Loss and Small Gifts

Our dearest Eric left us in April, beloved husband to Mary, beloved friend of ours. He left this world with his children's arms around him, wrapped in love in the peace of the early morning hours. It was the kind of passing all should celebrate and welcome with gratitude. Yet, I will miss Eric with all my heart and I will, for the rest of my life, yearn for one more afternoon in his company, one more smile and the laughter that filled thirty years of Mere Point summers.

Eric was a handsome man, courtly, a New Englander to his core and deeply spiritual. He was a 'giver' who gave to his country, family, friends, neighbors and colleagues, always helping and mentoring others all his life. He made everyone in his orbit feel special, valued, prettier, smarter and capable of great acts and ideas.

Eric spoiled a long line of German Shorthair Pointers...one in particular and it seems like yesterday when we heard him call,

Zeus come!

Zeus never would, finally turning up, in his own 'Zeus time'. Every other dog, ours included, simply wanted to be near him.

Eric was a beautiful sailor and a tolerant and gracious captain which was a novelty in my experience! Over the years he taught Peter the tides, the channels, ledges and winds of the bay we call home. He was a sailor who read the sky and water, grateful for the sun on his face and a good tack. That was Eric. He was grateful for all life's blessings and he knew the value of each and every one. Whenever I saw him, he always said,

every day is a gift.

He left us in early spring as the earth was warming and new life was just beginning to stir. I offer the following gifts in his memory.

Peter hikes up Blue Hill Mountain with new green grass at his feet, trailing dogs...he will miss Eric in ways I can not fathom.

Tiny lupines have appeared in the meadow with the promise of tall peppery indigo blossoms...yes, indigo...the name of Eric's Tartan 34.

Pussywillow matures into soft green in mountain sunlight.

Forsythia sways in a soft sea breeze.

Daffodils loudly proclaiming spring is here!

Gifts! Thank you Eric xo.

Jonathan Fisher House

An earlier photo in deep snow, taken 3 March, 2009.

The yellow house is a well known landmark in Blue Hill, Maine. The home, which is now a museum, belonged to the town's first Congregational minister and was, in fact, built by Parson Jonathan Fisher with the help of his neighbors. The frame went up in a day in 1812 and the house was completed in 1814.

The parson was a stern shepherd who preached a rigid code of behavior and unquestioning devotion to God to his flock, but he demanded far more of himself than he did of his parishioners. Jonathan Fisher was a builder, architect, draftsman, artist, inventor, writer, scholar and more. One can still see the imprint of his personality in his home today.

I have wanted to photograph the interior of the Parson Fisher House on a winter's day for a long time. The project I envisioned was a study of the natural light, to capture the essence of the rooms as they were long ago. I imagined the parson and his wife, Dolly, looking through the same windows feeling just as anxious for spring as I am now. New president, Amey Dodge, kindly gave up a morning to let me in with my camera.

The house will not open until mid July so many artifacts are still packed away for safekeeping. Pink insulation board covers the fireplaces and green rug pads are scattered across the floors. I touched nothing and simply set up my camera, shutter release cable and tripod. The conditions were challenging and, by mid morning, the sun was already higher than I would have liked. To complicate things further, fast moving clouds obscured sunlight and I had to rapidly change settings throughout the shoot.

The following photos are from my project. Clicking on the photos will take you to Flickr, once there, please click on the photo again to see in Lightbox and once more on Fullscreen to experience a March morning at the Jonathan Fisher House.

Jonathan Fisher's self portrait.

Jonathan Fisher's study.

Upstairs hall with partial view of Jonathan Fisher's bedroom.

Looking into the children's bedroom.

Desk made by Jonathan Fisher.

Stairs to the attic, a space that was often used for visitors while Jonathan Fisher lived in the house. Rustic and unfinished, there is little to see today apart from a collection of shoe forms in many sizes.

The Fisher House Journal provides additional views and more information on past projects at the museum.

Maple Sugaring Sunday

Maple Sugaring Sunday, held on March 24th this year, brought out large crowds of Mainers touring the sugarhouses and sampling the best maple syrup in the country. While other parts of the world are enjoying crocuses and daffodils, we are definitely into sap! The above photo shows the sap line at Ducktrap Valley Maple Farm in Belmont, Maine.

The owner of Ducktrap Valley told us how he had spent all winter building his sugarhouse in anticipation of tapping 75 trees which he hopes to increase to 175 someday. I hope he realizes his dream...it takes 50 gallons of sap to produce a gallon of maple syrup. Liquid gold!

Our next stop was Bradstreet Maple Farm, a much larger operation, in Searsmont, Maine. It was a long squishy walk through slippery mud past pretty farmhouses to the sugarhouse.

At last we reached the sugarhouse! Inside the sap was boiling and young folks were serving waffles with vanilla ice cream and maple syrup to all the visitors.

The air was thick with steamy fragrance.

We are told the sap inexplicably stopped running for about 10 days and started to flow again just in time for Maple Sugaring Sunday. Perhaps it was due to the twelve inches of snow and unseasonable weather we experienced the week before.

This batch of sap is almost ready as it is brought to a final boil.

...and at last!

...and my favorite way to enjoy this delectable treat? I will wait until July when I can sprinkle fresh wild Maine blueberries on vanilla ice cream with Maine maple syrup!

April 1

Just for fun, an old shot from the archives, taken 27 April, 2011 watching landings and departures in San Francisco. I've zoomed my old Canon Powershot to the limit and the photo is straight out of the camera...no Photoshop, or April fooling! Watching those planes reminded me of the movie Pushing Tin. Here's the trailer!

Happy Easter!

How to Eat a Mussel (if you are a seagull)

It was a day to lull the unwary into thinking spring was here when the temperature inched a little higher and the sun warmed the mud flats at low tide. Ice was disappearing in the bay and the seagulls were hungry. One by one, the gulls flew back to the rocky shore with mussels.

This gull gets a prize for originality by carrying a mussel in its claws!

The gulls flew in wide circles across the bay and over the far shore...

...looking for the right rock, an isolated rock to drop the mussel.

Then, soaring upward, the gull drops the mussel to crack it open on the rocks below. The next time you walk along a rocky shore and see broken shells, think of the hungry gulls!

If you click on the above photo and run your cursor over the image, you can see the gull and the falling mussel.

Before it Melts Away

I really liked our recent cozy snowstorm with very little wind that didn't knock the power out.

A 24 second exposure, taken using a tripod and shutter release cable. The streak of red is from the lights of a passing snow plow.

The only available light in this shot was from the windows across the street and a lamp post further down the road. You can't see it, but the snow was coming down quite hard. A 20 second exposure...I cut it a little shorter to emphasize the utter quiet and peace of that beautiful snowy night.

We woke up to a foot of snow the next morning! These photos are much better if you click through to Flickr and click again on the image to view in light box!