ready for rain?

The first (small, modest) Pacific storm of the season arrived today - it would be good if we could have one a week like that: not stronger, and no drought.  But uncertain how much rain would descend, I did what I've been meaning to do for weeks, and decanted the collapsing sandbags, and indeed much sand that's dispersed over the past few years, into some new bags.  I know these won't ultimately be enough, and I should go to the fire station and get some more; and yes, I did read with interest some articles this week claiming that duct tape is as good or better (though that doesn't answer the question about what to do if you want to take the car in or out of the garage ...).  The problem we have is two-fold: the garage is on a bend, and when rain comes down really heavily it jumps the curb; and then there's a flat space where rain puddles ...  But this was sufficient reinforcement for now.

And then, yes, the rain did arrive, and not just the sandbags but the new gutter guards and piping did their job ...

 

The Winged Victory of Samothrace

I truly don't understand this headless angel: nothing, so far as I can see, to do with Hallowe'en (unless as a counter-force?) - rather, she, and her counterpart (for there are two of them) seem to be guarding over a perfectly normal modest house on Virgil.  I mean - I'm assuming she's not really an angel, but the Winged Victory of Samothrace (now in the Louvre) - the lack of arms as well as head rather confirm that, although the breasts seem a little too pointed and, er, prominent compared with the original Nike.  And also - her wings are gilded.  But even elucidating all of that doesn't explain why there are two replicas of this Greek statue visible on my drive home.

 

waving at you

It is, of course, Halloween season again.  I have something of a sense (yes, I know it's only October 19th, but still) that the decorations aren't as copious or as elaborate this year as they've been in the past, but some of the houses that one annually looks forward to are on fine form.  This waving skelly was new to me (I was taking a back street route from mailing stuff at the post office), but makes for a quintessentially Californian sight.

 

reservoir grasses

We're still on east coast time (and Alice is back out to Madison and Chicago tomorrow), so we were up very early to walk at the reservoir.  These pink grasses are so pretty.  We're meant to have lots in our back yard ... but last year they all bloomed white, not pink (which was pretty, too), and this year there's no sign of them sprouting flowers at all.  So I'll borrow these for my seasonal pleasure.

 

back!

We were welcomed back in style by Moth and Gramsci - clearly very glad to see us, even if Iris, their cat sitter, looks after them impeccably well.  Here's Grams, in a scratching box that also functions as a safe hiding spot from which to leap out at Moth ...

 

on our way back

A plum colored morning in Vinalhaven; a very grey ferry ride, and then a wet wet wet wet wet drive back to Boston - from where we'll be leaving at some early hour ...

It's been a terrific and very full couple of weeks.

 

more Vinalhaven. and lobsters for dinner

An excellent quiet day in Vinalhaven - there really is nothing like an island, and this one reminds me so much of the Île aux Moines, the other side of the Atlantic - so of course the minute I set foot on it, I loved it to bits.

Rocks, seaweed,

and a hike with a monarch butterfly, and, on a tiny off-shore island, lots of seals (not pictured),

and Alice and Charlotte trekking valiantly through the bushes - Charlotte's hat making her look very like Vera ...

The Historical Society was full of documents and images of the island's granite industry - followed by netting (not so much for fish, but nets to keep flies off horses), domestic crafts and life; local businesses, and of course lobstering.

Did I say lobsters?  Of course, it was very fresh lobsters for dinner:

trying to put out of our mind the fact that they'd been in the ocean enjoying their lobstery lives this morning.

And then the moon and stars over a quiet Vinalhaven night.

dawn to dusk - Bar Harbor to Vinalhaven

From our room balcony this morning - pure Sugimoto marine fog.  Somewhere out there there's a cruise liner, but one couldn't, by that point, tell that.

Driving away from town - misty bogs and trees.

Over the bridge at Barnsport - itself spectacular, and with a formidable looking ... what?  prison?  military installation? on the right - googling showed that it was Fort Knox! but it was long past by the time I found that out...

Then the Farnsworth Museum in Rockland, with lots of Andrew Wyeth as well as Maine art - I'd post examples if we weren't staying in a friend's house with no internet and only very shaky phone coverage, so I'm typing fast while I have a bar or two of contact ...

... and it is, indeed, isolate, on Vinalhaven, an island off the mainland: an hour and a quarter on a ferry to get here, and then the most extraordinary, beautiful, seaweed-filled sunset.

 

a wet day in Acadia National Park

It was wet - very wet. Before it got to extremely wet, we went for a walk along the southern shoreline of the Acadia National Park, with me wondering at every turn who painted what where - this looks very much like a Frederic Church sunrise location, but obviously there wasn't much sun today.  Indeed, none.

This was dramatically barren (and wet).

There are some terrific little paths between thick granite walls - this went up to Otter Point (no otters in sight, alas).

The wet woods around the Wild Gardens of Acadia were stunning -

and here are two of my book chapters collapsed into one shot - a slug, and some very striking lichen.

Out of the park, we drove to Mother's Kitchen, which had been recommended to us (and yes, I'd recommend the curried chickpea sandwich), and this seasonal decoration was round the back - pumpkins in buoy nets.

Since it then became even wetter, we were very glad indeed to be in a comfortable, dry hotel ...

 

Acadia peninsula and Blue Hill

Extraordinarily beautiful views from our balcony this morning - silver and blue light.

A short drive to Seal Beach, with plenty of kayakers in very fancy kayaks, and lots of seaweed-

and a guy shoveling seaweed (straight out of my seaweed chapter!) but also rather juxtaposing the difference between the moneyed and unmoneyed in northern Maine.  This seaweed will be used as fertilizer - apparently it's especially good for tomato plants.

Driving anywhere today was sheer autumnal beauty.

Then up to Blue Hill, where Lisa Durkee, an old and dear friend is pastor of the First Congregationalist Church - a stunningly beautiful church, inside and out, with what I think of as old church, pre Gothic revival proportions - the building dates from 1843. She is doing wonderful work there, not least with social and food programs benefiting those in need over a fairly wide area.  And it was just terrific to see her again: I've known her since 1994, when she took a Bread Loaf class with me on the Brontës and George Eliot - my first summer ever in Santa Fe - and then over some subsequent years there - years without which I'd never have got to know New Mexico, and probably would never have moved to the US ...

One of the very striking windows in the church - Angel with the Anchor - by Mary Tillinghast, from the late 1900s: she was a pupil of Carolus Duran, in Paris; had a disastrous business relationship with John LaFarge, and was overall a completely fascinating woman and designer.

And here's Lisa, with another old Bread Loaf face, Larry Abbott, who'd driven up to say hello - great to see him, too! - as we had a picnic lunch down by the port.

Walking through the woods to and from the Blue Hill Co-op - which reinforced the image of the community as an envisbly socially responsible one.  A terrific day.

 

more bits of Maine

Another impressive sunrise in Lincolnville, and then a very fine heron on the shore.

The view from the top of Mount Battie, just outside Camden/Lincolnville - seeing the lines of cars yesterday to go up this (very small) mountain, we thought we'd better wait until early this morning, which was definitely the right decision.

Off down the Blue Hill peninsular, with a stop on Caterpillar Hill - 

full of bilberries, autumnal wild flowers, and a view down to Walker Pond, where there was a particularly nasty British massacre of the Wabanaki in the late 1600s or early 1700s.

Onwards to Stonington, and these flowers in a coffee shop,

and much evidence of lobstering.

The view from our exceedingly comfortable hotel, just outside Bar Harbor - grey weather, still 

and this, in a bookstore in downtown Bar Harbor, a very effective display of banned/censored books.  It's been fascinating driving round Maine, from a political point of view - many Susan Collins - Our Senator signs, but also many others not just supporting Troy Jackson, but drawing spot-on parallels between T---- and inflation, war, and so on.