Thursday, October 31, 2013

#574: Squam Swamp Forest

Nantucket doesn't get the big tour buses
of leaf peepers in the fall.
Probably because our prettiest leaves 
aren't visible from the road.
You have to go for a walk in the woods.

Our 500 acre wood in Squam.

Look up! 
Tupelos or, as my friend Alison calls them,
Black Gum trees. 

I like tupelo better.
They clap their hands for joy.

There's bright gold striping underfoot.

Further in

Swamp maples


and near,

and underwater.
Cinnamon fern,
 reflected in a tannin-laden stream.

The American Beeches are still green.
An excuse to come back again.

Another snake rustles in the leaves.

Lichens have their own beauty.

As does poison ivy,
climbing the side of a tupelo.

Wandering back across the bridge.

White oak turns gold, then brown,

The maples speckle red.
Each tree praises its Creator
in its own way.
We leaf peepers enjoy them all.

Sunday, October 27, 2013

#573: Moonlit squidding

Most of the boats are gone,
but the squid are here,
so down to the docks we go.
By the light of the moon,
and the lights on the dock.

The last Steamship on her way in.
Night-time horizon golden with lights.

Lifeflight helicopter, on her way to Boston.
Whenever we see this helicopter,
we pray for whoever might be in it.

You have to fish under the lights for squid,
that's where they congregate, along with the krill.
Not as many as the other night,
probably due to the seal we saw in the shallows.
Boat owners have been known to knock out the lights
so people won't get squid ink on their boats.
It doesn't come off.

A sweet guy dumped his bucket so I could get a picture.
He caught all these and we didn't get any!
Maybe it wasn't the seal...

Last ink fight.

Sorry about that, 
our high school woodshop students replaced the boards
and we got them inky.

Sailboats sleep in the silver light.

Wednesday, October 23, 2013

#572: Sermon Haiku #43: 1 Peter 2:4-12

Who are Christ's followers?
Better than everyone else?
Just ordinary?

Not better, chosen.
Called apart, God's possession
Made worthy by grace

Called for a purpose
Living the realness of God
in an unreal world

Solid on the Rock
Jesus' stone, vibrant with life
shouting out His praise

Light in the darkness
Blessed, privileged, honored
Not because we're good

But because He is.
Master Mason, laying stone,
Building His temple.

Sunday, October 20, 2013

572: First Egg!

Our bantams have begun to lay!

This was the first, beautiful creamy-white egg.
Laid by one of the Dominica bantams.
The thrill of a chicken's first egg is a lot 
like the thrill of a kid getting their balance on a bike.
It's a yahoo! moment.

Here's two for breakfast,
along with one of Flashdrive's eggs and
some black and white Irish sausage.

Short-tail hasn't started laying yet but it'll be soon,
she's certainly eating plenty of kale.

At dusk the bantams all hide in the morning glory tangle.

Hoping not to be spotted and put in the henhouse.
We can't let them roost outside because of the
red-tail hawks.
And because it's a pain in the neck looking 
for hidden eggs.

They are lovely against the lowering sun, tho'.

Wednesday, October 16, 2013

571: Summer's End, again

I know, it's October, right?
But it's still in the 60s during the day!

Bumblebees still visit the sunflowers
and dahlias.

Garden spiders are still building webs,
covered in dew.

Fishermen are still casting from the beach,
who needs a car?
Just attach your tubes to your bike.

Snapping turtles still wander the bike path,
but no one's dangling chicken legs for them
 at Second Bridge anymore.

We're all done picking summer fruit,
beach plums in this picture.
The jam reminds us of hot summer days.

Zinnias will bloom till the frost.

Which is a good thing for our last monarch, a male.
Wishing him a smooth flight south.
We'll see his great grandchild next summer.

Monday, October 7, 2013

#570: Away, away!

Travelling off-island is always
a big deal, 
even if you're only going to the Cape
for a seminar.
I had to get there early so I flew.
David took me to Island Airlines.
As you can see, the place is deserted.
He had time to chat with the counterfolk.

The flag flies regardless.

But there's really no one here.

No wait, John Kerry's here,
there's his plane.

Then, negotiating: Who gets to sit in the co-pilot seat?

The playing fields at Nobadeer.
They look a lot bigger on the ground.

The harbor toward town.
Notice the jetties, underwater.

The west end of Nantucket,
and Tuckernuck.
All these years I've lived on Nantucket and
never set foot on Tuckernuck.

Nor kayaked across the harbor to Coatue.
That's on my to-do list.

There's the Steamship,
ever faithful, ever too slow for 
an early meeting.
I'll be sure to take her home, tho',
she's a lot cheaper than flying.
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