long, low light

Sometimes, late November light

can take my breath away.

enough is enough

Seems to me...

 a lot of that warm moist air

is coming from numerous hysterical weather people.

Mother Nature is an awesome force.

It's good to be humbled by her once in awhile.

Nothing wrong with staying inside with a good book,

a fire in the fireplace,

some knitting and a battery powered radio.

I'm going to get some hand sewing done!

Stay safe, everyone.

the river in autumn

It sure has been pretty here.

Most mornings, I have celebrated the day

with a walk down to the river.

I've shown you this bridge before.

It was designed and built in 1892

by the Roebling Company--

experts in their time 

in designing and building suspension bridges.

(The Brooklyn Bridge was also designed and built by Roebling.)

Mill workers used it to cross the river by foot 

every day to go to work and back.  

It carries two abreast.

It has been recently restored 

and is enjoyed by many in the area

for its beauty, and for the way it moves with you

as you walk on it.

Downstream about a half mile,

there is another bridge that carries cars and trucks.

Restored mills are on both sides of the river.

Two of my docs have offices in those mills.

The view from the windows is grand.

Don't know if you can make it out,

but in the bluest part of the river above

there is a reflection of 

the black railroad bridge 

which also crosses the river nearby.

Every walk takes me from bridge, to bridge 

to bridge.

Today the water was like glass.

Behind that little rocky island,

I spent some time watching a cormorant

fill its tummy with little fish.

This is a wonderful place to reflect each day.

(Pardon the pun.)

*  ~~  *  ~~  * 

Just wanted to say hi, and thank you for

continuing to drop by and leave your

good spirits and kind thoughts.

I keep up with you all several times a week.

(I sneak in and sneak back out when you aren't looking.)

Sending love.

island girl

I've just returned from an awesome respite!

There is nothing like the right company to get your spirits back.

This is my granddaughter, who turned 2 in late June.

She came to visit Grammy on "Grammy's Favorite Island".

Grammy was there to rest.

...And on the second week, out came the Respite Reserves!

Three wonderful women--

my daughter, my granddaughter,

and a dear friend we've known

 since she was a college student in the area 

30 years ago.

(A second mother to my daughter, a surrogate sister to me,

and dearest Auntie Chelle to Ingrid.)

They each took such good care of my heart and soul.

We had no stroller, but we had good shoes.

No toys, but Mother Nature was all around us.

No electricity, but lots of books--

and a solar panel that lit a bulb or two in each of four rooms.

Beautiful sunsets, and myriad stars on the porch at night.

While the lighthouse light went round and round.

Every morning called us to go outside

to see the world.

When our feet got tired,

we sat down and sang songs or told stories.

We found cool stuff to look at in the woods,

and made little houses out of what we found, for the fairies.

We fed the ducks every day.  

Some would get right on your lap, if you let them.

There was  a shop down the road

that had different ducks to visit.

A little wardrobe adjustment was necessary

every day or so.

Some hikes took us out to the rocks

at the back side of the island.

It was so pretty there, you sometimes

felt like dancing.

The waves hit the rocks in exciting and beautiful ways.

Splash!!   Boom!!!  

"Here comes another one, Grammy!"

This little pond on the rocks tasted salty!

And it was cool refreshment for piggy toes.

Every night, we went out to the porch

to watch the sunset over the ocean.

(You can do that in New England if you are on an island!)

Ingrid would sit with us for 20 minutes or so,

just watching.

Then after bath, it was back to the porch to look at the stars. 

Snuggled into jammies and her fleece sleeping bag,

she could watch forever--quiet, rapt, amazed.

"So many stars, Mama!"

No wonder I am feeling so happy and refreshed.

Thank you, wonderful women!

I love you all so much.

Thank you, Monhegan Island,

...my heart's home.

Did it!

                                                      seasonal repose

After four years, I did it.

I submitted two photographs to a public exhibition.

First time ever.

Aside from this site, I have rarely shown anyone

 who wasn't a friend or a member of my family

any of my art work.

Quite new to the world of making art,

I have had to be persuaded to describe myself

using the term "artist".

I have admired the creations and photographs 

of others for a long, long time.

But, due to many disappointing experiences in elementary school art

about a million years ago,

I thought of myself as someone who was incapable

of such a thing.

At best, I could follow directions in a sewing, quilting or knitting pattern.

To me, following directions did not amount to art.

I got tired of all that somewhere in my late 50s.

People I knew and loved were venturing forth

into creativity with oils, pastels, paper, fiber, and photography.

They were having so much fun.

I could no longer resist.

Our town hosts a yearly benefit for the arts in our schools 

called the 10x10 Art Exhibit and Sale.

Artists in the community enter pieces in the show,

and people come for miles around to see what's "up".

It has come to be in the last several years that the exhibit

has outgrown its original single venue.

These days, it spills from the local library

to the church next door and back again.

This year, instead of three works,

submitters can only enter two, 

due to the growing number of entrants.

Not a juried exhibit, everyone's submission will be on the walls.

Each piece is in a 10"x10" format.

Each is framed in a plain black metal frame.

Each is offered for sale at the same price,

with half of that going to the arts program

and half to the artist.

I have no fancy notions of selling anything.

The accomplishment here is taking the leap.

Having to prepare a couple of photos ready to be framed,

and write an "artist's statement" and bio,

and open myself up to the risks 

of other people's judgment.

All childhood stuff.  All very real and powerful, nevertheless.

What I wouldn't have done to have had Christie from Fine Lines

for an art teacher.  What a difference it would have made

to my sense of self.

But I'm not done yet. 

Some things just need to be refused, overcome, laid to rest, 

you know?

If you are in the Midcoast Maine area the last week in Sept.

come on down to the Brunswick Library and

 St. Paul's Episcopal Church

to see the show.

It never disappoints! 

                                                                         puddle moon

Mandala meditation

Here's something I found

while enjoying some respite time today.

It comes from the website:

http://premaspace.com/index.php

...which they've asked me to mention as I share this

beautiful video.

Find yourself five minutes for a mandala meditation,

grab a pen or pencil and some paper.

Don't worry about perfection.

Just be...

Find peace.  Create beauty. 

Enjoy.

pause

 A cool breeze is filtering into the room 

after a long stream of hot and humid days and nights.  

Summer windows flung wide open, 

soft rain gently patters on leaves, 
pavement, skylights, roof.  

It is almost dark at 8:05, 

and one of 'my' cardinals is chipping 

just outside the window near the porch feeder.  

This lovely creature visits several times a day.  

Here in the gentle rain, she says  goodnight.

Before I am ready, winter will be back. 

These sounds 

and these whispers of sweet fresh air 

will be a thing of memory. 

This is time to savor.  

Amidst myriad chores, 

obligations, and countless caregiving duties, 

here is our lovely, peaceful world 

inviting me to slow down and participate.  

Quiet, Mike.  Breathe.  

All the rest will be here tomorrow.  

But this here, this is NOW.   

This is what I need.