One could hardly say that about the Portland Headlight. However, there is a mansion that has fallen into ruin. Colleen has to read and look at every single plaque. She reads them all. I am about the photo op. I have seen the ruins. They were im-memorable. So, who got to see the ruins?! Again? The reflection? You have to peer over the fence and look down to the tidal puddle below. No one, of the myriad of bus tourists, ever sees this picture. They never peer. After all, you only have a moment, otherwise you miss your bus ride. Though I have been here many times, it’s always different. Today, it was about the wildflowers. Working the scene, it takes a moment to find the right vantage. Eh?
The shot of the day? Colleen spotted it. I just shot the picture. But! She spotted it! Wow!
Quintessential Maine, Somesville bridge. It’s not my best effort, but this was a long time ago and before I knew better. The first balloon festival (for me) had the searing memory of Lisa dipping her poison ivy covered arms in a bucket of ice at a soda vendor; no, not pictured here. How about a field of wildflowers they planted just for my camera? My dog Nellie, I loved that dog! One more summer image, fishing, the water was about 18 inches deep. But, you get the idea. Idyllic, childhood. It was a different time. Good. Better, that’s harder to say.
I have made few trips alone. This was one. Colleen has been curious and asks often about my travels before we were together. On this occasion I was set up by a fellow neurosurgeon who asked if I would attend his birthday party. Of course! And, then, he told me it would be in Norway. I had an unplanned stay – in a farmhouse room – with a loom! Two looms! Who knew how much that would impact later on in my life! Traveling alone is no particular fun. I learned early on that dining alone was an issue. I soon carried a book to read while eating. More importantly there was no joy in being unable to share something picturesque without someone in the moment. That has changed permanently for me now. I shall be traveling with the one I love.
Turn! Turn! Turn!The Byrds
To everything (turn, turn, turn)
There is a season (turn, turn, turn)
And a time to every purpose, under heaven
A time to be born, a time to die
A time to plant, a time to reap
A time to kill, a time to heal
A time to laugh, a time to weep….
Count your blessing. In this time of corona, I am humbled by the beauty of nature. I am blessed to be in it and away from the utter chaos, horror, and sorrow in the world right now. Someone, somewhere decided, I have done my part. I am apart from this fray. I never walked away from danger in the past. … count my blessings. Turn…
Would you believe that this is the slide that precedes the slide of Nellie in yesterday’s post?
A field of wildflowers can’t be beat. I grow flowers and do it well in a container garden on the deck. I’ve had a deck most of my adult life. Lucky me. But a field… that’s a whole ‘nother game. Beautiful and wild! Except that it’s work. Yup! This field did not appear the following summer. It was a once and done. It seems that you have to cultivate a field like this. Sure, there are wild flowers. But they are a bit more fastidious than this field led me to believe. Yes, there is no free lunch and maybe flowers aren’t really wild after all.
My years in Maine afforded me many pictures of the countryside. I liked to drive the back roads and see spring bloom. These are wildflowers until someone tells me they are weeds. Most likely they are. Ha! I’m not saying. But the color and the season are so cheerful and full of hope. It’s been a while since I was cheered by a sight like this. Remember, the Middle East is desert and barren. Mostly garbage strews my view. I would have accepted a bright blue sky day but you can’t have everything. I did not hop out of the car. I just shot from the open window as we wound our way up the hill to park to see the sheep. Oh yay!