The fog rolled in one afternoon last week and this boat sailed off into the mist.
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.
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…
Just another day in the life.
The fog has settled in just as it should at a lighthouse. I woke in the middle of the night and heard it dripping from the Keeper’s building. It’s funny how the dampness obscures some things and amplifies others.
I heard voices which sounded just as if they were on the walkway but instead they were coming from a lobster boat off the island.
The dew makes spider webs more visible and there are plenty of them about.
This view is a little different from just a day ago.
We saw an old friend, Jim, who has spent so much time and energy on this island. He was happy to see what great shape it is in, which is a credit to the Friends of Seguin, the caretakers and their dedicated Wednesday Warriors. We enjoyed an al fresco dinner aboard Finisterre. My journal posts reveal, four years ago, we dined aboard SV Guillemot, which may have been an Outward Bound boat.
Our return to the island showed it in its glory, shining brightly. At least we could see its glow.
You need some fog to get this wonderful umbrella effect.
I am still hopeful we will see a few more sunsets before it is time to go. We will have to actually see the sun for this to happen.
Nothing is more magical than the shadows the light casts at night.
And it is lovely during the day too.
The fog and rain came and went all day. I occasionally heard the prolonged horn blast of a ship somewhere out in the mist.
So we worked on rainy day projects. I did some – ahem- compost management. This entailed cleaning the fridge of old food and emptying the composting toilet tray. Always fun.
The flies had plagued us since we arrived. Not biting flies, just annoying ones. I had visions of us destroying the house’s interior and furnishings with a fly swatter. I collected several while I vacuumed. Score. Then, suddenly, they were gone. Maybe they were just testing us until we settled in. Knock on wood please.
Tim went to work on the mowers, the blades were already sharpened, so he changed the oil. If you ever are in the market for a ride on mower, NEVER buy the Gravely zero turn models. They paid no attention to the acrobatics and manual dexterity you need to merely open the oil drain plug. Even though Tim wrote down what worked for us last year, we both ended up bleeding. Shame on them. But it is fun to operate.
Due solely to Tim’s determination, we got the job done. I think I would have thrown up my hands, cursed a bit, which I did anyway, and walked away.
The pump house may need a whitewash but my door frame held up nicely.
Tim’s brother, who passed away last year, rebuilt the door and I want to keep it looking spiff for him.
So many memories from the last 11 years we have been here and more to come.
Photographs only show one aspect of island living. From the moment we arrived, I could hear the bell buoy ringing when the waves rocked it. Today I felt, rather than saw, the fog roll in. First the sun’s warmth disappeared and then a cool dampness followed. Happily I have nothing to report about smells or tastes.
Island work. When you can’t call a plumber, just make sure you have enough hose clamps on hand. I started the process of filling the cistern in the keeper’s quarters and found water in the pump house after I had started. Two pipes don’t quite fit together, so I adjusted things a bit and added another hose clamp to the gang.
The system is designed to be drained but this is a bit much. And the water has so much iron in it, I couldn’t wear my shoes back in the house for all the rust in the water I stood in.
But it was another beautiful day in paradise. Yesterday we mowed, I got to ride the crazy lawn mower without a steering wheel. It takes a little getting used to but can spin 360’s effortlessly, which makes it easier to avoid hitting rocks.
Rides sweet but is a royal pain to change the oil, which we did earlier this week. Definitely not mechanic friendly.
Look at how nice the lawn looks.
I bet the sun will set today despite the fog.
The sound of fog
First of all baby, mom, dad, brother and her Pops are all doing well. She was discharged to home yesterday after a brief stay in the neonatal intensive care unit. I’m usurping her dad’s photo recently shared on facebook, here she is.
Isn’t she precious? I only have one sleeve left to knit and she will have a sweater. Hat and booties are next.
While the family bonds on the east coast, I continue to be the only person on this island, and it is fabulous. I am finding that I experience it differently on my own. For one thing, it makes me realize how many little things Tim is always doing – spraying seagull s**t off the house and solar panels, dishes, and just being a wonderful companion. But … I am not making as many dirty dishes because my meals are very simple and desserts are fewer.
Now I am responsible for keeping things running. I’ve been mowing, weed whacking, doing some projects for Fish and Wildlife, filling the water tower, and cleaning the boat and dock, and filing reports. I’m keeping active with long walks every day. And of course I weave and knit.
The seagulls are in full nesting mode around the cabin and I do my tasks quickly while one or two guard gulls yell at me. I hope I don’t have to don the hard hats I see lying about. The barn swallows have little ones in a nest directly over the picnic table, which cannot be moved for a variety of reasons, and are making a big mess there. They poop before they land in the nest and right after they take off – on the picnic table. We’ll reclaim the table when they leave.
Yesterday I awoke to thick fog. I couldn’t see beyond the edge of the lawn. I heard water dripping off the windows and roof but the air was thick. As I drank my cuppa in the cozy cabin, I looked outside and saw the two river otters exit from under the porch, scamper across the lawn and head to the bluff.
The fog cleared around the cabin mid morning and I went to the other side of the island to do some work. I could tell fog was rolling in again because I could hear ships’ foghorns, in the Strait of Juan de Fuca. The sound was wonderful, I felt more than heard the low tones of the various horns. I went to the bluff to try to see them but it was too socked in. There is an app for the phone called Marine Traffic. Commercial boats and some pleasure boats have Automatic Identification System (AIS), automatic transmission of their name, location and course, ideally to prevent collisions. I use the app to identify ships I see off the island. It shows photos, course and final destination. Cruise ships leave Seattle and sail by on their way to Juneau all the time. Here’s this morning’s screen shot. You can see marine traffic anywhere in the world.
The other day I saw a dozen eagles flying together, off the bluffs near the marina fighting over some bounty.
I’m especially mindful of my own personal safety now that I am here alone. I wear a life vest when I clean the dock. Look at this toxic plume I created yesterday from seagull s**t.
And I found a perfect way to listen to my music, podcasts, books without bursting my ear drums while I mow and weed wack. Before, I just turned the volume way up. Then I found these babies and can hear my music, etc. at a normal volume. But I can’t hear the fog or the foghorns.
Fifty shades of grey
I mean fog. We had another perfect day of lighthouse weather. Rain and fog. The fog horn blew all day but it’s much quieter than I remember. The windows are closed but I think it’s more than that.
I could tell the fog would settle last night. There was a feeling in the air. More damp and still. The scenery came in and out of focus all day as the fog lifted and fell. We could often hear a boat engine without being able to spot any boat. The birds frolicked all day.
Wool socks kept me happy on the trails. They were saturated but my feet were warm. I donned full foulies for a trip to the cove and was quite content- rain and all.
We cleared some sumac and I made a Hawaiian pizza and apple pie. Another amazing day.
I spent the past day piecing the borders of my kaleidoscope quilt. All that remains is to quilt the three layers – quilt top, batting and bottom. The quilt top took five months. I’ll probably spend the same amount of time quilting by both machine and hand sewing. In the end, it looks a bit dark but is still neat to look at through squinted eyes to see the different patterns emerge.
Kaleidoscope quilt top
It seems as if Pleasant Valley has been draped in fog the past few days. I enjoyed some brief, glorious sunshine and temperature in the 70’s today but by the time I returned home, so had the fog.