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Posts Tagged ‘photos’

 

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Something surprising happened the other day. Diana showed up with a portrait of me that I had no idea she was working on.

The teacher in her watercolor class had assigned the topic “umbrage.” Paint umbrage. My friend thought, How on earth? Then she remembered a photo I sent her in June after a #familiesbelongtogether protest. She decided to incorporate the “shade” meaning of umbrage with the “angry” meaning — the trees with the protest. I love the colors in this — and the light and shadow.

I’m including a couple other light and shadow themes today. My sister and I both took photos of frost on our windows. The main difference: her frost is on the inside! As much as she loves her New York apartment, the time has come for new windows. The landlord is finally interacting with the city as the historic building needs special permits for new windows.

Sandra M. Kelly caught the sunset at my favorite island. I love how the sun streams down through the clouds.

The next shot shows how the late afternoon light hits the river birches outside the library. That was the view behind the poets at the last poetry reading. It took me a few days to find the sun at that angle again so I could come back for a picture.

We had a lot of birds near our feeder during the recent polar vortex. Also squirrels. Maybe a rabbit. Can you read tracks? I would love to know if I had a rabbit.

My granddaughter (red shirt) chose an ice-skating theme for her birthday party this year, making good use of the backyard rink.

Janet Schwartz painted the lovely rainy traffic scene in a recent show at Concord Art. And John Brickels is the artist behind the collapsing house. Hmmm. Is that a metaphor for anything?

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No Christmas Snow

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A handful of snowflakes came down on Christmas Eve Day, but not enough for me to shoot a snowy picture. Although I was mighty tired of snow last March, I would have liked to see some this week.

A fresh snowfall is pretty, but I guess I’m glad the roads are dry. Our plan for Christmas is to watch John’s children open presents early, then come home and get ready for our Christmas dinner, which shouldn’t be hard as two of the world’s best cooks are bringing more than half the meal.

Suzanne, meanwhile, is in the Caribbean with the Swedish side of the family. Note the photo of her kids learning a traditional song from their Swedish-Danish cousins while dancing around the tree (actually, it’s a lamp this year) on an island that probably never sees snow.

In other December photos: John’s children getting creative with an erector set (who needs to know what the Ukrainian directions say?), an Amaryllis on Erik’s piano as well as his Santa Lucia and Swedish creche, early Christmas gift-opening before the trip to the Caribbean, and family members enjoying 80-degree weather. Finally, the Swedish tomtens that my husband and I received in time for Christmas.

I hope that those who celebrate this holiday have a merry one, and I send warm wishes to everyone. See you tomorrow.

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Today I’m posting recent photos, including a few gingerbread pictures that really get me into the spirit of the season.

The first is of a gingerbread house that two of my grandchildren decorated. You can see that they also made a garage from some extra pieces of gingerbread.

Next there’s one of my shadow pictures, followed by the random donkey that graces the yard at Boston’s old city hall.

Background for the photo after that: About a week ago all four grandchildren were at a Christmas crafts workshop where grownups in elf hats made everything run smoothly. The next day I found elf hats on parking meters around town.

Next are several gingerbread creations at annual displays in town. The tree house, hobbit house, Victorian advertisement for the Gentleman Handyman, and the Acton Dental house with Santa inside in the dentist chair are all at the Colonial Inn. The last gingerbread house is in the library and is created every year by a local physician who starts to work weeks in advance.

Finally, what’s this? Another shadow picture. A Christmas-y one this time.

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110518-amazing-shade-of-red-on-Japanese-mapleDid you read The Hobbit? Do you remember the thrilling moment when an ancient prophecy comes true as a “thrush knocks” and the sun briefly beams at a tiny spot on the wall of the Iron Mountain, revealing the forgotten keyhole to the dragon’s backdoor? No? Well, check it out.

I mention this ability of the sun to shine at a certain place only at a certain time because the photo below represents one of my attempts to run outside in a mad rush and capture how a particular solar angle projects the squares of the gate on the stone wall. It only happens a couple times a year because the sun keeps moving. (That is, the Earth keeps moving in relation to the sun.) In a few minutes the projection would be on the grass, not the wall. The following week, it wouldn’t happen at all. I totally lost out last spring, but managed to get this much in the fall. Stonehenge.

The first sculpture was by a grateful patient of Mass General Hospital in Boston. Next come sculptures seen from the cafe balcony at the Guggenheim Museum in New York. And, typical of the City That Never Sleeps, Insomnia Cookies will deliver until 3 a.m. The port-a-potty confirms Asakiyume’s contention that these ubiquitous accommodations are as creatively named as hair salons.

Then, I give you Central Park the Beautiful. What city would ever build something this magnificent today?

Finally, another of my favorite topics: the wonder of lichen.

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OK, New York is not a beautiful city in the sense of the traditional song (Dave Van Ronk sings “Oh, What a Beautiful City!” here), but that spiritual has been playing in my head today because I really like New York.

It’s definitely not a clean city. Every day of the week there are so many trash bags on the sidewalk that the garbage trucks often leave half behind for a later pass, and not-civic-minded New Yorkers toss last night’s take-out on the heap as they walk their children to school.

The electronic kiosks that I love featured a relevant quote by Fran Lebowitz this week: “When you leave New York, you are astonished at how clean the rest of the world is. Clean is not enough.”

Speaking of clean, Asakiyume once pointed out that the business that attracts almost as much creative naming as beauty salons is the porta-potty business, so the first photo below is for her collection.

Next I have two indoor photos, followed by several from beautiful Central Park. Having been warned never to go near the park when I walked the Corgi in the morning decades ago, I’m always astonished that today one can walk there early in the morning and join many other people — runners, bikers, dog walkers, children headed to school, sometimes a solitary practitioner of tai chi chuan.

I love the shadows at that time of day and the greenery, the park’s architectural touches, the benches with thoughtful quotes, the paths that beckon. It’s pretty magical.

Riffing off a Lawrence Block quote, another kiosk asked what was “the thing about New York, if you loved it, if it worked for you, it ruined you for anyplace else in the world”? New York doesn’t ruin anywhere for me, but I feel challenged to answer what is the main thing I like about New York: it’s just that it’s always interesting.

(More quotations about New York City here.)

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Except for the cannon balls at the Civil War monument in New York City, these photos are all from my walks in Massachusetts.

The town of Concord recognizes the International Day of Peace every year by putting up the flags of all members of the United Nations. This year I sent photos of my relatives’ countries of origin to them — Sweden and Egypt.

The Old Manse, run by the Trustees of Reservations, is decorating for fall. Its most famous tenants were author Nathaniel and artist Sophia Hawthorne. Tour guides like to show visitors where the couple carved window messages with her diamond ring.

The injured Blackpoll warbler had a tough fall migration and didn’t make it through the night. I did learn from Kim that one should put an injured bird in a “small, warm, dark box for night. If living in the morning, drip a little sugar water into mouth and release.” Something to keep in mind.

The pumpkin has an important quotation from former Supreme Court Justice Hugo Black about a free press. My neighbor puts 24 small pumpkins on her fence posts every year near Halloween and inscribes something on each. This year the words are from Supreme Court justices, the 19th Amendment (giving women the vote), Massachusetts justice Margaret Marshall (making the state the first to allow gay marriage), and the like.

I wind up with another neighbor’s new tree house and a couple fungi photos. There seems to be a huge array of fungi in town this year, some of them very peculiar looking. We also have a lot of mosquitoes. Too much rain?

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September is already more than half over. How did that happen? Before it’s time for photos of Jack o’ Lanterns, here are a few pictures of September in Massachusetts. Most were taken by me, but the lovely praying mantis photo is my husband’s.

The star clematis has gone berserk all over town this September. So pretty. The herb garden is behind my church, as are the church sexton’s lovingly tended bonsai trees. Mist is rising over the community garden in the early morning.  I shot the ear of corn in the garden of the Old Manse. The great-looking fungus was along the conservation trail by the river. I do find fungus extraordinarily intricate and beautiful. If you’re on Instagram, follow @chasonw for some great examples.

The elephant looks real but is a statue at a home in my neighborhood. Not a street I usually walk down, so I was really taken by surprise when I passed it recently. The offbeat ceramics are in the window of the Lacoste/Keane Gallery, and the glass jellyfish are in a shop called Artisans Way.

I wind up this array with an end-of-summer farmers market, where a tiny boy with a tiny guitar was emulating a musician and a little girl was making friends with a goat.

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I’m still getting used to having an iPhone and was surprised to learn that my new one was counting my steps. When my husband told me that in Japan, walking 10,000 steps a day is considered ideal for good health, I wondered if I could manage that. At home, it means taking two constitutionals a day, a feat I doubted I would be able to keep up in the winter.

But in New York City, no problem! One day this week I walked more than 16,500 steps without thinking twice. New York is just such a fun place to walk — so much to look at, constantly entertaining. Maybe the storefronts don’t change numerous times a day, but the array of people does. And their pushcarts, fruit stands, clothes, behaviors.

People seem so uninhibited in New York that you could express your inner self to an unheard-of degree and no one would blink. Of course it’s sad that some people on the streets clearly have mental illness. But being used to living around them seems to free up New Yorkers not to care much what people think of their own behavior. I watched one guy oblivious of furiously honking rush-hour traffic and blocking a whole lane while he tried to hook a car to his shish-kebob trailer after work.

Another slammed into wet leaves on a rented Citi Bike and wiped out with a loud crash in the middle of an intersection, picked the bike up, and went on his way. If that happened where I live, it would be on the front page of the local bugle the next Thursday.

Most of what I saw happened too fast for me to get a picture, but I include a couple things that stayed still.

It’s relatively quiet to walk along Riverside Drive in the early morning, and many people and dogs do. Other people sit on the benches and read the paper or drink coffee. This worn park bench had a plaque I particularly liked. It says, “The friends of Susan G. Schwartz honor her and remember how she taught us to sit still.”

Going home today to sit still.

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A town with public benches is a civilized kind of town. Benches and sidewalks. Sidewalks and benches. Benches where a dad can help a kid with a messy ice cream cone, where an older citizen can take a break from his daily constitutional, where a shopper can organize her armload of purchases.

I’m grateful to the town government, the independent library, the performing arts center, and — especially — the many businesses that pay to place and maintain benches in Concord. It’s the little things that make for quality of life.

Want to send me a photo of a public bench in your town? How about you, Arlington? Stockholm?

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The calendar says we have more days of summer to come, but for school children, it’s over. Also for me.

For a variety of reasons, it wasn’t my happiest summer, but one has to be grateful for the beauties all around. It certainly is my favorite season for taking pictures. In winter, after I’ve shot all the snow-covered fences and bent-over trees, the photographic opportunities are mostly versions of gray. I’m no Sally Mann, in love with black and white, although I want to get better at finding curious shadows in winter.

The photo collection below starts with the working harbor where one boards the boat to New Shoreham and continues into sights that caught my eye in late August: horse chestnuts, Dusty Miller holding down the fragile dunes, a house sign with a sailboat, a gallery sign with a scarecrow, and the famous Painted Rock. I was so happy to see that 2018 at last had a good piece of art on the rock, not to mention that it stayed up a whole day without getting sloppily spray-painted over. The local paper promised to print my picture of the octopus side and seek out the artist.

Finally, I give you a curious sunset rainbow on an oppressively hot and humid evening. The weather had really gotten me down when this rainbow showed up, so beautiful I felt like saying, Sorry, Sorry, because one needs to remind oneself when feeling down that one won’t always feel that way.

This rainbow was amazing in a couple ways. First of all, there wasn’t even any rain: The air was just loaded with moisture. Second, the sunset on the clouds seemed to spread out the rainbow into several times its true size.

You have to be grateful for these things when you see them.

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Summer has its own pace — sometimes slow and sleepy, sometimes fast and exhausting. The grandchildren like to go-go-go. The older folks wouldn’t mind taking a nap every day.

This photo collection starts out with my energetic older grandson, who learned to surf this summer. Suzanne tried it, too, because John bought her a surfing lesson for her birthday. She says her nephew was really a natural.

Today’s pictures are all from Providence and New Shoreham.

Suzanne’s neighbor has the goofy fairy houses, and the elegant used bookstore Paper Nautilus is also near her home.

The Painted Rock is a beloved island feature — too beloved these days. People paint over one another’s messages within hours, and even a decent picture gets no respect. There were few decent pictures this year, mostly spray painted graffiti.

On our morning walk, Sandra and I snuck up on the bird that was visiting the Manissean cemetery, thinking we’d get a great shot of a heron. You have probably already realized it was only a cormorant. But what a cormorant was doing in the cemetery is anybody’s guess.

I wrap up with a pre-dawn view. “The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas.” (Wish I’d written that myself.)

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Back in March, when I was complaining about a series of heavy spring snows in New England, Deb said, “Save a picture for August, when we really need it.” I think the time has come.

Folks in the Northeast are not used to having temperatures day after day in the 90s combined with crazy-high humidity. Friends my age seem to find it totally enervating. If we can’t get to a bit of shade or find a breeze, we just sit like lumps — or move ve-ery slowly. Not all houses have air conditioning. In the past, it was seldom needed.

So it’s time to stop complaining about the heat and remember how I complained about the cold in March. Deb was right. One’s perspective changes. The picture above was taken on March 13 when I really would have preferred to see spring flowers coming up. Looks quite pleasant to me now.

I also have a few summer pictures to share. The tiny bird on what appears to be a telephone pole is actually a very large, fierce bird called an osprey. Towns along the New England coast construct special nesting platforms to keep osprey from building on telephone poles. You may see many such platforms if you take Amtrak through Connecticut. At this time of year, there may be several young ones — no longer babies — perfecting their new fishing skills.

And I include a bouquet of local wildflowers, the boats in New Shoreham’s Great Salt Pond, and four photos demonstrating how the lotus at a neighbor’s house looks as it opens. I have recorded this other years, but every year, it’s a miracle.

I can’t help noting that even the lotus seemed to take the sweltering summer rather hard. Several blossoms simply bowed over, hiding their faces somewhere among their roots in the pond. I know how they feel.

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Thinking of a line from Edna St. Vincent Millay: “O world, I cannot hold thee close enough!”

We’ve had some beautiful days lately, some wild, stormy ones, and some that were so hot and humid, I just sat around like a bump on a log. In fact, I was so hot I was ready to post one of the March snowstorm photos to cool us all off, but I’d promised Deb to pick a day in August.

I took most of the pictures myself, but I’m going to start off with two that Suzanne took in Bohuslän on Sweden’s west coast. The place looks to me like the skin of the earth, like the hide of an elephant. Note the children climbing in the giant hole left by a rock in the last Ice Age.

The bunny photo was taken in Massachusetts. He’s pretending that he doesn’t see me. Simple Pleasures is a charming little shop in Providence.

Next are three photos from the farmers market. This market has a couple wonderful farmstands and a lot of stands selling crafts or baked goods. The little boy was watching two folk musicians who perform using a washtub. They come every summer and play for tips. The boy looked to me like he wanted to be invited to join in.

The other photos are from morning walks and include lotus buds and wildflowers like Bouncing Bet and Ragged Sailor.

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John took the photo of my eldest grandson and the fish as well as the picture of my eldest granddaughter investigating the seaweed. The large-mouthed bass popped right out on the first cast early one morning, but the lucky fish got thrown back. My husband and I were also lucky, having that family visiting us last week and Suzanne’s family the week before. Suzanne’s children, like their cousins, were absolute fish in the ocean, but are pictured on land, climbing a tree.

The painting on the rock was not created for me, but I had to take a picture anyway.

Now look carefully at the photo of the fence and some weeds. What do you see far away?

The boats are docked in an active Rhode Island fishing port, Point Judith. The nautical weathervane is in Providence, as is the field of sunflowers planted to rehabilitate soil that was ruined when Interstate 195 ran above it. See my post from 2016, here. Where the highway used to be, a research center and a pedestrian bridge to span the river are coming along well and are likely to be finished in 2019.

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Heading Home

Heading home today. Will go back after my sister gets her treatment plan.

Here you see me leaving the varied wonders of New York behind and traveling by train and boat. The only picture that needs explanation, I think, is the Penn Station sink fixture, the like of which I had never seen. The left end of the metal bar dispenses soap, the middle provides water, and the right end is a blow drier!

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