Friday, July 9, 2021

#416 • We Really Do Need the Rain


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Figured I'd throw in a memory of what summer looks like. Been pretty extreme up here, so extreme I'm beginning to wonder if maybe I have Ozzie and Harriet syndrome. Or it may be the universe trying to slow down the plundering of Maine by suggesting the real Maine. In the meantime, I do recall an elderly friend telling me that this can be a typical summer in Maine. I also remember another ancient telling me that we don't swim in Maine before July 4th, as a rule.
It's tough being a sailor and a gardener (actually more like a weeder) in this state. Whatever is going on, and regardless of forces beyond our control, we really do need the rain. Plus I really do look fabulous, and like a typical Mainer in the summer actually, with my thin hair soaked and stuck to my head, my 20 year old bagged out yellow LL Bean rain slicker and old black high top galoshes!
We Really Do Need the Rain • 8" x 8" acrylic framed to 12" x 12" • $250

Monday, May 31, 2021

#415 • Kay's Barns


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If you travel up this way on Route 27, you've probably noticed these barns sitting back off the road a ways in New Vineyard. They're probably two of the most beautiful and well-maintained structures in these parts, and serve as a real homage to a way of life that supported so many Maine families for so long. 

Today, working farms are making a comeback thanks to an influx of new young people and an infusion of their energy into an old way of life. While farming can be challenging, it's perfect for those who love Earth and treasure the fruits she bears. For some, being physically beat feels better than being emotionally battered. There's nothing quite like planting a seed and watching it grow. To many of us, that's a miracle and a real privilege.

Kay's Barns • 8" x 8" acrylic frame to 12" x 12" • $250

Thursday, April 22, 2021

414 • Earth Day 2021

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It's Earth Day 2021! 

If I didn't have work to do I would have gone for a hike up Wee Mountain with Sue. As I write this, I realize I shoulda, woulda, coulda chucked the work and gone anyway because, well, it's Earth Day. From now on, I will always spend some time outside in the woods, in a field, on a mountain or water on Earth Day even if the snow is blowing sideways out there as it is now. It will remind me why this planet is so special.

Earth Day 2021 • 8" x 8" acrylic framed to 12" x 12" • $250

Tuesday, April 13, 2021

#413 • Surprised By Spring Brights


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We're in a drought right now, but a good spring deluge will bust open those beautiful brights in the trees. What begins as a hazy yellowish halo will blow open seemingly overnight, painting another shade of green until summer's deeps. The pop always surprises me no matter how vigilant I am and how much money I put down on a sure date.

We're lucky we get to witness these changes - it's a more positive reminder in our lives that the only constant is change.

Surprised By Spring Brights • 8" x 8" acrylic framed to 12" x 12" • $250

Monday, April 5, 2021

#412 • Wait Is Not What Spring Is


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This time of year I never get tired of watching spring try to flirt her way around winter. It's a clever sidling up to and gentle nudge against the old man for air space. Like a typical youngling who won't wait or listen to ancient wisdom that frequently warns her to hold off because the old man ain't finished yet, these fragile green shoots are impatient and won't wait. They can't. Wait is not what they are, what spring is.

Wait Is Not What Spring Is • 8" x 8" acrylic framed to 12" x 12" • $250

Monday, March 29, 2021

#411 • Chickadees In the Wind

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We have a gang of chickadees around here flitting all over the place, mostly in the lilacs. They're also serenading us in the morning from the telephone wire outside our second floor bedroom window. I've always wondered what happens to them in a big wind, like the gusting 45-55 bully we have right now. I'm thinking it could be a trip to spread my wings and sail on it, but these little tweeties would probably end up somewhere between here and Europe. Here's what I found out.

Chickadees will return to their houses like we do if they have one. If the little dears have no nest or a cavity to climb into, they will shelter in trees, or on the lee side of a tree trunk and/or bush. If the wind shifts, so will they to the other side. Because perching birds' feet grip when they relax, they can hold on during high winds with very little effort effort. Who knew?

In the meantime they are not eating, so Tom filled our bird feeder with a deluxe lasagna dinner mix for them to feast on in the aftermath.

Chickadees In the Wind • 8" x 8" acrylic framed to 12" x 12" • $250

Thursday, March 11, 2021

#410 • Maybe It Will Be Different This Year


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Here we go again. It happens every year. A string of warm sunny days and we all knowingly get suckered into thinking spring is just around the other side of that birch over there. A real Mainer knows spring doesn't arrive until sometime in Maybe. In the meantime, I got suckered and did this little thought. You know what they say about insanity - it's thinking that maybe it will be different this year even though it hasn't for an eon or so.

Maybe It Will Be Different This Year • 8" x 8" acrylic framed to 12" x 12" • $250