Showing posts with label Casco Bay. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Casco Bay. Show all posts

Wednesday, June 19, 2013

Southern Beauties - with a Maine Interlude

Imagine being a honeybee crawling on a fragrant gardenia. 


Gardenia fireworks - the shrub exploded into bloom almost overnight. 


Here we have a dramatic transition of subject, from the closeup views of a quarter-acre suburban garden to ....

the wild beauty of a rural Maine island in Casco Bay. 

 I slightly expanded the definition of backyard photos while in Maine. The bay with its changes in tides and winds and weather and sun draws me to it inexorably. It teaches me things 
that I cannot articulate. 

I try with the camera to evoke the mysterious beauty. I fail, of course, but I do not care. Life is happening according to rhythms that we cannot fathom or capture. Somehow that is a relief, a prayer.

But I am drawn to share the beautiful, and here's a bit of what I saw. 


A view from the walk to the stairs leading down to the beach.
This is one of the oldest cottages on the East End of the island.


The evening sun lights up the bay, seen from the porch of our cottage. 


High tide breaks on the ledge at the point.
How many hours (days) have I spent on this point I cannot say.  


Sunset at the wharf as seen through a lobster trap.
Lobstermen were just beginning to put in their traps for the summer. 


Twilight and eider ducks with their babies on the bay near the point. 


The beach at low tide. The rockweed has a beauty of its own,
and is home to all sorts of sea life. 


Eastern phoebes nested on the rafter of the front porch.
This phoebe alit in a lilac bush not long after fledging. 

In the miracle of modern airplane travel, I was transported reluctantly back to North Carolina. The lilies (not eaten by deer) and beginning to peak were a consolation. 



This post is the fourth in a series of "10 Days" posts featuring daily photographs from my backyard.


Tuesday, September 11, 2012

Maine Island: Variations on a Scene

The island in Casco Bay where my husband's family cottage sits has many moods. I have been coming here for 14 years as summer slides into fall. The slanting light becomes more beautiful each day as the equinox approaches.

Each familiar scene never looks the same twice. Always something is different - the light, the wind, the clouds, the vantage point, the tides that rise and ebb 10 feet every 13 hours. Here are a few favorite photos from the last three years of the East End point. This is the view we see when walking a couple of hundred feet to the stairs that lead to the beach. 

After a rainstorm, the late afternoon sun strikes the white birches that line the shore.


Wind from the northwest brings low dramatic clouds and rockweed is exposed as the tide goes out. 



This view of the East End was taken from halfway down the beach.


A different kind of calm from the photo above. The scene is ethereal at dawn. 


Inviting in the late afternoon.


Violent, yet exhilarating, during tropical storm Irene.


Cold and lonely when the sun goes behind a cloud.


Tonight we'll sit on the point that looks toward the East End and watch the stars. It was here that God began to find me. 


Saturday, August 27, 2011

Calm Before the Hurricane

We escaped from the hot South to a Maine island that is now caught up in the excitement of an anticipated hurricane. I had one criterion for this to be a successful vacation - any weather is acceptable except temperatures above 90 degrees. Yesterday was sunny and calm, with barely a ripple on Casco Bay.


We explored favorite spots on the island. At Deer Point we stood on the ledges as the tide came in, looking southeast into the Gulf of Maine.


At the boatyard, men were busy hauling boats out of the water before the hurricane hits.


The island is accessible only by boat. The main work on the island is lobster fishing. 


We walked through the woods and along a rocky beach to a friend's house for dinner.


They served lobsters and sweet corn.


White birches are silhouetted in the fading light.


Goldenrod blooms along the shore, one of the early signs of fall.


We may lose power for a few days if the hurricane predictions aren't overblown. I have to admit that I'm more excited than scared of the storm, and look forward to some opportunities for photography.