

- Gray Matter of the Modern Brain overloaded on technology
Wistful for Wisteria
Peeper frogs choir symphony at night
Birds singing in the crisp morning air
Loons cruising on the pond in synchronized natural movements
A collidascope of motion as cutting winds make designs on the surface
Pen’s potential energy released if only for a line a day
Spring comes slower in my new northern home
Surrounded by forest, hills and mountains
Ice out on the shallow pond April 24th the last pushed under by a day of gusts
In mind’s eye a clear view of the prospects as buds grow and change in color
I find myself Wistful for Wisteria which grew in beauty each year at my old abode
Pictures now memories
A scent I will never forget
As a polar vortex winter fades
and nature comes alive
Here April comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb
and May showers bring late May and June flowers
All the more wonder after a first spent northern winter
Hope and Faith have brought me here
where I belong
[click on any image for a sharper view]
href=”https://kcaptain77.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/dscn0915.jpg”> Sunrise on the first full day of summer
It was just one of those days when I felt that I had caught up to where I should be. Up just after the birds at 4:50, on the road to Hampton Beach at 5AM. The lake was draped in mist as warm water touched the overnight cooler air. Awaken to another day in early summer paradise. So much is missed as we rest during the early lit hours. Turkeys were crossing the road, other birds were chirping to the new day and some deer were seen in hay fields. Everything felt new and fresh. On arrival at the shore I easily found a spot to park close to my photo focus of the day. The beach had been groomed and the symmetric lines had hardly a footprint. A small group had gathered to watch the sun rise on the first full day of summer. It was also the start of the third day of working on the Sand Sculptures with the moments of judgment coming in the afternoon. One man was focused on finding treasure in the sand with a metal detector and seemed oblivious to all else around him.
Attending early on the third of three days of work by the artists allowed pictures of art in the creation stage. The tools and some of the box frames and the hard plastic sheets used for designing round rough material to work were left where they had been used the days before. Buckets trowels brushes, shovels and other tools are used to shape the packed sand. Each contestant gets 10 tons of sand to work with over three days. They must work alone. The sand is kept moist with sprays of water and a solution of 1 gallon of Elmers Glue to 5 gallons of water is used to seal the sculpture from wind and other damage.
It is interesting to guess how the finished work will look. Later I will publish a before and after with some surprises. I was fascinated by the creation in sand of a Giant coming out of the sand and holding a replica which holds a replica which holds a replica smaller with each reproduction.
The Sand Giant and close ups of the replicas
The Exothermic Energy of Seasons
Sunshine start to another day
Evening last lit with burning branches, glowing embers, music and moonlight
A fire of our own
Embrace the light of soul spirit rising
Glow meets rays expanding
Convergence of energy in the present, the gift
Synergy promises potential for another day
Warmth of nature and love intertwined
Wisteria vines enhanced in a mix of Spring and Summers
Soul spirit rising
Stones
Cycle ride with clouds moving broken and dark, rain threatening
On reserve vapors ran out of gas by a town graveyard
Found a pencil and sharpened it on old stone
Walked on grass border of stone markers
Times of birth and of death
Family plots seem to tell tales of past lives
Felt the passing in cracks of gravestone and thunder
Amazed at how the years touch and wear the hard surfaces
A 1945 death, a sentinel of stone 63 years at attention
Standing guard appeared ancient
Even rock wears the touch of nature in time
Sat on stones of granite, placed with care and cemented into a wall
Which handsome and honorable fronts the Deerfield cemetery
Thunderclap and light rain as maple tree standing in spring attire
Slows drops and gives semblance of shelter
Past weeks gusty gestations blew strong and bits and pieces of flower
In haphazard arrangement dotted the lawn
Detached and free but now without set purpose
Lost from their places by lone stones
Gathered some and gave them order in bouquet
Found old grave site stone holding a child of three and placed them there carefully
Light sprinkles in a dry month are not enough to help thirsty grass
Found a bandage but not the size to patch the wound
A packet of plant food but not enough to make love grow
But the fortunate find of a marking tool, a gift from the gods
For one man under a maple by the graves on an old stone wall
Found he didn’t need gas, for there was lead in his pencil
© Captain Ken Pothier