Category Archives: postaweek2013

#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.

#561: Boy Scout Camp Focus

We live up the street from a 100 acre
Boy Scout camp.
I’ll not show you the lodge and tents and firepits,
but rather the untouched-by-man acres:
Sun glow through the wild grasses

Pathways to nowhere,
one of these led to Undergound Tom’s place,
it’s all caved in now.

Looking back toward the meadow,
the obstacle course is off to the right.

Biking along the paths to my favorite spot:
Blueberry Haven,
there are millions of these,
you just have to be willing to stoop.
Which, for the sake of blueberry muffins all winter,
I am.
In the big picture it’s land in a high-end resort,
with the potential to make someone a ton of money,
Focused in, it’s a haven, a wilderness for the scouts,
a place to pick blueberries.
I’d so appreciate your signature on a petition
to keep it that way.
The blueberries can’t speak for themselves.

#555: Boston Pops

Last night was the Boston Pops concert
on Jetties beach.
Anyway you look at it
or horizontal,

it was crowded.
 6,000 general admission tickets
were available. Looks like they sold them all.
Many people came early to set up their picnics.
We came two minutes before it started as David was working.
Our picnic involved BLTs, cucumber spears
 and lemon blueberry cupcakes.
And proper attire:
fedora and sweater tied around the shoulders for him,
hot pink pedal pushers with a lime green top for me.
We brought our 15 year old and her friend,
they did not hang out with us.

The Pops were fantastic as always.
We set up our blanket as close to a loudspeaker as we could.
As you can see, there was dancing.
Matthew Morrison was the featured singer.
Our 15 year old and her friend got as close to the stage
as they could (not very) to see him.
They are huge fans of ‘Glee’.
Dancing to ‘Dancing Queen‘ by ABBA
How could you not?
As the sun sets, the crowd anticipates the ‘1812 Overture
which tells the story of Napoleon’s invasion of Russia.
The music is that much more stirring when you know
 the musical structure ahead of time.
Fireworks replace cannons in the Pops version.

The last song was ‘Stars and Stripes Forever’
with lots of fireworks afterward.
I caught this Jedi lightsaber fight instead.

#553: Foreshadow

On the way back from a delivery in Tom Nevers,
I had to pull over and run out into Nantucket’s Serengeti.

The sun was setting

Behind my favorite black oak

What’s that weird shadow?

Oh, a cloud bank near the horizon.

The shadow grows,

And grows.
Seen through black oak branches,
Sunset’s glory blocked by
the tiniest of water droplets.
How often do stray thoughts
and consequent actions 
hide God’s glory in my own life?
Yet, He still makes it beautiful.

#551: Masterpiece, Ireland Galleries

This is Lorene Ireland:
with one of her creations at the Folk Art and Artisan’s Show.
A similar design won an award at the
World of Wearable Art in New Zealand.
I cannot even imagine the time and focus it must take 
to create such a masterpiece.

Her pieces are covered with thousands of seashells,
artfully arranged.
Her grandmother’s shell collection
 got her started.
Many times that spark of creativity is
ignited by love of someone.
For me, with the necktie chairs, it was my dad.
For Lorene, it was her grandma.
She has a shop down on Old South Wharf.
There are a whole bunch of tiny shops on the wharf
which I love to visit.
Usually, the shopkeeper/artist is there,
continuing to follow their passion.

Even when it involves loading and unloading
for a show.

#546: Colorado Potato Beetles, part two

Ahh, for the good old days on Nantucket.
Not the windswept moors and Sankaty Lighthouse,

nor the patriotic monument on Main Street,

nor even the Sconset walk,
no these are the same as always.
No need for nostalgia here.
What I miss are the days before Colorado potato beetles.
This is one of two egg masses I discovered this morning.
Before last year we had never seen this, ever.

And we’e been growing potatoes for over a decade.

Not only do they attack our potatoes,
they’re on the tomato plants

See? Jabba the Hutt wannabees.

And what’s that on the eggplant?
More. The battlefield expands.
How I long for the good old days of plant potatoes,
hill up potatoes, harvest potatoes.
Eat potatoes.
And no sharing with Jabba wannabees.

#543: Ironman Race: Passing of the chip

Last weekend was the Ironman,
a fundraiser for Mentoring Youth Nantucket.
My son was on my husband’s team:

incoming runner
Passing of the chip
bike heading out

A companionship of sport,
one generation to the next.

#542: Vision of a secret beach

Nantucket has her secret places,
obviously these bike riders know this one.

Down an overgrown path, an egret inlet.

with nearly invisible crabs,

 ethereal down feathers caught in the beachgrass,

Conch shells, long empty,

and birds wandering in circles,
nothing to fear here.

#540: Nantucket Fog

Last night’s sky looked like this:
A waxing gibbous moon
 peaking through cotton candy clouds.

This morning, thrown a curve ball, we were fogged in.

No children at the Jetties playground.

Rosa Rugosa in bloom, smells so sweet.
I can’t give you scent on my blog
but I did try for sound:
sparrows, waves, foghorn…
sadly, my computer’s mike isn’t strong enough.

Lone bicycle.

A bit of a wind.

Empty playground, 
waiting for the tourists.

Seagulls wait too.

#536: Nantucket Spring

Spring on Nantucket is fleeting.
Some years it’s only days long.
Baby chicks, snuggled in
Grow to kid chicks, tasting the outdoors,

Then to teen chicks, 
catch me if you can…
Peeking starflowers give way to
 Quaker ladies

and climbing poison ivy.
the moors will still be lonely,

the boat basin,  not so much.