JOURNAL
These images were taken on and from Capitol Hill almost exactly five years ago on the day that a bipartisan deal was made in the Senate and a Government shutdown was avoided.
The biggest spectacle in Washington then was the Government’s holiday lights.
(Brooklin, Maine)
This is Sun’s Up warming Conary Cove on December 20. It may be the only yellow-hulled fishing vessel around here.
In days of yore, many English, Irish, and Scottish commercial fishing boats were painted the dour colors of the local sea to hide favorite fishing grounds from competitors. We have many white- and black-hulled fishing vessels here with some reds and greens and a few blues. Given modern custom-mixing methods, the hull color choice seems almost infinite.
There also are many ready-mixed yellow hull paints available. The name that we like best is “Fighting Lady Yellow”; there also are “Bold Yellow,” “Bright Yellow,” Canary Yellow,” “Signal Yellow,” “Yellow-Gold,” and even “Van Gogh Yellow” hull paints. But, nothing seems to match Sun’s Up’s playful hue. (Blue Hill, Maine)
Here we have a December Amaryllis caught in the soft morning sunlight that slants through an east window. The tropical flower is named after the mythical Greek nymph, Amaryllis, who loved Alteo, a shepherd.
Unfortunately, Alteo paid Amaryllis no attention, even when she pierced her heart with a golden arrow and spilled drops of her blood on the path she took to plead with Alteo. However, after 30 days, each drop grew into a beautiful red flower. This finally got Alteo’s attention and he fell in love with Amaryllis. (Talk about playing “hard to get!”) In actuality, the Amaryllis originated in South Africa and its bulb cultivation and marketing began in the early 1700s. (Brooklin, Maine)
This is the golden phase of last night’s dusk, as the last of the sun slides behind Deer Isle to our west and darkness begins to creep over Great Cove and up the snow-clad field.
Shortly after darkness, the sunset’s afterglow turned the clouds into bands of pink wool and the deer began to arrive in the field. But, by then, I had beaten a hasty retreat to the warmth of the house. [Note to self: you simply must stop running outside in shirtsleeves on beautiful, cold nights.] (Brooklin, Maine)
This neighbor from Amen Farm down the road got us thinking about eyes — actually, the differences in some eyes.
Big cats (e.g., cheetahs and lions) and big canines (e.g., wolves and dogs) have round pupils, as do humans.
Cheetah Zoo Captive
Siberian Husky
House cats and other smaller predators (e.g., foxes) have pupils that can become vertical slits.
Goats and some other grazing animals have horizontal rectangular pupils.
The latest theory apparently is that rectangular pupils give grazers, such as goats, a wider side-to-side view to see approaching predators. Pupils that can become vertical slits maximize the leaping and striking of wait-and-pounce ambushers that have eyes relatively close to the ground, such as small cats and poisonous snakes. Round pupils maximize the accuracy of larger predators that historically have needed a “full-frame” view to find and run their prey down, such as big felines, canines, and early humans.
Of course, nowadays, the prey that many domestic dogs run down may be something like a tennis ball and domestic cats never show their snake eyes when posing comfortably:
(Brooklin, Maine)
We had a modest snow storm last night and early this morning — enough to paint out winter grays for a moment, but not enough to be troublesome. The sun battled the clouds in the morning, its light sometimes disappearing, but it eventually won and it is a sunny, clear day as we speak.
A skiff on the WoodenBoat campus got a much needed, but temporary, paint job:
Along Back Road, a gust of wind picks up some snow:
During some of the dark periods, it looked like the sun would lose the battle:
Looking up and down the plowed Back Road:
A graceful maple tree:
Signs of humanity:
Signs of a neat fisherman:
Country lanes and paths take on an unusual light:
At this time of the year, Great Blue Herons get a bit abstract, but they try to achieve a certain holiday cheer:
A just-plowed circular driveway, with a peek at Great Cove:
Ornamental grasses add color when there’s no sun:
(Brooklin, Maine)
The regionally renowned Bagaduce Chorale gave two performances of its 2018 Holiday Concert in Blue Hill and on in Ellsworth. In a word, this year’s program was Wonderful — perhaps the Chorale’s best in many years, and that’s saying a lot.
Mozart’s many-mooded Mass in Honor of the Holy Trinity showed the Chorale’s impressive range and kept the audience totally engaged for the first half. Of course, one reason for such engagement was the Chorale’s famed and dynamic Director, Bronwyn Kortge, who at times becomes the music.
After the Intermission, the lights were dimmed and the Chorale surrounded the audience, which joined them in singing Silent Night, Angels We Have Heard, and Once in Royal David’s City.
Then, the Chorale returned to the tiered stage for the featured piece, John Rutter’s lovely and extraordinary Mass of the Children. Soprano Katelyn Bray, Baritone Isaac Bray, and the Ellsworth Community Music Institute Youth Chorale gave scintillating performances, as did the Bagaduce Chorale and the GEMS (Gaining Experience through Mentors) Orchestra.
After the official program, as usual, Director Kortge invited all former members of the Chorale onstage to join in Peter Lutkin’s Benediction.
(Blue Hill, Maine)
Our chances of seeing this celebrity performing in a Maine city park on a very cold December 14 morning should have been less than those of seeing Beyoncė singing there then. Yet, there it was: an immature Great Black Hawk of the Central American subspecies.
The bird’s main act as of late November has been preying on gray squirrels in downtown Portland’s Deering Oaks Park.
It’s the subject of frequent Cornell Lab Rare Maine Bird e-Reports by visitors from many states and Canada. Experts have estimated that this bird is in its second annual molt cycle, when its sex is not determinable without physical examination. It’s fairly big (maybe the size of an Osprey) and has long legs on which it often chases squirrels on the ground – usually winning the deadly race!
Unfortunately, when it flew near enough for us to photograph it without obstruction, it quickly spun and offered a part of its anatomy that may indicate its attitude toward us:
For wildlife photographers: Nikon D850 body; Nikkor f/4 500mm lens with 1/7 teleconverter (850mm total); tripod-mounted; ISO was usually at 1000; apperatures mostly at f/8; shutter speeds varied from 1/125th to 1/6400th sec.
(Portland, Maine)
The Isamu Noguchi exhibit at the Portland (Maine) Museum of Art is not for everyone. But, for those who like to charge their imaginations visually, the show is satisfying. It’s at the PMA through January 1. The works shown are a stimulating sample of experiments in form and function by the famed Japanese-American artist, landscape architect, furniture designer, and theater set designer who died in 1988. Notably, a sample of what may be his most famous creation, the Noguchi Coffee Table, is not shown, probably because it has become a production piece.
A wonderful example for form-and-function fans is Noguchi’s large Play Sculpture (1975-76), which is made out of sewer pipe and designed for adults and children who love playgrounds:
Noguchi’s 1986 experiments combining Japanese tradition and American modernism resulted in his Akari Light Sculptures made with silk or paper, bamboo and wire:
.Low-slung furniture experiments by the artist resulted in graceful forms, but (in our opinion) inhospitable living rooms:
Here we see the works of a mind without borders. The three small images are : Memorial to Buddha (1957); My Arizona (1943; while he was a voluntary internee at an internment camp there); Becoming (1966-67). The large image is Black and Blue (1958-59).
Abstract form, natural materials (marble and wood), and function are created in Table (1971):
This is Slide Mantra (1988), perhaps symbolic of the show.
(Portland Maine, December 15, 2018)
If the Town of Brooklin has a heart – and we think it does – it’s a three-chambered one. It consists of a General Store, Public Library, and Town Pier. Yesterday, as you can see below, the crib-style Pier was waiting in a calm and empty Naskeag Harbor; all the winter fishermen apparently were out scalloping.
Here’s a view from the Pier during some rainy fog earlier this month; that’s Dear Abbie:, rigged for scallops, moored in the Harbor:
The Pier, which is only about 13 years old, is the ultimate result of a petition being filed with Town (and, then, State) officials by about 10 percent of Brooklin residents. They pointed out that “the thriving fishing village of Brooklin has no town pier, the fishermen — whose livelihood depends on their getting to their boats — haul gear upwards of 200 feet at low tide, sometimes in below-freezing temperatures and frequently in the dark….” Persuasive stuff.
Here’s an image of the Pier after a snow storm last month, when many fishermen were ending their season and bringing in their traps:
(Brooklin, Maine)
Let’s face it, the neck, head, and legs of a Wild Turkey are not pretty. But, the rest of the bird is magnificent.
Wild Turkey feathers, especially on the males, are a miracle combination of engineering and art. Their chest and back feather vanes and barbs refract the light into an iridescence resembling a fine-tailored suit of chain mail.
Their long primary and tail feathers are colorful, sturdy, and historically were among the best for writing quills, along with goose and swan quills. (We know that the Declaration of Independence was written and signed with quill pens, but are not sure which birds deserve the honor.)
Even today, there is a surprisingly robust market for Wild Turkey feathers for use in arts and crafts – Amazon will deliver them free to Prime customers. See also the image in the first Comment space. (Brooklin, Maine)
Yesterday and the day before were perfect days to be outdoors – if you were dressed for 20-degrees (F). The winter woods were silent; with one exception, not a creature was stirring:
The exception was Yours Truly, the photographer who looks like a bloody mummy when he’s out and about in sub-freezing weather. We have an image of that strange sight thanks to neighbor Jon Wilson. Jon saw the creature taking a shortcut across part of his WoodenBoat School campus yesterday, stopped his car, got out, and insisted on memorializing the weirdness with his cell phone camera:
Many people have asked about that outfit, which has a number of variations depending on the weather. Yesterday, starting at the top, it was a knit cap, over an insulated head-ear band, over a balaclava hood. On the torso, there’s a cotton (breathable) turtleneck, under a flannel shirt, under a fleece jacket, under a rubberized (waterproof) shell jacket that’s bright enough for hunters to see. On the hands, there are photographers’ winter gloves (thumb and index finger tops fold back) and one ski pole for crossing ice patches in the woods and on the shore. On the legs are an old pair of jeans (long johns not used until the temperature goes below 10 degrees). Finally, on the feet, there are insulated boots high enough to wade through small streams and around difficult shoreline obstacles in Great Cove.
Back to the important stuff. Woods’ streams are icing up, despite the fast-moving water:
Some marsh and field ponds have relatively clear ice; others have the frosty variety. However, they’re all ready for ice skates and casting Valentine’s shadows.
On Great Cove’s shore, sea ice is starting to form, but it’s still in its pancake ice form:
(Brooklin, Maine)
It’s amazing: Brooklin, a town of about 800 permanent residents, has a public library that is as good as (or better than) many libraries in communities with populations greater than 100 times ours. Our Friend Memorial Library, pictured here, is one of the most-used libraries in the State. It not only provides the latest books, CDs, and DVDs, you can download its e-books; use its computers and Wi-Fi network to surf the web; attend stimulating readings and other get-togethers there, and view its monthly exhibits by our many creative neighbors.
The Library originated in 1896 and, in 1912, moved to its present location on land donated by Brooklin’s Friend family. The FML has gone through several renovations and has had many loyal and generous supporters. Among these were Brooklin’s Katherine and E.B. White, both of New Yorker fame, who were instrumental in revitalizing the library. Katherine, especially, helped form the vision of what a first-class rural library could be. (Brooklin, Maine)
It’s been eye-poppingly clear here, but brain-piercingly cold: 9 degrees (F) at 6 a.m.; 11 degrees as we speak at about 9:15 a.m. The already-frozen field ponds are cracking and moaning as the ice builds and creeps. The image below is of a local pond that looked sugar-coated yesterday morning due to a brief sunlight flurry of fat snow.
As in many rural communities, ours has no central water source. Many of the ponds built near houses and barns were dug as “fire ponds”: small reservoirs that could be pumped by firemen when there was a need. Having a pond also often reduced the cost of fire insurance. Some of the ponds have “dry hydrants”: an unpressurized pipe from the pond water to a hydrant that has a capped outlet to which a hose may be attached. (Brooklin, Maine)
Tuesday’s (December 4’s) sunset over Great Cove, shown here, made it easy to understand why sun worship is part of most recorded history.
The Egyptians prayed to Ra, the sun god, and Moses cautioned the Israelites not to be seduced by the sun and moon and idolize them. The Greeks, Celts, Asians, and other civilizations also payed homage. Many Native Americans, especially the Plains Indians (but including the Iroquois), considered the sun as a life-giving force. Not a bad idea, allegorically speaking. Here’sTuesday’s afterglow:
(Brooklin, Maine)
Here we see Dear Abbie: in Naskeag Harbor yesterday, one of the boats that switched from lobster fishing to fishing for Atlantic Sea Scallops this month:
These boats had to be re-rigged as trawlers with masts and booms, which pull and hoist the dredges that scrape up the delicious mollusks. Some boats also are platforms for SCUBA divers who hand-harvest “Diver Scallops” in certain areas. Tarr Baby, below, is one of those:
Scallop fishing is highly regulated in Maine waters, where the season lasts 50, 60, or 70 days, depending on zone. For environmental protection, those fishing days are spread over a few days each month from December into April, with some additional November dates available for diving. The daily limit is 15 gallons (shucked on board) per licensed fisherman.
We get our fresh diver scallops from neighbor David Tarr, who Captains Tarr Baby. (Brooklin, Maine)
It’s officially The Christmas Season here: the Brooklin General Store’s wreath and holiday lights are out, as you can see from this image taken Monday, December 3:
Historically, one of the many charms of a small town was one or more general stores that could act as community hubs. Most general stores appear to be gone now, but not ours. The BGS is the latest (and best) in a line of general stores that extends back at least to 1872, with minor lapses. The Store’s welcoming lights are the beginning of that “finally home” feeling when returning on a dark winter night. It’s also a place to stop for coffee on a snowy day, such as November 16:
The Store not only sells basic groceries, it’s where you can have breakfast and conversation before dawn; a café for lunch; a place to get gas, oil, and air for the car; a State tagging station for successful deer hunters, and the last-chance to pick up beer, wine, fresh pizza, and/or dessert on the way home. Click on image to enlarge it. (Brooklin, Maine)
The weather seems more personal in a small Maine coastal town. You live with it like a companion. When it’s foul, it’s a betrayal; when it’s beautiful, it’s a loving touch. When it’s both, it’s a forgive-me gift. Yesterday was a forgive-me gift. It mostly was the small misery of combined fog and rain:
Then, at about 4 p.m., the horizon brightened. The low sun suddenly appeared over Great Cove, took a brief bow, and left, trailing behind an immense orange train through the arriving darkness.
Then, a crescent moon in a cloudy sky. (Brooklin, Maine)
Neighbor Judith Fuller’s Naskeag Road banner this special morning was a greeting in which we all can join.
(Brooklin, Maine)
It’s the morning of Saturday, December 1, and we’re looking southwest over Great Cove toward some of the smaller islands in Eggemoggin Reach.
We can’t help wondering what JMW Turner, the patron saint of nautical light lovers, would do with this scene. Brush in a ship of the line in slack wind? No; too much; not apt. A silhouetted hint of a Friendship sloop still fishing the cold waters? Uh-uh; distracting. We decide that grumpy Joe would smile, take a few notes, sketch a few lines, and keep the scene as a memory, unchanged. (Brooklin, Maine)
