Sunsets and reflections

As summer comes to a close, the sun is setting further south and can finally be seen dipping below the horizon here. Sunset is a very busy time at Bass Harbor Head Lighthouse. Everyone hopes for that perfect photo. One night people abandoned their cars on the road so as not to miss it since the parking lot was full. If I sit in the living room, I can see people running down the hill to catch their photos.

Rather than join the crowd lately, I have enjoyed my own views.

This was a beauty.

Sunset and the 1961 bell reflected in the bell house window.

Sunset and bell reflection, and shadows on the bell house.

I march to my own drummer. This seems to be especially true when I swim. My watch tracks my path when we swim in Echo lake.

Apparently I swim in circles.

I spun a lot of wool while talking to visitors outside the lighthouse. I’ll have plenty of lovely yarn to work with for months to come.

It’s almost a wrap and I am enjoying the beauty of these last few days.

Time to explore

The bees around the lighthouse are busy pollinating the marigolds, beach roses and ragwort. My neighbor spotted a few bees at my hive. I suspect they are merely robbers but time will tell.

We took the Maine DOT ferry to Swans Island last week with bikes and had a grand time despite all the hills. One stop was the Burnt Coat Harbor Lighthouse. It shows what a community working together can accomplish. From about 2007 to now, they restored it to its current, pristine state. Well worth the stop.

After another hike, we drove Acadia’s Park Loop Road. We saw first hand some of the parking issues elsewhere in the park. There was a mile long line of cars parked alongside the popular Sand Beach.

We found some quiet spots anyway – not at Sand Beach

As summer rolls by, many beautiful boats pass the lighthouse.

They make us wonder, for a moment, if we would like another boat, besides Sparky.

Just for a moment.

The hammock offers a peaceful retreat from the crowds. There is usually a breeze and it rocks me right to sleep.

While the sunset is beautiful, we discovered you can’t actually see the sun sink below the horizon from the rocks, in summer. It’s a winter spectacle when it sets further south.

And here we are

Bass Harbor Head Lighthouse

It has taken a little while to settle in. The keeper’s house was freshly painted with new furniture when we arrived. We spent the first several weeks in fairly intense NPS training but have learned enough about the park, its geology, trails, and carriage roads to advise visitors. Last week, we donned our uniforms and fielded questions.

Love the hat

Mostly people want to know : 1) how do you get to live here ; 2) where can I take the photo we see on the internet; and 3) where is a good place to eat lobster?

Heading downhill to our quarters

We are used to being “a bit more” isolated than this but are adjusting. As with many places in the park, there is not enough parking, which creates a backup on the road to the lighthouse.

The oil house

The lantern with its 4th fresnel lens

We haven’t been up the tower yet but may get a chance tomorrow.

Reflections

As with many lighthouses, there are beautiful sunsets and rainbows.

Past peak but not too bad

This could relate to many things, including me, but today I am talking about deciduous trees.

Fall in the Adirondacks is glorious and brief. Catch it while you can. Cold fronts with high winds blow the remaining leaves off the trees, which happened again this year.

There’s often a rainbow after rainy weather and stormy skies.

And sunsets from the cabin are stunning. It’s nice to be home to enjoy these views.

Small treasures and big sky

We’ve been busy, shutting down the island in earnest. We often have helpers for a couple of days but the seas did not cooperate this year.

We still find plenty of time to enjoy all the island offers. We spent a couple of hours in the cove that other morning and I found treasures combing the beach.

I tossed this guy back into the sea because he was still alive. I found more snails cavorting and a piece of green sea glass – bingo!

It has been a wet year. The weather station recorded 100 inches of rain! Good for mushrooms.

I heard a strange bird sound the other morning and we found a pair of peregrine Falcons admiring the fresnel lens.

Wonders never cease. A few cold fronts skidded by, hence the lack of visitors, but they created interesting clouds.

And, of course, sunsets.

And sunrises.

inspired by nature

Sunsets are guaranteed to happen every day, some more beautiful than others. We only have to marvel at them.

The palette inspires my weaving.

I am making more napkins on my table loom. We lost one of the two I made in Maine this winter so now I am making six for home.

My band weaving group is going to meet again after more than a year apart. I was inspired to try a 3 heddle technique on my inkle loom. I had to correct a few threading mishaps but now this will be easy weaving while we chat away the afternoon.

Aran meets Japan

I’m using a Japanese stitch pattern to make an Aran style baby sweater. Similar but different. It seems more delicate and lacy.

Kaleidescope quilt blocks

Down another rabbit hole. I am trying a new quilt technique where you cut 6 (or 8) identical triangles and arrange them into a hexagon. I use a hinged mirror to predict the outcome and plan the layout.

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One triangle three ways

I try to create a little something every day. And keep a sense of wonder.

taking a step back

Sometimes the sky is so beautiful, I photograph it through the living room window.

Last night I reached a new low (or high). I didn’t even get off the couch.

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.

Serendipity

I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me that this might happen, we all knew it would, but it came as a total surprise to me. I had painted during the day until my hand was a claw and quit work and walked to the point for sunset. It was windy and cold and I kept trying to tuck in under the cover of rocks while I waited. The days are already growing longer, sunset is at 4:00 pm.

I’m reminded I have to return to this site at high tide, and when it’s windy, to see the waves crash in this cut. The ground covers catch my eye, especially since I spend so much time looking at my feet when I walk on rocks.

But back to the sunset.

Here’s proof that the sun really is a star. Every shot I took captured a six pointed star.

I hiked around the point, still trying to keep out of the wind, and after I found a stable place to stand, I turned around and was stunned to find this handsome fellow.

What a treat. Full moon should make our night rounds easy, no flashlights needed.

A departing gift

We had a short stay on Seguin this year but it delivered plenty of joy. The trails were in great shape and we walked them all.

We dripped in fog for days – not a good time to try to dry newly spun yarn or laundry. A gale came through with winds of 40 mph. We dined out aboard a sailboat and we tucked the island in. The lens sparkled brightly even with its new solar powered LED light.

Friday, our last full day on the island, began with fog, which turned to rain, and ended with double rainbows at sunset. What a treat.

Islands always give more than they take.