The fragile drooping hosta blossoms tell me summer is half over as we arrive, midpoint, to our busiest month in Maine. June's tranquility seems a distant memory now, but here are a few images and thoughts from early in the season.
Long before our last sad watchful days with Aunt Grace, before the slamming screen doors and laughter with the arrival of children and the exuberant 4th of July the old fashioned Maine way...I wrote this. It feels like a very long time ago.
Summers in Maine slowly unfold like a small bud reluctant to reveal its beauty. A warm April day can be followed by May's teaser snowfall. Homeowners clean up winter debris, check mowers and open their cottages and camps. Unpredictable weather continues well into June, but for the most part, family and tourists have not yet arrived with their bags, pets, noise and enthusiasm. This is our quiet time and, for me, it translates into ineffable cottage light and shadow captured in random still moments.
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Such exquisitely contemplative images that make one think, make one feel and make one imagine. Such is art!
ReplyDeleteThe most evocative for me is the fourth - a picture to weave a story around.
Blue, my apologies for not responding to your lovely comment sooner...our quiet time exploded into a house full of family. Your words have inspired me to pick up my camera again!
DeleteAgree with Blue about the images. How fitting that Grace left in between the seams—the intermezzo—of these two larger acts. How lovely to leave when there is promise around the bend rather than in a time of despair. With her red hair, I'm assuming your Grace was more than a bit of a firecracker!
ReplyDeletehome before dark ~ You never met my aunt, yet you have perfectly put into words the essence of her personality. She was too giving for center stage and the spotlight, but she was a star!
DeleteLovely writing, lovely photographs!
ReplyDeleteVickie, thank you so very much!
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