#251 Watching Surfers at Higgins

Once in a while I'll check the Higgins Beach web cam to see if there's any action, and head over if there is and if I can. I used to think I was torturing myself - I haven't been able to continue my rookie surfing for a variety of health reasons. But there's still something about the sport I just can't resist.

Maybe it's the memory of my own short-lived experience of paddling out on a beautiful, quiet early spring morning, and sitting on my ghetto board waiting for a set. I remember looking out over the ocean and feeling my heart swell when I realized there wasn't any other place in the universe I'd rather be at that moment than right there, right then. It was pure joy.

Of course there was the crap shoot of picking a good little wave, the chaos of paddling like a madwoman to catch it, and the exhilaration of being lifted up on to a wave so powerful that stark terror and pure ecstasy became one and the same thing.

Surfing is a lot of things to a lot of people. For me it was totally spiritual. I continue to be in awe.

Watching Surfers at Higgins • 8" X 8" framed to 12" X 12" • $250

SOLD - Robins

I was looking out my window in Kingfield last week and saw what looked like 20 robins foraging in the back yard. I had planted a couple of rows of peas and spinach, so I knew the ground had thawed. Guess the robins figured out that where I dig, there must be worms.

Though the robin was always the first bird I noticed in the spring when I was a kid, a lot of robins hang around all winter these days. Could be a climate change thing, because American plains' tribes attributed robin sightings to the return of the sun - the beginning of spring. It's red chest was symbolic of the rising of the sun, its bright yellow beak of the sun's rays lighting the earth with hope. 

Some tribes believed the sun rose and set on the wings of the robin.  Others believed the white ring around the red robin's eye was symbolic of prophetic vision, clarity, and great wisdom.

I was going to do a quick sketch of a robin or two out in the yard - but found myself captivated by their features. They really are beautiful birds. Sad to say, I always thought they were kind of boring. Not anymore.

Here's a link to their song - it's a nice compliment to the sweet chickadee tweet before the snowbirds return and it gets so clamorous out there it's hard to hear the individuals.

https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/American_Robin/sounds 

Robins • 8" X 8" acrylice framed to 12" X 12"• $250

SOLD - The Black Cap Tweet

During a morning stroll down a dirt road close to our home in Kingfield, I was blown away by a cacophony of bird chat coming from a pine canopy up to my left. It sounded like a political convention in there. Chickadees were engaged in friendly dialog about world peace and economic inequality. They'll probably solve the issues before any of the bozos running for office these days do, I concluded.

Determined not to give in to a sour mental interuption to a beautiful day, I continued on my way thoroughly enchanted by our state birdies.

The Black Cap Tweet • 8" X 8" framed to 12" X 12" • $200