event for me.

A respite.  A retreat.  A reprieve.  

My little cottage has four rooms,

no phone, no electricity, no wireless,

lots of light, a view to die for (see the blog header)

and most everything my heart desires.

I soak up the sounds of the gulls, the sea, the bells,

the boats, the buoys, the crickets,

and the essential silence at night.

I take in the light, the monarchs, the migrating birds,

the last of the gardens, the trails, the forest,

the ocean everywhere, the fog,

the Milky Way, the mushrooms, the surf,

and the occasional big storm.

I couldn't ready myself for winter unless I did this.

I've been doing it for 44 years.

I'll walk, sit in the sun, watch for whales,

hike on the trails, nap, read a million books,

knit, go to bed early and wake to the arrival of each morning's ferry.

I'll take photos, and show them to you when I get home.

Til then, good people, be well and think of me.

I will be thinking of you.