Treading Water—In the Air

The day I shot this photo, the wind was so strong that these seagulls were hanging stationary in the air. Every few seconds they adjusted their wings, headed into the air, and just floated on the air currents above my head. I wanted to soar with them!

Mirror, Mirror, On the Wall, er, Pond.

Yesterday late afternoon, the setting sun really colored these trees around the pond in the center of town. They're beginning to change to their autumn shades anyway, but the strong golden sun brightened them dramatically. There was not even the slightest breeze to ripple the water, either. Lily pads, their flowers long gone, adorn the edges of the pond in the photo, above.

Small trees and shrubs in the shaded foreground, not illuminated by the sun, retain their actual coloring.

Many trees are already almost bare, courtesy Tropical Storm Irene. I don't think it's going to be a great year for fall foliage around here.

85° in October! A Walk Around Town

Beautiful double peach-colored Hibiscus flowering beside a grouping of pretty pale yellow wicker chairs. This setting is in front of a small boutique in the town center. The colors really compliment each other. A touch of purple Ageratum at the bottom anchors the garden nicely.

OCTOBER 11, 2011—As I've mentioned before on the blog, I've been walking a lot lately, 2-3 hours every day. I bring my trusty Kodak digital camera with me, and usually shoot 50-100 photos every day. These selections are from around town in the past few days. Even though it's mid-October, temperatures have been in the 70s and 90s recently, with nighttime temps in the upper 40s. The growing season is still going strong. I hope it continues for another month!

There is a small, beautiful flower garden in front of a local restaurant, including many Hibiscus plants, Ageratum, New Guinea Impatiens, Tea roses, ornamental grasses and several other annuals. The garden is in a cutout of the sidewalk, right in the town center.

Ornamental grasses and a burning bush, (Euonymus) look great together on the waterfront property.

Closeup view of the Euonymus, above. The leaves turn bright red, early in Fall, and the shrub has distinctive edgy, almost triangular shaped stems, not smooth like most shrubs.

June's Blue Cheese pumpkin looks great next to my similar colored ceramic planter of lavender Asters and the ancient stone steps that are featured at Pink Gardens. She bought me a similar pumpkin, too. My favorite variety!

I'm pretty sure I photographed this New York Aster last year, too. It's a spectacular perennial, measuring almost four-feet wide and four-feet high, of almost solid purple at this time of year. I really want one next year!

A tiny clump of mushrooms growing at the base of a huge old tree. It reminded me of those European villages that are tightly clustered at the base of the Alps.

Another Hibiscus in front of the restaurant mentioned above. It looks great next to that magenta Coleus.

A Montauk Daisy growing in front of a gourmet deli. The white picket fence behind it is a nice touch.

A nice porch arrangement at a beach house. The small Boxwoods on the right, browned from the saltwater flooding of Irene, will probably be fine next year. Many homes along the shore now have these colorful arrangements of annuals covering up their post-Irene plantings. Ornamental peppers, pumpkins, gourds, and a splendid bicolor Chrysanthemum work well with the iron planter, brick retaining wall and cedar shingles.

Gerbera daisies in a bright red, coexists with silver-green Artemesia and a variegated annual of unknown name.

Raising the Roof (and the rest of the house)

No, they didn't find any striped socks and ruby slippers under this house, and it's being raised, not falling to the ground. Welcome to the post "Tropical Storm" Irene scene along this picturesque stretch of beach houses in my town. This is one of the houses that was most damaged during the late August storm. Apparently the homeowners have decided to raise their entire house almost a full level, adding what will be a 10-foot fortified cement foundation. The seawall in front of these homes is being rebuilt as well. This photo was taken yesterday, a day that saw temperatures reach the mid-80s with nary a cloud in sight. Not bad for early October in Connecticut.

August 28th, 2011—Early afternoon of the morning Irene struck our coastline. For my post on the storm, and for more photos, click here. The house pictured at the top of the post, is being struck by the huge breaking waves in this photo.

The same scene photographed last week. The water is calm as can be, seagulls appearing as white dots floating on the Sound. Though very dramatic, these clouds produced little rain. During my 2-hour walk that day, I only saw about 5 minutes of intermittent raindrops. A little bit of bright blue sky can be seen peeking out from the clouds right behind these beach homes.

A close-up view of Irene's damage. Repairs to the seawall can be seen in this view, too. I'm pretty sure the cement will be faced with granite before they're done. Everything is being rebuilt to as-new, or better condition, as befits this "Republican" section of town, lol.

Six Weeks Later, Calm and Peace 

Blue skies, our American flag, and soaring kites, as families enjoy their private beaches on an unusually warm Sunday afternoon. Not really visible in this photo, in person, Long Island, New York, could be faintly seen on the horizon. I believe it's only about 16 miles across the Sound from Connecticut.

Low tide reveals the amount of sand that was swept away back into the Sound due to Irene. It didn't stop these homeowners from strolling along their beach, and I bet the sand is fully restored by next summer. All sorts of work is going on along the shore right now, from the construction seen at the top of this post, to new sod being rolled out at many of the homes, to new stone walls being built and old seawalls being repaired. Sand will be trucked in and will restore these beaches, too.

Your trusty photographer's, and blogger's, long shadow cast by the late afternoon sun behind me. The "Jersey Barrier," or temporary cement wall, to my right, is protecting the crumbling road and seawall. There is a sidewalk along this stretch of road that is largely missing now, as are parts of this narrow two-lane road. The frequent bicycle riders, joggers and walkers along this stretch, need to be extra careful now as there are no shoulders or "safe" areas, but drivers are well-aware of this from what I've seen and experienced. And it's off the "beaten path" anyway, not a main road of any sort.

A rustic bench and pot of autumn flowers at the beginning of this particular home's beach walk. In this stretch of town, the homes are separated from their beaches by a road. Each home has a walkway to the beach across the street from their residence. Some have long wooden boardwalks over the pampas grass and beach roses in the marsh, and others, like this one, have only a short stretch of sand to traverse to reach the water.

A beautiful beach rose, Rosa rugosa, blooms along the roadside. Their single petals contrast with a cultivated rose's multiple rows of petals, but they're just as attractive. The shrubs grow to about 3-4 feet tall, and have deep roots, helping to protect the sandy soil. All of these plants emerged relatively unscathed by the storm, although many lost their leaves, but they're already showing fresh green growth.

A late afternoon moon rises above the Madison Beach Club, now shuttered for the season. Such a stark contrast to Irene's story seas and skies. 

Small pieces of driftwood resting on the sand at West Wharf. The strong shadows are courtesy of a 6 pm sun, low in the sky as it is at this time of year.

Footprints, remnants of a memorable Autumn Sunday afternoon at the beach, softened by drifting sand, create an almost lunar landscape, exacerbated by the strong shadows.

Drifting Wood, Stationary Rocks

Large trees are still washing up on the shoreline, post-Tropical Storm Irene. Driftwood has long been one of the muses of shoreline artists. While floating debris such as these trees is very dangerous while in the water, once they wash up, they're quite beautiful. Click on images to enlarge.

Kitchen Bouquet

My zinnias and dahlias are still flowering pretty well. Temperatures in the low forties last night, and perhaps high thirties tonight, should be no problem, and this weekend we should see low eighties by Sunday afternoon. I hope we have at least another month before a frost!

Steve Jobs, 1955-2011

(image courtesy Apple homepage)

Steve Jobs, founder and creative genius of Apple, has died. My condolences go out to his family and friends. I've been using a Macintosh since 1985, and have owned several during these intervening 26 years. I can't imagine my life without one, as all of my art is originally conceived on a Mac in one way or another, and this blog is brought to you via my Mac. We live in a better place because of Jobs' vision and products. Sad day, but let's celebrate a life well and truly lived for the betterment of the entire world. RIP.

Longtime reader, Woody Thompson, posted this quote of Jobs' in the comments. It's perfect for right now, so I'm updating this post to include it. We can all learn something from it. Thank you, Woody!

"Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. Don't be trapped by dogma—which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of others' opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary."

—Steve Jobs

For The New York Times' article on Jobs' life, click here.

Trés Dramatiques!

The other late afternoon I was in my bedroom reading—a very small room with two large windows. I noticed the light streaming in through those windows kept changing intensity and the shadows cast by my various belongings kept changing as well. I propped myself up and looked outside and was greeted by these "Cecil B. DeMille" clouds as the sun was setting. I was mesmerized and shot about 25 photos before the sun finally set. Enjoy!

On the Other Hand, Summer Lingers . . .

A beautiful peachy-yellow rose in front of a local gourmet deli and pizzaria. They're growing in front of a picket fence and every photo of them looks like a magazine cover!

Although Autumn has arrived, I still have a few tomatoes ripening on their plants. Above, Brandywines, slowly turning their trademark pinkish red color.

My dahlias are still blooming as well. Dahlias like cooler weather, so same as every year, I hope the cool nights don't turn into frosty ones for several more weeks!

My pot of purple petunias has really exploded into full Technicolor with the shorter days and cooler nights. Isn't this variety, stunning?

The bright blue planter was a great birthday gift this year from one of my best-pals, Mary.

Autumn Arrives in Casey Town

Although there were early rumors that pumpkins would be quite rare this fall, due to Irene's flooding and wind damage to local farms, these bright orange gourd-like members of the squash family have arrived at every plant nursery and grocery store.

Seen growing on the side of the road, right next to the Amtrak railroad tracks, and actually on Amtrak property, these yellow fall Mulleins are quite spectacular. Look at how green and healthy these plants stay, while all around them the other plants and grass are browning and shriveling up. This is not exactly the variety of wild mulleins I'm used to seeing growing near the track. Mary, my go-to gal for all thing horticultural, believes these are a cultivated version that have been deposited here by birds or sown by the wind. Most varieties of mullein are biennials, which means they send up leaves the first year and the flowers don't develop until the second year. Both first-year plant rosettes and second-year flower stalks may be seen in this photo, ensuring flowers for next year too. Perhaps in my yard, lol. If some of the first year rosettes jumped into my backpack, I wouldn't toss 'em out.

Detail shot of the roadside mullein in the photo above this one. Amtrak's northeast corridor tracks, going to Boston and points north is right at the top of this bank of stones and dirt.

A relatively rare Autumn Crocus. Although they look like the ones that come up in Spring, they are a different variety of plant altogether. They are also known as Naked Ladies, as the flowers appear well after the leaves disappear. The leaves around these flowers are actually leftover Day Lily leaves and a few weeds. I came upon these on a walk around town.

Jewel Weed, a natural antidote for poison ivy and other skin rashes, is flowering quite profusely now. The unassuming little orange flowers with red spots, are quite lovely when you really look at them, almost orchid-like.

A cultivated yellow honeysuckle climbing on a trellis near the road.

Along with pumpkins, Chrysanthemums are the ubiquitous sign that Autumn has arrived. While I love naturalized 'mums that are perennial and come up every year, I call the variety for sale in the fall "Hairdo Mums" as their forced blooms remind me of the helmet hairstyles of the 1960s.

This is a cool colored 'mum variety, though, white and pink. The white centers darken to a peach color as they age.

All the work I did pinching back my goldenrod during the summer has paid off now with voluminous stems of bright yellow flowers. If you leave the plants alone during the growing season, each plant will only have a few very tall stems that will fall over once the heavy flowers bloom. But if you pinch each stalk every couple of weeks, the plants will stay relatively short and branch out creating a shrub-like appearance. This mound is just one plant! I love the combination of the yellow goldenrod and the purple Perilla behind it. This is my "tree trunk" garden in front of Pink Gardens.

After the yellow flowers of the goldenrod plant are done, they will turn into these silvery-beige and very fluffy seed pods. I found these on a hill leading to the train tracks. The ones in my yard won't reach this stage for another month or more.

I don't know the name of these "weeds" but I look forward to them each fall. They grow low along the ground, perhaps 12 inches high at the most, and erupt in these very teeny-tiny pink flower clusters once a few chilly nights have arrived.