amazing summer

Last week I spent on Damariscove Island, whose harbor you can see here in early evening. The Boothbay Region Land Trust owns the island minus the old Coast Guard Station you see here at the mouth of the harbor. Each summer, two caretakers reside on the island for 10 days, then they get 4 days off. Over this Fourth of July week, they had five days off and Marianne Reynolds, Commodore of the BH Yacht Club this year, and I were substitute caretakers for the week.

It was a glorious week though the weather was not perfect. The birds were numerous, especially yellow birds - warblers and goldfinches; the composting toilets worked they way they should; we had plenty of good drinking water which we brought with us; the muskrats were not so numerous that they bothered. The red ants, however, were pesky. They were imported from some boat sometime in the last few years and have taken over some sandy parts of the island. They are a good lesson on how difficult it can be to maintain a balance on an island when a new species of predator - bug or otherwise - is introduced. Chickens seemed to help a few years ago, when caretakers brought them out for their stint on the island. But we had no chickens to bring.

Still, the weather was glorious one day, and it brought many people out on 12 or so boats. They cycled through the tiny harbor with some grace; kids played on the beach and swam like crazy for the water is warm this year; I got to play harbor master and trash collector in a courtesy dinghy. The little museum was open and got a lot of visitors, and kudos for the information there.

That night though, was the full moon. I slept on my boat and woke at five in the am, at dead low tide, to some bumping - not a happy feeling aboard a boat. Peering out of the hatch, I faced the lowest stones of the large stone pier in the middle of the harbor, and realized I was hitting the edge of those stones, albeit gently. Looking out toward the 3 sailboats anchored at the mouth of the harbor, however, I realized that one of them was aground and teetering on the rocks. The people on the boat knew what they were doing however, and waited patiently for the tide to come back in, and the boat floated off in about a half hour. It made for an exciting beginning to an otherwise gloomy day - our only one.

Gloomy days on an island far offshore have their own pleasures. A good book or two, and hike in the fog made our day passable, the birdsong our NPR. A few lobster boats came in to restock their lines with more pots, so we asked if anyone had any lobsters for sale. There were none that day, but the next day, which dawned foggy and then cleared, Bill Hallinan brought us 4 not so soft lobsters for lunch. We sat in the sun on the little cabin's deck and ate them, cooked in seawater, and nothing is as delicious as lobsters eaten that way!

Our stay ended the way it began - with glorious weather, early in the morning. We sailed ever so quietly on very little wind, back into the bustle of Boothbay Harbor. It was an extraordinary week.

Can hearts be broken with pleasure?

My heart nearly broke with pleasure today as I received the top two images from my son. They are images my two oldest grandaughters painted in school this year. Their artists' statements clearly elucidate their paintings, and I quote here from Merry's statement; she has the topmost image:

"I guess the painting/drawing stands for nature. The reason its called The Cross because you can kind of see a cross. That part stands for peace so it kind of stands for Care For the World." I rest my case...!

The middle image is Sarah Kate's; her statement is as follows:

"My Grandma inspired me to do this picture. She loves painting sailboats on the ocean. She has tons of paintings of her in her studio. So this is why I painted this painting."

If you are not a grandparent or wish to be one, perhaps you will not understand the power of their images and words. But they overwhelmed me with gratitude for them, and for my son and his wife that they have raised these two so well, so far. It is not a simple thing to raise kids to be happy, productive citizens. I did pretty well, as well as I could, and they seem to be doing the same. My heart leaps with pleasure again.

The bottom image is one of mine, whose color seems to work well in this blog. It's another version of my Monhegan workboat series. It's not a sail boat, but the color does work well here!

work hung at Ports of Italy, St. Andrew's Family Center, and River Arts in Damariscotta

It's beginning to be a lot like summer, if the rain would ever stop. Paintings that have hung, exposed, in places all winter long, are being changed out; new work is being hung all over the Harbor and up in Damariscotta. These two Valentine veges, which hung for a bit in a restaurant in Baltimore, are now going to hang in Ports of Italy, a wonderful Italian restaurant in Boothbay Harbor. Two other "postcards," 'Sunday Mass' and 'Ocean Pt summer' will also hang there, but I especially love the veges, particularly Parsnips a la Chagall (above).  But the carrots, called "Heart's Desire" is also a favorite. In that series, the 'Heart hidden in a Leek', and the 'Onion', both now belong to friends in Baltimore and Vermont.

In St. Andrew's Family Center, 3 small "snow" paintings are hanging now. They are a sequence of paintings of birch trees and a pine tree in a blizzard. I quite like them and hope to do more of them.               

And at River Arts in Damariscotta, I have a drawing of "the last vine in the row", done at the Antle's ranch in Soledad, California. It was juried into a show on Flora and Fauna, and I love that one, too. 

I have to complain a bit about the new organisation of this blogging site. I think sometimes, Google and all the other info techno companies have to keep changing things just to keep their people working. For us users, however, it often feels like - just when I've mastered something, it changes. And it gets frustrating. I liked the old format for the blog as I could see it as it was developing. I don't need to change the background or anything. It was simple and often elegant, or so it felt to me. In the meantime, bear with me as I undertake yet another learning.

Happy Mother's Day!

Fishermens' Festival!!!!

This year's Fishermens' Festival was COLD! 38 degrees when I left my house at 9ish this morning. The ocean was slightly warmer at 41 degrees, but that did not stop the tykes from running the lobstercar races. The early runners stayed mostly out of the water; it was only later that they began to fall a lot. The guys in the Whaler rescued them. But, clearly, as soon as the kids got their feet wet, they slowed down and that was the kiss of death. This race is one where it pays to be light on your feet and fast!

The lobster car race is my favorite. But the others are fun, too, to watch. The high schoolers dress in boots and waders and race around a block holding large codfish. The sternmen of the lobster crews race each other shovelling bait into barrels. Other school kids bail dinghys. Lobstermen themselves race their boats to haul, bait and toss back 6 traps in line, starting from the docks. And then there's the tug of war - a real Scottish-type one with a long hemp line and many people on either end. How they choose up sides is still a mystery to me, but it never seems to matter who wins. It's all a good time.

Later we will all enjoy too much food and drink. There's a fish fry, lobster bake, a new raw bar with oysters, shrimp rolls and coffee. I'm off now to take my chowder to the church chowder and buckle supper. (If you don't know what buckle is, around here it's made with blueberries and a biscuit-like dough, on which you put ice cream. Not that I am eager for ice cream after the chill of this morning!)

Tomorrow, on Sunday, there will be a public reading of the names of local men who have been lost at sea, followed by a Blessing of the Fleet, a long-time tradition by the clergy of this town. The fleet parades by the Catholic Church, the closest to the water, and blessings are read, said, and sung. This year has a poignancy to it, because one of the grandfathers of the fleet, Earl Brewer, was lost off Spruce Point in a fog this past week.

So here's little Matt Duncan running 6 times back and forth from dock to boat to dock again, for a total of 243 cars. He didn't win, but he set a high standard for the rest. His brother, in street clothes no less, only made it to 206 before he fell in!



waiting for forsythia

In the gray green gloom of early spring, I have been waiting patiently for the forsythia to bloom. It has - finally. In my impatient moments, I painted the birch tree with its tiny buds. I could not wait for the blazing of the forsythia, but now that it is here, I cannot find the right paint to express how eagerly it blazes. I will someday.

The forsythia was blooming in Portland, just 40 miles away a month ago. Even just 15 miles inland it has been blooming for several weeks. It is the first time that my proximity to the ocean has inhibited, rather than encouraged, plants to bloom and grow. Though the spring - everywhere it seems - has been warm and even hot at times, the ocean's nearness has moderated my miniclimate, and my forsythia has just now bloomed. I recommend patience. The forsythia is putting on a spectacular show!

The tulips are also beginning to bloom as are the daffodils. Even though the snowdrops have been in bloom since January, having larger flowers showing up, with their bigger colors, has been welcome. I have not painted flowers in a few years, like I was painting them in California, and I am eager to paint them again. It is a different flower painting tradition here than California, and I will try and interpret my East Coast flowers as if they grew in California, under an Asian influence.

The tulips I planted last fall were planted for the wedding of my son, Dan. His fiance wanted tulips for her wedding on Memorial Day weekend. Alas for them, the winter and spring has been so warm the tulips are blooming in April instead of the end of May. Unlike the forsythia, they could not wait! So for now, the wedding will be full of lilacs instead of tulips, or perhaps even peonies. Who knows what weather will happen now? Lucky for Dan and Lindsay, they are adaptable! Patience, like the forsythia's blooming with the tulips, can bring its own reward!

where I was, in the trees by the sea

This little house in Carmel, California, is where I spend my several weeks each year in late winter. For as many years as I have been going out, I have wanted to capture the effect of light filtering down through the old oaks on the street here. This year I finally tried and think I've done a credible job without getting too specific. The trees are not all that ancient but have a way of surviving without much attention, and of being very protective of the land and people beneath them.

I wish I could say more powerfully how important it is for us to understand that we are the only stewards of the earth with the knowledge and power to keep the earth sustainable. Who else can rescue us? The trees, the whales, the wolves, perhaps the roaches or other sorts of bugs can outlast us but will they have the sense to attempt to balance one species with the others in some kind of harmony? I think not. It really is up to us as a species to recognize how important to our wellbeing trees are, how they need to be 'harvested' from time to time, for our fuel and their health, just as we are.

When I do my training walks with new docents at Point Lobos State Reserve, I try to make the point that in knowing how man has interacted with the environment historically, we can make better decisions in the present. We ignore the past at our own peril. The Point Lobos area is a great example of both the good and bad aspects of our interactions with the environment. But so is Maine. The recent decision to allow some development in the Moosehead Lake Region, called the Plum Creek development, is a story of the political process working to balance development with a sustainable forest economy - I hope. At least something has been decided; now all we have to do is wait and see if the economy will actually 'allow' the development to occur!

miracle whales

Three weeks ago, I went off to Monterey, California. It is a trip I make every year at this time; I return to a place I lived for nearly 15 years to see friends, to attend a scholarship fundraising auction at Cal State Monterey Bay, and to train new docents and stand watch at Point Lobos State Reserve.

Two weeks ago, I stood watch at the Information Station at Point Lobos; the station overlooks Sea Lion Point and Cove, and massive rocks just off Cypress Point. The Esalen Indians called this place, "the brink of the earth." It is a place that American poet Robinson Jeffers called, "the greatest meeting place of earth and sea." Each year the gray whales pass by, 'within spitting distance' of the rocks. They do this not once but twice, on their way south from the Bering Sea in Alaska to the gulf of Baja California in the late fall, where they have their babies. They return - even in February - from Baja, taking their babies north to feed in the Bering Sea once again.

That Sunday, as part of the early migration north, more whales than I could count moved north past the sea lion rocks off Point Lobos. The mamas and babies stopped in the quieter waters of the Cove, and fed their babies by lying on their sides. They spy-hopped; they flipped their tails; they were more active and happy than I have ever seen them. Grays are not as outgoing as humpbacks, but they were pretty 'flippy' that day. It was a breathtaking sight.

So it was with some eagerness and my usual scepticism that I went to see the movie, "the Big Miracle" tonight. I confess I cried when Bam-Bam died and chewed my fingernails when the ridge of ice was discovered, and was gloriously relieved when things came out right. It is one righteous movie! Go see it!