photography

It is written in the sky

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There is no doubt about it, things will change. And to confirm it, I saw a sun halo yesterday while we hiked at low tide out to an island. A very brief internet search called this a sun dog, sun rainbow and a whirling rainbow. It was thought to be a sign of change by Native Americans.

Specifically, weather will change while a front blows though today but I can only hope that a lot more will change. My Christmas wishes: the pandemic will ebb and we can hold our distant loved ones again, safe and healthy; people will get along respectfully, listen to one another and be kind. During my eight hour drive the other day, a John Denver song, “Country Road” came on the radio. It made me think what a different time that had been. So much gentler.

Tim asked me to walk across the great abyss with him. He found a way over large slippery rocks and boulders with seaweed and streams thrown in for fun. I began, then said no way. You have fun. I often balk at his adventures and sometimes rightly so. I’ll admit this time I was wrong. After I gave up and walked along the road and he continued onward, I saw a much more reasonable path over small gravel. So after he disappeared, I too made it to Little Moose Island.

And as usual, it was worth it.

Here’s the view looking back to where we are living. There is a water tower on the shore and our townhouse is back in there.

The island with its rock formations, surprisingly reminded me of Barn Rock (my favorite place) on Deal Island – on the other side of the world and in a different hemisphere. We are all from the same core after all.

I watched these clouds form a heart and it filled me with gratitude.

Or, now that I look at them, maybe I was already thankful and thought I saw a heart.

We made it ashore before the tide washed away our path. I look forward to more adventures with this guy.

Happy holidays and to wishes for a healthy, happy, peaceful New Year.

There and back

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I committed to return home to work a couple of days a month. I should be committed. It has taken ten days of travel and quarantine and three Covid tests to work two days. Needless to say, I won’t be working in January in the hope that travel restrictions may eventually ease again, they have to right?

Before heading home, we took a lovely hike in Acadia proper, around Jordan Pond and up the South Bubble. It included a at least a half mile or more of “board” walk. There was a lovely bridge around the inflow/outflow?

Beaver activity was evident.

Pacman tree

There were some rocks to climb at the end, as there always are, and the views were spectacular.

South Bubble, Acadia National Park

We drove by the Thunder Hole, but the tide wasn’t quite right. We heard little burps instead but will return again two hours before the high tide. A low cave captures air and then releases it in a burst of sound when conditions are right.

This is one of the few working boats we have seen since we arrived in Maine.

There were some gnarly trees along the way.

Determined to take root

We returned home to one of my better quiches. I don’t have power tools in the apartment in Maine so I made a pie crust by grating the butter. It was pretty crisp.

Then I hit the road for the eight hour journey home. The ride went by fast, as I drove through the White Mountains of NH and the Green Mountains of Central VT to arrive home to our mountains in the Adks.

To my shock and dismay, critters quickly moved in. When the cat’s away… This porcupine came lumbering out from under my front porch. I think he thought he was invisible by ducking his head on the other side of the tree he climbed.

He left plenty of sign: footprints all over the deck and some scat!

We had problems with mice in Eddie, our 2004 Ford Explorer, all fall. I had to replace Eddie’s battery this trip (in 8 below 0 temp) and checked the glove box where I had placed a dryer sheet, to dissuade the mice. A few droppings but…they had eaten the plysplit woven key holder I had left in the car. It was shredded and unwoven.

While I did my laundry, I looked for the handwoven bag that holds the clothes pins. I found it in the outside basement alcove, also eaten.

As I reflect on it, this must mean my textiles have good taste, or at least taste good. I cut away the shredded part of the bag and put it back in the alcove in case it comes in handy for a mouse house.

Eyes on the ground

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We hope to continue dodging bullets. Another employee had to quarantine due to secondary exposure so we haven’t met yet. We had last week to ourselves and spent time exploring. Sometimes it’s the small things that matter. I found a way to bushwhack to the beautiful shore without crossing any roads. Small victory. But the other day, I lost my oldest face mask. One that I sewed early on and carried with me during my daily walks since March. It wasn’t necessarily my favorite, but we’ve been together through snow, rain and heat and a good part of the pandemic.

While I was exploring the rocky coast, I saw another person! I took out my mask but we stayed far apart and it wasn’t needed. Then I bushwhacked back home. Somewhere along the way, I lost my mask. I was actually mildly distraught. Not really, but it was the mask that I had kept looped on my phone holder (made from a cross stitch project I made in my teens, with a new tablet woven band added) for all that time. So yesterday, we retraced my steps. On the way out, nothing. It had been very windy when I lost it so I looked in the bushes surrounding the trail. While Tim wandered further down the rocks, some of which were icy, I kept looking. Nothing. So we headed home.

The beginning of the walk is a little uncertain and we had to backtrack, just like I did the other day. And then…there frozen in a puddle, was my missing mask. My day was made. If we hadn’t become a little turned around, it could still be lying there. Small victory.

I saw this heart rock while hiking the other day and it cheered me up.

Nature’s colors are often inspirations for art and crafts. I think this rainbow hat mirrors the ground covers.

A lot of research is conducted in the park. I took a closer look at these garden plots because they had some colors I was surprised to see in nature and wanted to see what little plants they were. Instead they turned out to be tiny plastic swords – markers for a plant project? Or perhaps signs of an end of season party.

Windswept, rocky coasts sing to me.

Reunited.

Pregaming

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My to do list is done. I set some crazy goals before we headed to our new volunteer gig at the Schoodic Institute in Acadia National Park.

I finished: two more quilts for grand children and one for a friend’s wedding; a lace shawl that had been in the works for two years; hats for coworkers’ kids; and a few woven scarves. The scarves were really a test to see if I wanted to bring the table loom to Maine. I did and did.

As usual, I spent about ten days getting projects together to bring with me and half a day to pick out and pack my clothes.

And we’ve moved into our new quarters. All is well. Today we picked up a humongous order of groceries and took a look around. We can hear the waves crashing from the apartment. We took a hike that almost caused a panic attack when I had to climb down steep, wet rocks, right in our backyard, a National Park!!

We’re downeast, as many of the business names remind us, but nowhere is isolated enough from COVID-19. We had negative tests before arriving in Maine but another Park worker is in quarantine due to exposure so we have our first week off to explore.

Time to make the pizza

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We took a nice walk in the woods last week to Boreas Pond. The road was washed out in the same storm that knocked out our bridge. This meant we had to walk the whole 13.5 miles round trip. It was a beautiful day, so why not?

At the pond, we were greeted by circles of ice and a zeppelin cloud floating overhead. We enjoyed lunch and napped before heading out. The ice and snow we had to contend with on the way in had melted but we were no faster leaving. Couldn’t make a pizza that night because it takes a couple of hours to get the embers just right and the oven hot enough.

It will be a beautiful place to explore by kayak next year if we don’t have to portage the 13 miles!

Last night I made pizza in the oven I built a few years ago. Nothing better. Sun sets at 4:30 so I cooked by headlamp and may have been a little giddy.

The pizza cooks in 90 seconds and is fun to watch. I used my telescope while I waited for the fire to be ready.

Actually I was making sure the whole structure didn’t burn down because flames were licking the outside of the oven. I have a laser thermometer and although the oven floor was 800 degrees f, the roof didn’t get hotter than 140.

One day I will line up things to bake: bread, pie, roast, with one fire. One day.

Off with a splash

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I am not the most graceful person getting in and out of a dinghy on a rocky Maine beach. In my defense, I was weighted down by a drybag on my back with our electronics. As I was climbing aboard the stern, the boat bucked, and with my legs and arms already in the boat, my butt and drybag landed in the water. It was an impossible position to get out of myself and Tim had to haul me aboard. Another memorable dinghy moment. One year, the dinghy flipped and we had to bob for apples in the cove.

We finished getting the grates up before the island closers arrived.

The departure day was perfect, clear, dry and crisp. The lighthouse was tucked in and would shine all alone for the winter.

Aldo Leopold bench we built in 2008

A departing gift

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We had a short stay on Seguin this year but it delivered plenty of joy. The trails were in great shape and we walked them all.

We dripped in fog for days – not a good time to try to dry newly spun yarn or laundry. A gale came through with winds of 40 mph. We dined out aboard a sailboat and we tucked the island in. The lens sparkled brightly even with its new solar powered LED light.

Friday, our last full day on the island, began with fog, which turned to rain, and ended with double rainbows at sunset. What a treat.

Islands always give more than they take.

Visions

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The fog has lingered for several days There is a gale blowing now and it should tidy things up a bit. We’re battened down. Such drama. Boats in the cove looked like ghost ships and Pond Island seems to rise out of the mist.

Even though we have been coming here for 12 years, I still discover new things. This old man rock on Cobblestone Beach is a new vision.

Need some help?

This lovely rock weed pops around the beaches. Sweet little yellow flowers, different from goldenrod.

A couple of seals have been resting during low tide at the cove.

We went to the workshop, Whistle House last night and once again saw how nice it is to return to the lighthouse at night.

Goodnight moon…

Fog

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The fog has settled in just as it should at a lighthouse. I woke in the middle of the night and heard it dripping from the Keeper’s building. It’s funny how the dampness obscures some things and amplifies others.

I heard voices which sounded just as if they were on the walkway but instead they were coming from a lobster boat off the island.

The dew makes spider webs more visible and there are plenty of them about.

This view is a little different from just a day ago.

We saw an old friend, Jim, who has spent so much time and energy on this island. He was happy to see what great shape it is in, which is a credit to the Friends of Seguin, the caretakers and their dedicated Wednesday Warriors. We enjoyed an al fresco dinner aboard Finisterre. My journal posts reveal, four years ago, we dined aboard SV Guillemot, which may have been an Outward Bound boat.

Our return to the island showed it in its glory, shining brightly. At least we could see its glow.

You need some fog to get this wonderful umbrella effect.

I am still hopeful we will see a few more sunsets before it is time to go. We will have to actually see the sun for this to happen.

On island

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We left the deer at home to finish eating the rest of my garden. They’ll have to pass on the geraniums though. These came from Seguin at the end of a season a few years ago.

Tim suggested we drive through the White Mountains to Maine. Then he took a nap. He woke up for the hairpin turn of the Kancamagus highway.

We enjoyed a leisurely drive and made it to Bath, ME in time for my French zoom class. I am confident Canada will let us back in one day…It was fun to have a little time to roam the town.

As predicted the wind lied down by Thurs and we took our favorite lobsterman’s boat with our gear and food to the island. The new Yeti cooler performed as advertised.

Getting the gear up the hill is always a chore but Cyndy from Friends of Seguin Island helped and it went easier than I remember. Maybe it was a good plan to backpack and build up legs prior to this trip.

And here we are.

This year, through individual contributions, Friends of Seguin Island raised more than $100,000 to convert to solar energy. And it works, even in this foggy spot.

The Island had the same caretakers for the last two seasons, Debbie and Chris, and they kept it in great shape and made several major improvements: a spanking new generator shed for the spanking new generator; a plank walkway in the North trail’s swamp; a new interesting trail and a new bench on it. . Some of this was done last summer, when the electric cable failed and they had to run a generator 4 hours a day. Hats off!

Here’s to a few more beautiful sunsets in my happy place.