Scene & Story: March 2017

Still Waiting

I didn’t take a lot of photos in March. The weather wasn’t very conducive to taking photo walks — it was actually worse overall than January and February. The photo above was taken on the official first day of spring, during a break in a series of snowstorms.

March, for me, is the month of waiting. Spring doesn’t really come to Maine in March, no matter what the calendar says about the Spring Equinox. It’s not unusual to have cold weather and new snow even into early April. I love the snow and the stark beauty of bare branches in winter. But by the end of March, I’m more than ready for Spring to show her pretty face!

Last year, I took a photo of myself on April 1, standing by the open gate at the entrance to this covered footbridge. It was a beautiful, sunny day, and I was grinning with delight because the park had been opened for the first time since the previous November. Inside the park, the grass was greening up and bulbs and perennials were already sprouting.

This year . . . it’s going to be a while before that gate gets unlocked. As I write this, it’s April 1 again — about 9 p.m. — and I haven’t even been out of the house today. Snow began falling about dinnertime yesterday, and by this morning the world was rendered in black and white again. We’ve got about 10 inches and it’s still falling lightly.

So I’m still waiting. Waiting for the ground to thaw, the rain to fall, the grass and leaves and flowers to grow. I’m eager to go outside without a coat, scarf, and gloves. I’m hungry for the smell of spring, and most of all, for color!

And I’m waiting for my little park to be open again. I’m sure it won’t be long!

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Click here to join our Scene & Story link-up at Paisley Rain Boots.

**Scene & Story is a collaborative creation that Sarah Huizenga of Paisley Rain Boots and I dreamt up to encourage one another in our photography and writing. We’d love for you to join us. Just share a favorite photo from the previous month along with a short story or description and link up your blog or Flickr photo. Please remember to visit the other story sharers and leave a little love everywhere you visit. It’s a wonderful way to find and build a community of kindred spirits.

Adventures in…Intuition

I went out this afternoon to try to complete this week’s challenge from Kim Manley Ort’s Adventures in Seeing book. To be honest, I’m not sure if I “got it” or not. The purpose was to exercise our intuition, and Kim suggested listening to our body’s leading rather than consciously deciding where to walk or what to photograph. The idea was to allow ourselves to feel something physical, a vibration or resonance, that would give us direction.

I think of most of my photography as “intuitive.” I seldom go somewhere specific with preconceived ideas about what I want to photograph. I go someplace, I see something that catches my eye and causes a quick intake of breath, I “work” the subject and make photos of it. But I can’t say I’ve ever felt the sort of physical sensation that I understood Kim to be talking about. Maybe I was trying too hard to make rational sense of something that’s not based on logic.

Anyway, I bundled up and went outside and stood on the sidewalk, waiting for “something” to suggest a direction. All I heard my body saying to me was, “Are you crazy? It’s cold out here! Let’s go back inside.” I ignored that and arbitrarily turned right and headed for the Riverwalk, mostly because I hadn’t been that way in a while.

Past Main Street and the railroad overpass, I veered off the sidewalk to check out this little “park” area. There was no one else there — I wouldn’t have gone in if there had been, because the place kind of gives me the creeps. There used to be some rather artistic graffiti on that wall, but someone (probably the city) painted over it, and now it’s just a lot of (to my eyes) ugly scribbling. This is certainly not the kind of image that makes me feel good. I don’t think this is where my intuition was leading me.

I saw leaves, an unexpected sight this deep into winter. A tall oak tree still held nearly all its leaves, though they were quite dead. I suppose the new growth in the spring will push the old leaves off.

These are oak leaves, too. The sun was playing peekaboo with the clouds, making the leaves flash like a neon sign as shadows came and went.

One had broken away from the crowd to lie in yesterday’s inch of new snow.

There was much evidence of other, smaller creatures out following their bodies’ instincts. I’ll bet they don’t question where they are going and what they are doing.

Okay, that’s a pretty nice view. Let’s keep going just a little farther.

I never notice this sign except in winter, when it always makes me laugh and say out loud, No kidding! But I suppose it serves a useful purpose in the summertime, when there’s a boat ramp there.

“Fine. Can we go home now?” my body wants to know. “The wind is picking up and I’m cold.”

No, not just yet. I want to walk up to the birches, then we’ll go home.

So delicate, the tracery against the sky. Who would have expected this? When I left my apartment it was mostly overcast with dark grey clouds piling up on the western horizon.

Oh yes, this is what I wanted. Maybe I could go just a little bit farther up the trail…. Okay, wait, my body is definitely talking to me now.

“You said, to the birches. These are the birches. You can’t even feel your fingers anymore. Go. Home. Now.”

And so I turned back, still not knowing if I did it “right,” but happy with my outing anyway. One look back:

It is enough.

A Winter Album

Last Tuesday evening, the weather forecaster told us we could expect perhaps an inch of snow overnight. It only took a quick peek out the window Wednesday morning to see he’d been a bit off the mark. The world had been rendered in black and white.

Six inches of lovely, wet snow fell during the night and continued softly all the next day, settling delicately on every branch and twig. I kept going out to see what new delights I could discover.

No Picnic Today

Arcs

Bittersweet

Twigs

Tree at the River’s Edge

Weighted

Secret

Everyone photographs this covered footbridge from the other side — the street side. But this is my favorite view, hidden away behind my building and challenging to reach.

Sentinel Fir

The little island, Jubilee Park, is locked up and inaccessible during the winter, but I still enjoy looking into it from the sidewalk and taking photographs of the trees, water, and changing weather conditions.

Winter Reflection

Resident Mallards

Apparently they missed the memo about flying south for the winter.

Lamp Post

Upriver

Island’s End

The Street Side

Contrast

Bowing Low

Hiding Place

Framed

Zigzag

Home Again

Time to thaw out my fingers with a cup of tea, snuggle under a warm throw, and spend some time with a favorite book. Thanks for coming along to play in the snow with me!

 

Nor’easter 2016

I think we’ve just had our final big storm for 2016, and it was a wild and crazy one. You may have heard rumors of it. Even my sister and brother-in-law in California were worried about the “monster storm” they heard was headed for New England.

All Decked Out

We haven’t had too much snow this winter — up to now. Yesterday morning about 7:15, as I walked to meet a friend for breakfast, I stopped to take a photo of the lighthouse gazebo on Main Street. There was still a trace of snow from last week. While we were at breakfast, it began to snow a bit, but that wasn’t the storm. No, that was only a little warm-up, if you can call snow a warm-up. By the time I got home, we had maybe an inch of “pre-storm” on the ground. It soon stopped and moved on to make way for the real deal.

All was calm for a couple of hours, and then it began to snow in earnest. Perhaps four inches fell over the next few hours, before switching over to rain that poured down in the evening, washing away most of the snow. But we weren’t done yet! It got colder again and switched back to snow, which was falling steadily when I went to bed around 10:30. I’d guess we got another six inches or so overnight.

By this morning the world was transformed. The first order of business was to dig out both of our cars and remove them from the parking lot by 8:00 so it could be plowed. But first I had to take a picture of the soft pink sunrise clouds.

Cotton Candy

Let’s just skip over the actual hard labor part. I got enough exercise to feel justified in skipping my fitness class this morning! I was tired and cold, but my reward to myself was to go walking and try to get a few photos with my iPhone. Here’s a bit of what I saw.

The Bluest Sky!

Old Faithful
Behind the building: I’m so grateful for the faithful boiler that produces that
picturesque steam — and the heat that warms my apartment.

These black twigs make beautiful patterns against the snow.

Remnants of the rain.

I love this tree in every season.

Evidence of the wind: snow plastered against the side of the tree trunks.

A spark of red in a blue and white world.

In front of the building, rhododendrons conserve energy by letting their leaves “wilt.”

So nice to see the sun!

The gate is locked and the park closed until spring. So sad!

This is ice and snow on the water downstream from the bridge.
Does anyone else see a message?

More ice/snow on the river. I’ve never seen it like this before.

A glimpse of the Amtrak train station across the river.

The Sunny Side
Heading home to have my coffee and get warm!

May this New Year’s weekend find you happy, healthy, safe and warm. I wish you all a wonderful 2017!

Winter’s Arrived

It felt like winter finally arrived on Friday, when we got almost ten inches of snow.

Snow Day Afternoon

One of the rules at my apartment building is that we must move our vehicles out of the parking lot by 8 a.m. on the day after a snowstorm, so the lot can be plowed. Saturday morning dawned: it was 7 degrees at 7 a.m. I filled my travel mug with hot coffee and headed out at 7:30 to do some shopping while I waited for the all-clear to go back into the lot.

The sky was blue, every twig was white, the air was crystalline. Do I want to spend this glorious morning at Walmart? No, I do not. Change of plan — let’s take the scenic route instead.

First, Laurel Hill. Is it strange that I love hanging out at this cemetery? It is always so beautiful and peaceful there, no matter the season. Yesterday was no exception. The only sounds were a faint hum from distant traffic, and the songs of a few birds who sounded as happy to be out as I was.

Into the Light

Where Daffodils Bloom

You may remember seeing photos of this view in the springtime, when thousands of blooming daffodils tumble down the hill almost to the water’s edge. The snowy hillside and icy river were just as stunning a sight.

Luminous

Etchings

Victorian Lace

The angel-messenger waved goodbye as I drove on to see what was happening at the beach.

First, to Camp Ellis. Even after fifteen winters in Maine, I’m still enough of a California girl that a snow-covered beach feels like a very unnatural natural phenomenon. But isn’t it pretty?

And on to Ocean Park, my favorite beach for walking. I was not the first, but I did have the beach to myself.

All Mine

Treasure Hunting

Sky Dancing

Up “The Creek”

Sea Wall

Blocked

The pathway to my “secret beach” was inaccessible, so I circled back to my car and that mug of coffee. By that time my fingers and toes were numb and the warmth of a store didn’t sound like such a bad idea. Off to do those errands!

Side note: While I wasn’t paying attention, WordPress has gone and changed everything, and I don’t like it one bit! It looks like they’ve tried to simplify things, but to me it feels more complicated than before. I can’t see half of what I’m doing, categories and tags have moved to the opposite side of the screen, and my sidebar has disappeared completely from the posting window. It’s much harder to format photos the way I want them. I feel like I’m starting from scratch with a completely new blog host. I’ll get used to it, but meanwhile, I’m not happy. And to think, I’ve been telling everyone lately how much I’ve always enjoyed blogging on WordPress…. Okay, rant over. Sorry about that!

 

A Tiny Spark

Well, we got another 13 inches of snow over Saturday and Sunday. It’s a good thing I have Be Still – 52 to keep me busy indoors! This week we had a spread from a catalog to draw a spark of inspiration from, with instructions to do basically whatever we wanted. “No rules.”

I like rules. I like guidelines. I like instructions to follow. The inspirational image wasn’t very, either, as far as I was concerned. The largest photo in the catalog layout was a springlike outdoor scene — a model in a lightweight white dress, sitting casually on a wooden chair on what looked like an outdoor patio, with a lovely textured plastered wall behind her, framed with blooming vines. Have I shown you what it’s been like around here lately? Here’s the view from my living room window:

Fairyland – but even the fairies are getting tired of it

Mush!

Maintenance Parting the Snowbank

Well, you get the drift (pun definitely intended). There won’t be any springlike outdoor photo shoots around here any time soon. So I tried setting up something in the spare bedroom that I call my studio, trying to capture that outdoor patio feeling. It didn’t go well.

Trouble Underfoot

Ugh, that carpet. It was newly installed when I moved in here, but it’s landlord-standard, industrial grade brown and beige tweed, and it’s wall-to-wall in every room except the kitchen and bath (neither of which have a window). I tried various textures and Lightroom presets, but there was no getting around that ugly carpet.

I remembered that one of the smaller photos on that catalog page showed a jewelry display, so I decided to work with that idea. I picked out a few pieces that, to me, had a bit of the flavor of our jumping off point, and moved in close, avoiding the whole background problem.

I kept the white cotton skirt and the potted plant, and used the patio chair as my support. The stone necklace and silver bracelets are pieces I’ve had for years, and each carries its own memories.

Of course if I were doing a real jewelry layout for a catalog, I’d need to either arrange all the pieces in the same plane, or use a depth of field that would keep them all sharp. But since this is my own “artistic” still life, and there are no rules, I can do whatever I please. I enjoyed bringing attention to the pieces individually while letting the others play a supporting role.

Mother Nature’s Little Joke

I should not have been surprised, but I didn’t see it coming. Yesterday it rained most of the day, and it was still raining when I went to bed last night. The wind howled and moaned around the chimney all day, but it wasn’t very cold. This morning when I looked outside I was startled to see this:

Patio Seating Still Available

Turn Up the Heat, Please

Cold Coverlet

Waiting In the Wings

A robin sat still in one spot for the longest time as if bemused by the change, wondering what happened to the lovely warmth of the past few days.

“I thought it was spring….”

 Still, a bird’s gotta do what a bird’s gotta do.

Looking and Listening

 And you know what they say.

The Early Bird [228/365]

I’m sure it was all just a late April Fool’s joke, and this was absolutely the last snow before spring comes to stay, right?

Right?

 

 

Good Morning, Sunshine

Reaching For the Sun

Yesterday was grey and drippy, but today dawned blue and gold. The thermometer rose, at least briefly, into the low fifties. What should I do? I know — I’ll sit on the back doorstep, soaking up sunshine and making vitamin D. It’s probably even better for the soul than for the body.

Sun Worshiper

There are still some sizable piles of snow on the shady sides of the house, but most of it is gone from the lawns, leaving behind a few icy patches and a small pond.

Chillin’

Snow Puddle

Underneath it all, things have been getting ready, and now they are venturing into the light.

Spring Peepers

And then, as if that weren’t enough surprises for the day, I found this:

Yin and Yang

Perhaps it’s a reminder that things will work out and balance out: the light and dark, the warm and cold. It may have seemed like an endless winter, but spring is coming. The real thing will be here soon!

 

And Then the Sun Came Out

Last night before I went to bed, I took this shot through the window with my iPhone:

Snow Mountain 170/365

This morning when I woke up, the neighbors’ landscaping looked like frosted desserts.

Snow Cones

Others, including us, have icicles hanging from the eaves — very pretty, though not good for the house.

Pretty But Perilous

Like Icing On a Cake

These could be dangerous if they fell, except that our snow mountain prevents our getting anywhere near them.

The sky cleared as the sun rose.

Look Out Below

Sunshine came streaming in through the windows, pale at first . . .

Treasure Chest

. . . but gaining strength.

And Then the Sun Came Out 171/365

Showing Her Age

I love that you can see the texture of the wavy old glass in the shadow on the wall. I believe this fanlight is original to the house, which would make it over 200 years old. No wonder the glass is a bit saggy and wrinkled.

Curiosities

Interior corners were illuminated, like my cabinet of natural wonders.

White snow, blue sky, and sunshine are such a beautiful combination. Unfortunately, it didn’t last for long. In the afternoon, this happened:

What, Again?

and by evening it looked like this out back:

Yup, Again.

But that’s all right. There are compensations.

And life really is good.

Craving Color

Today looks like this — again. And it’s snowing — again.

Now, I think the snow is beautiful, and I’ve been enjoying it. But as you can see, my world is pretty much a black and white one at the moment. It seems it has been so for months.

Yesterday, knowing another storm was coming, I decided to walk to the shopping center that’s just a couple of blocks from the house to stock up on a few essentials. I can’t face a storm without milk and bread and a rotisserie chicken.

And just inside the door, I found this:

Be still, my heart, and breathe deep, my soul. I didn’t need to buy any to bring home (they’d have frozen before I got there, anyway). I just feasted my eyes and filled up the well. It made me very happy.

On the way home, I stopped by a snow mountain piled up by the plows in the parking lot, and snapped a silly selfie. The sky was blue. That made me happy, too.

Then, half a block later, this:

Not much color to speak of, but a tiny message of love right at my feet, from a Universe with a sense of humor. That might have made me happiest of all.

I wish each of you a happy Valentine’s Day, full of love in whatever color and shape you find it.