Tropical Storm Irene

How does one photograph the wind? I made several attempts yesterday, even braving a mile walk through a spruce woods to the most exposed point on the island in an effort to obtain a photographic record of my first tropical storm in Maine. (I also had tired of sitting inside with no electricity, holding my book to the window where shadows from the wind-whipped maple flickered on the page.) I could barely stand in the wind blowing the sea into the ledges even at low tide. That's why the horizon is tilted.

Sea spray misted the camera lens and my hair and face. I laughed, drunk on the wildness of the day. Later, my husband’s friend the lobsterman, hearing of my adventure, said, “That was stupid.” Was it? I’d rather inhale a storm than sit inside meditating on our dependence on electricity.

It was hard to hold the lightweight point-and-shoot steady.  It was also hard to pose steady.

How does one photograph the wind? Messenger from another world, visible only by its effects. Grasses bend in the winds coming across open water.

Most seagulls evacuated to the golf course.

The wind pushed though the trees all day, flipping the leaves inside out. The oak below has stood with its brothers and sisters exposed to the east wind on a bank above the bay for well over a hundred years. How many storms has it withstood?

At the cottage, the only damage was to these black-eyed susans, stems bent by the wind, but petals intact and merrily gold. Conveniently, the flowers lean to face the front porch where I sit.

We read last night after dinner by the light of three taper candles. I was almost disappointed when the power came back on. The rain ceased. The wind stopped blowing. We awoke to clear sky, sun and views of islands rising from calm blue water. New Englanders say, “If you don’t like the weather, wait a minute.”

Below, are photos taking yesterday and today near high tide at the East End Point. 

The goldenrod and sumacs are browned, presumably from salt spray.

By local standards, the storm was a non-event. Islanders say many winter nor'easters bring winds and waves wilder than we saw yesterday. It takes a lot to impress a Mainer. 

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.

Help Me Decide: Show the Motion Contest

I never set out to photograph motion, but because the world is full of motion, it sneaks into my photos. Cathy and Steve suggested I enter one of the photographs of the robin in the birdbath photos in Gardening Gone Wild's competition this month, which is on motion.

Once I started looking at old photographs, I got a little carried away. These are some of my favorite photographs from Chebeague Island, Maine. To me, they convey the motion of wind and tides and waves and birds. I am not sure that they convey motion to others who weren't there to feel the chill of the northeasterly wind as it raced over the waters, or the power of the tide flowing in. So I'd love to hear your feedback.

Here is a photo that is similar to the one at the header of my blog. I like how the water swirls around the fern that magically grows on a rock in the rushing creek. The fern appears to be in motion, too. 

Next, some photos of butterflies in motion. I think the top one of the zebra swallowtail is the best.

This photo may be more about the water than the butterfly.

Birds are almost always in motion. Because my camera has a limited range of shutter speeds, I end up with lots of blurred photographs. But sometimes I like the effects. You can see the drops raining down on the towhee in the photo below.

This photo never fails to make me smile, though I'm not sure if it can stand alone.

I like how the robin's wings are blurred as it beats the water.

This photo amuses me, too, and I can see the robin in it looking at me while he bathes. But is it too much of a blur? The idea of a contest makes me second-guess my own photos. I'm an amateur with a basic camera and little technical knowledge, though I do bring love of nature and patience to photography.

This photo captures the typical turning of the bluebird as it flies from the box. 

I know from reading others' posts that I am now supposed to reveal my decision. But I don't have one yet. So please help. I'd appreciate your comments and votes for your favorite photo that shows the motion. 

Update: After reviewing Gardening Gone Wild's contest description and reading the comments, I have decided to enter the photograph of the robin beating the water with its wings. I agreed with commenters that the beach scene with the gulls is probably the best photo, but I am not sure it shows enough motion to fit the contest requirements. Thanks to all of you who took the time to offer feedback!