I just fell in love

With this picture. This is to remind me to work with it when I get back!

Boathouses on Crooked River

Last September 13 (a lucky day, really, it was the day before my 74th birthday) I mentioned the boathouses on the Crooked River. I had been meaning to make a photo stop there, and thus reminded myself. So here's the result--no clouds though--and pretty harsh light. Picturesque, no? And somewhat falling into ruin. But the reflections are always good, in almost any light.
I have been trying all day to pack very carefully, almost ethereally, and only what I need, for a quick trip to our Yuki Teikei Haiku Retreat at Asilomar. The problem is, I'm taking only two cameras and three lenses for one of them. Then I need the battery chargers, the cellphone charger, my Kindle and its charger, a couple of sketchbooks, some pens and a watercolor set, maybe some markers or crayons, which I often don't use, but cannot stand to be without. I'm also taking some little prizes and gifts, and some duplicated handouts for the session I am leading. Then I have a New Yorker, and a Threepenny Review that just came, to read on the plane. And a little pillow to put between my knees when I sleep because of my back. I think I will also take Brenda Hillman's new book of poems, which just came. I am in love with Amazon and it is a costly love, let me tell you, but since I left the library, I really need to surround myself with books.
Yesterday, I went to Challenge Mountain and got another of the dolls that someone makes to support this charity. This one has blonde curls, a green dress with a ruffle, and natch, a pinafore. Too cute. Maybe I'll take her portrait when I come back. Trips always make me nervous; I keep waking up trying to remember if I packed whatever, or whatever . . . Do YOU take travel in your stride???

Evening approaches

What is more beautiful than a broad expanse of water? And fading light toward the end of the day? So many things to cram in one more time before winter sets in. And all the moored boats we saw on this ride are taken out of the water and sheltered for next year. And the life jackets hung in the boathouse. Good night. . .

Along Indian River

Along Indian River on a late summer boat ride. Wonderful evening light and my grandson here for a short visit. There was that autumn chill in the air.

Sun coming up this morning

Coming up through the mist. I saw it before the fireball was visible, but by the time I grabbed the camera and got outside, it was like this, and I could only take the picture by moving so some of the sun was obscured by trees. I feel like I haven't been here long enough and it is only a few short weeks until we leave.
We did get the crabapple tree--a named variety Spring Snow--delivered today! John, from the Wilson Farms, put it into the hole that Trey dug. We are trying to think of some nice way to show out appreciation. All around town now, different kinds of crab apples hang on trees cultivated and semi-wild. There are two trees on Banwell Road with crimson globes that last on the tree for a long time. I wonder if you can plant crabapples from seeds. These trees have been there a long time and seem very suited to this area. I think I will try.
In about eight hours the sun will come up--it's rising much later now--we are far enough north that the difference is striking.

Tangerines in a line

I've been away from this other garden too long. This was in February, a bit before garden clean-up time. The tangerines were still quite good and the grandgirls had a fine time harvesting them. As I get further and further away from mommy-time, I forget to think about how much fun kids find in everyday life, and how creative their pursuits can be.
It is fun for me now to visit old groups of photos and see what I can find. In film-time, I wouldn't have been able so handily to shift through large amounts of stuff. I should delete a lot more than I do. I should use more of the capabilites of my camera. I have a new Lumix and I cannot find the way to set the aperture through the menu. I know you can, the instructions didn't help me, and I need to work on it more.
I have a tendency to accumulate little tasks that I set myself. They pile up and then I do a whole bunch of them at a time after the shame has become almost unbearable. If I have agreed to write something, I should write it! I made an agreement with myself about this blog and am keeping it but poorly. A couple of other big things are pending: my mother's book and my poetry manuscript for just two. I think I'll go to bed.
Or, not. I have a fondness for what the organization books call "C" tasks--s opposed to "A" tasks, or the important goal-focused ones--like putting tangerines in a beautiful line that shows off their color and subtle variation of shape. If I have ever been interested in something, I keep on being interested in it, even if it is clear that I probably won't do much needlepoint, birdwatching, dolls and dollhouse-making, quilting, aperture or shutter-speed setting. So if there is another book on wolves, or trees, or by Frank Bidart, or Louise Gluck, or Adam Zagajewsji, or Bernd Heinrich, well. I need that, too. And let's not even talk about laying in a supply of blank books, for sketching, or haiku. . . or maybe just tugging at the memory thread with a pen or pencil in hand.

Sunflowers of summer

In my daughter's garden, these will stand all winter and many birds will come for snacks. But they will never be more beautiful than they were at the end of August. The roof of the her goat barn is just visible. Her excellent goat is still giving lots of milk. My husband loves this milk. Before we came, our daughter was making soft cheese and yoghurt from the milk. Now, nearly every day, she brings him some in a quart jar. He uses it on his cereal with blueberries every day.
The leaves are turning, soon it will be time to take those leaf-peeping photos. I'm hoping for good weather.