reflections on sky and sea

When we moved from our boat to a permanent home, I had one request, well actually two. The first was that I wanted to be able to see lots of sky, wide expanses to watch weather fronts sweep by, with the occasional rainbow for good luck. The second was that the kitchen be bigger than the boat’s galley. We found both but the kitchen is only barely bigger than the boat’s. And in fact, the storage on the boat was better.

Home has open sky and mountains around us. The mountains limit our views of the actual sunrise and sunset, we see it when it appears over or sinks behind them. Alas, it’s not quite the same as open expanses of sky and sea. Here on Schoodic point, we enjoy a vast view of the sky, the clouds and the sea. And our spaceship, water tower.

Even the reflection of sunset on Little Moose Island is striking.

The ice is finally all gone. The ponds in the rocks can once again reflect the clouds and sky. I’ll enjoy these views for a few more days before we head back to the mountains and home.

the sky isn’t falling, it’s on fire!

Every day for the past 5 months we “do the rounds” at Schoodic Institute. We walk the campus and make sure all is well: all the doors are shut, the lights are off and water isn’t leaking anywhere. Up until now, it was often dark and icy when we walked the mile and a half around the grounds. Now that the clocks have sprung forward, we get to do it in the light. And sometimes just around sunset.

The other night was spectacular.

who needs northern lights?

We couldn’t get to the point in time to view it over the ocean but what we saw was mind blowing anyway.

Even a shed looks striking in this light. That’s the gym, where Tim works out most days.

And then on the way home, I found a tribute to Tim and Lynne (T & L) in the grass.

The park’s way of saying goodbye as our days here draw to a close.

a day like any other

So true, If my kids ask me what I did, I can’t distinguish one day from another. Got up, ate a little, surfed too much, saw nature, created something, made dinner, went to bed, repeat. The high points of course are seeing nature and creating and I have had plenty of time to do both here.

Spring in Maine, cold, wind and fog with a day or two of sunshine to entice. We’ve enjoyed walking the local trails on Schoodic peninsula again, right out our front door.

I have a renewed interest in geology. The formations on the point give some insight as to how the earth and its shoreline was formed.

These veins of black magna rose from the center of the earth and filled faults in the granite.

When the Navy was here, they installed a fence, right into the water line, along this fault to protect their secret operations at Schoodic Point. I only just noticed that RD left their mark too!

And I sat on a wet rock and left my mark as well.

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I choose to avoid the rocks covered in wet seaweed. I have been eating seaweed in various forms though. Dulse last night, some sort of fried, very salty “sea vegetable”.

While Tim enjoyed getting close to the breaking waves.

We’ve seen the first couple of boats working the waters.

When we can see through the fog.

I cook and cook…

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And create…

Just another day in the life.

Me and my backstrap

This little loom has traveled around the world with me. It is so compact because I am part of the loom.

It is made up of a “C” clamp, a backstrap, which is, like it says, a strap that goes around my back, cards and me. My backstrap is a little crooked but it was my first attempt at weaving without a loom from an article by Laverne Waddington and holds a special place in my heart. I encourage you to look at the amazing pieces she creates with only a backstrap and dowels!

I can recall my long gone cats wandering around as I sat on the floor weaving it. A Swedish modification is the two pieces of wood on a wire I use to attach it to me and my backstrap. My modification is I no longer sit on the floor. I can always find a place to attach or tie the end of my weaving.

Those square cards are what make this a four shaft loom for card weaving.

This little device has brought me hours of fun wherever we may be. I needed a diversion last week so took it out of the drawer and wove a tencel band from a photo I saw on Pinterest.

Now what to do with it?

Lunar cycles

The light from the full moon kept me awake for about 4 hours the other night. Turns out, 500 miles away, my grandson was also awake during the same time. If only I had known, we could have Face Timed into the wee hours. He napped, I did not.

Years ago as an ob/ gyn resident, I did some research on lunar cycles. There is a superstition on the Labor and Delivery ward that it is much busier during a full moon.

My research did not support that but I did learn that it affects ovulation. Predators conceive so their young are born during a full moon while prey are born in the darkness of a new moon.

Black ice forms spontaneously here and makes our evening rounds fairly treacherous. Luckily, it has warmed up for now and we may get a reprieve. However, the change in the weather was accompanied by gale force wind and sleet.

So I have been playing inside. My little sewing machine lived up to the task of sewing and quilting the rainbow quilt, which is now complete.

I only free motion quilted the center and border; the rest was straight lines. I included some of the fabric from his brother’s quilt.

The best part about this quilt is I plan to hand deliver it. It’s been 9 months since we have seen our children and grand darlings. It’s time.

Make time to look at clouds

It’s well worth it. Try to spend a few moments every day, wherever you are, looking up at the sky. It does a world of good.

Clouds following the shape of the inlet

I looked at a tree and found the moon

A walk in nature does wonders as well. Maine trees are so tenacious their roots grow up.

And on the home front, here’s a great technique to know your pan is the right temperature to sear anything. On a medium high setting, put a tablespoon of butter and oil in the pan, when the butter stops foaming, it’s time.

Sometimes it helps to look down as well.

Be prepared

The snow had been glorious here in Acadia, until the sky dumped a few inches of icy slush on top of it this week.

Rockefeller Hall, Schoodic Institute

We got to shovel that mess while it was still raining sleet. With the right protective outerwear, including hand knit wool mohair gloves, I remained dry. Well my hands weren’t dry but they were still warm.

When the snow was still fluffy, we skied the carriage roads here on the Schoodic peninsula and on Mt. Desert Island (referred to as MDI if you don’t want to worry about how to pronounce dessert as dessert here).

Schoodic trail

Tim whisked me away to Deer Isle for Valentine’s day (I made him another mask, three layers with two layers of cloth sewn around a surgical mask) and we skied and walked in the woods.

I came upon this memorial bench. Apparently George is still kicking but they are prepared to remember him.

Eyes on the ground

We hope to continue dodging bullets. Another employee had to quarantine due to secondary exposure so we haven’t met yet. We had last week to ourselves and spent time exploring. Sometimes it’s the small things that matter. I found a way to bushwhack to the beautiful shore without crossing any roads. Small victory. But the other day, I lost my oldest face mask. One that I sewed early on and carried with me during my daily walks since March. It wasn’t necessarily my favorite, but we’ve been together through snow, rain and heat and a good part of the pandemic.

While I was exploring the rocky coast, I saw another person! I took out my mask but we stayed far apart and it wasn’t needed. Then I bushwhacked back home. Somewhere along the way, I lost my mask. I was actually mildly distraught. Not really, but it was the mask that I had kept looped on my phone holder (made from a cross stitch project I made in my teens, with a new tablet woven band added) for all that time. So yesterday, we retraced my steps. On the way out, nothing. It had been very windy when I lost it so I looked in the bushes surrounding the trail. While Tim wandered further down the rocks, some of which were icy, I kept looking. Nothing. So we headed home.

The beginning of the walk is a little uncertain and we had to backtrack, just like I did the other day. And then…there frozen in a puddle, was my missing mask. My day was made. If we hadn’t become a little turned around, it could still be lying there. Small victory.

I saw this heart rock while hiking the other day and it cheered me up.

Nature’s colors are often inspirations for art and crafts. I think this rainbow hat mirrors the ground covers.

A lot of research is conducted in the park. I took a closer look at these garden plots because they had some colors I was surprised to see in nature and wanted to see what little plants they were. Instead they turned out to be tiny plastic swords – markers for a plant project? Or perhaps signs of an end of season party.

Windswept, rocky coasts sing to me.

Reunited.