On the day before our wedding, Michael and I picked bunches of wildflowers from a local meadow. We decorated our home with Black-eyed-Susans, Daisies, Goldenrod, Queen Ann's Lace, and Coreopsis for family and friends that came to celebrate with us.
The days before and the day of our wedding were deliriously colorful. Michael and I painted our shed with wildflowers and words and my best, dearest college friend Carlene was snapping pictures of our everyday love, swimming and running and wildflower picking. The morning of our wedding ( I could not sleep a wink at the inn), I drove back to our home to wake Michael before sunset and we watched it rise in all its pink orange beauty to welcome our day. We then went for one of our blessed early morning swims in Skaket. A few friends and family, other lovers of swimming, joined us.
Here it is necessary to include that we saved a shark. Coming out of the water, our friend Ethan noticed a black dorsal fin moving across the water. He is not a big fan of open water swimming, so this was particularly unsettling for him. Mind you, this was not a big fin, but it was a fin nonetheless swimming in circles, disoriented. With closer inspection, it was about three feet long, blackish on its back, grayish on its belly, with a pointed nose and large eyes. It was not a common sand shark or dog shark that we could tell but maybe a baby Mako shark. Whatever type of shark it was, it needed to get to larger open waters of the ocean side, so Michael walked alongside it guiding it in the direction of the open sea. It finally seemed to find a course and went on its way. It was an exciting story to add to the day.
After all the excitement, I had less than thirty minutes to get back to the inn, change, and return to the beach where friends and family would meet to witness our love and commitment to one another. I kept the salt in my hair, pulled it back, slipped on my glove-fitting Nicole Miller dress, took the simple handful of Russian Sage that Michael had put in the room, and made it just in time to see him dressed in his handsome linen rolled-up pants and shirt that hung as naturally as our love. People close to us were there and our friend and judge Steve married us among the sea, the sand, and grasses, under a cloudless, cerulean sky. It was perfect for us in every way.
We married on the morning of our first collaborative art and poetry exhibit opening at Cape Cod Art Museum, so the day continued to be a joyous and memorable one. We hosted a reception and got to share the collaboration of not only our love, but our art and poetry too.
We created a wildflower garden that represents those wonderful memories and more. When we first sowed the seeds in March, we thought none had taken because we watched robins and finches snack on them. So we planted more. Still we thought none had taken as what looked like a field of weeds were staring at us. Unsure of what green leaves were what, we picked only the certain weeds we knew. Now we do understand that "weeds are wildflowers looking for a home", and I admit I felt guilty picking any weeds, but the monster ones that looked like something from Little Shop of Horrors, well they had to go.
Almost three months later, we have a delightful, airy array of wildflowers in every color that bring joy each time we come home. Every day we see a new poppy pop. We have pink, yellow, and orange poppies, and larger red ones too. There are Coreopsis, and several varieties of Daisies in yellows and whites like Tidy Tips and the African Daisy. There are Crimson Clover, Bull Thistle, Baby Snapdragons, and Baby Blue Eyes with Sweet Alyssum sprinkled about and so many more I do not know the names of. I adore our wildflowers. They hug us with happiness. We talk to them, sing to them, and encourage their place in the world.
Oscar Wilde writes "With freedom, books, flowers, and the moon, who could not be happy?"
I will add art, love, and the sea to the list.
Dear carrot friends, what's on your list of happy things?
Wishing you all things happy!
~Bess
Saturday, June 30, 2012
Sunday, June 17, 2012
Little Ducks
Michael and I have just survived ten days straight of teenagers, lots of them! First we had our niece Hannah from Houston, TX with two of her friends, all graduating high school seniors, spend five days with us as their graduation present. We had fun taking them to our favorite Boston spots, the MFA, The Union Oyster House, and Mike's Pastry. Of course, we took them to our training ground Walden Pond, where they chose to shop in the gift shop rather than join us for a swim...our New England waters are a bit too cold for them, They went strawberry picking, ate ice cream which apparently is more of a New England thing than a Texas thing...its more about frozen yogurt there, and the remaining three days we spent on the Cape Cod seashore, from Orleans to Provincetown, touring lighthouses, and beaches, teaching them to surf, and of course, more shopping...it was a treat for them to buy t-shirts from all the different areas, especially the Cape Cod black bear shirt ( highlighting the first ever known black bear to be seen on the Cape).
We dropped them off at the airport on Sunday, and on Monday we were carting ten students back to our home in Orleans, to host Art of the Sea Endersession educational/recreational/cultural week for Megan's high school. We taught ten more eager teenagers to follow Emerson: "Live in the sunshine, swim the sea, and drink the wild air". We surfed, we ran, we clammed, we swam, we biked, we saw a fantastic play called The Hound of the Baskervilles complete with backstage tour and meeting of the performers, we talked of art and poetry by local Cape Cod artists and poets such as Charles Hawthorne, Hans Hoffman, Mary Oliver, and Stanley Kunitz, and did sun salutations at sunrise.
In these ten days, we listened and observed this upcoming generation, and were impressed at the intelligence and grace in which they are handling the growing pains and decisions facing teenagers. In light of the uncertain economy, social stressors, and shaping identities, all of the teens we "hung out" with demonstrated thoughtful and optimistic plans for their future. It is refreshing to see the hope and dreams in their eyes.
At one of our sunset reflections with the ten students we observed them from a distance. Michael sketched them and I wrote. Some of my thoughts for a poem:
Ten in a row, like ducks
without their mother, wondering about the world,
sitting, feathers tucked, quiet.
Three waddle to the water, stray
from the row beyond wonder and warmth
to feel the cold spray.
Four find the rocky edge hard
against their soft, white feathers.
Two more lost in the grasses
try to find their way.
And one remains, still
sitting, feathers tucked,
content with the setting sun.
They will find their way, their center, their carrot friends.
xo Bess
We dropped them off at the airport on Sunday, and on Monday we were carting ten students back to our home in Orleans, to host Art of the Sea Endersession educational/recreational/cultural week for Megan's high school. We taught ten more eager teenagers to follow Emerson: "Live in the sunshine, swim the sea, and drink the wild air". We surfed, we ran, we clammed, we swam, we biked, we saw a fantastic play called The Hound of the Baskervilles complete with backstage tour and meeting of the performers, we talked of art and poetry by local Cape Cod artists and poets such as Charles Hawthorne, Hans Hoffman, Mary Oliver, and Stanley Kunitz, and did sun salutations at sunrise.
In these ten days, we listened and observed this upcoming generation, and were impressed at the intelligence and grace in which they are handling the growing pains and decisions facing teenagers. In light of the uncertain economy, social stressors, and shaping identities, all of the teens we "hung out" with demonstrated thoughtful and optimistic plans for their future. It is refreshing to see the hope and dreams in their eyes.
At one of our sunset reflections with the ten students we observed them from a distance. Michael sketched them and I wrote. Some of my thoughts for a poem:
Ten in a row, like ducks
without their mother, wondering about the world,
sitting, feathers tucked, quiet.
Three waddle to the water, stray
from the row beyond wonder and warmth
to feel the cold spray.
Four find the rocky edge hard
against their soft, white feathers.
Two more lost in the grasses
try to find their way.
And one remains, still
sitting, feathers tucked,
content with the setting sun.
They will find their way, their center, their carrot friends.
xo Bess
Thursday, June 7, 2012
Cloud Flats
There are sand flats that we are graced to witness frequently at our beloved Skaket Beach in Orleans. I love to observe the flats, especially while gliding over them with each stroke taken in the celestial salt waters. Skaket Beach has especially pristine flats, easily seen in the creamy water days when the sea lulls the sleepy shores. They spread for miles when tides are low and one day we were able to convince our friend Steve, a talented local potter, to meet us in the early morning hours to make an impression of them with plaster of paris. To our delight, he showed up, and with wheelbarrow, two-by-fours, and plaster in tow, we found picturesque flats to frame and mold. We shaped clay into the impressions and made a unique Skaket Beach sand flat bowl for us to cherish and to hold. Michael and I were married on Skaket Beach in 2010 and it continues to nourish us everyday, if not with salt, in spirit.
Today, while swimming on one of these creamy water days, I noticed the clouds above mirroring the reflection of the flats. I will call them cloud flats. They shared the same rippled movement, the same contours of our spine spooning. Their whites woven with blue, like waves lapping the shore. Michael painted such a scene, once, spontaneously by memory, with the same blues and whites and lapping lines. It stayed here in our studio, forgotten, leaning against the corner wall. Today, I saw this painting in the sky...cloud flats...and now it hangs in our newly renovated bathroom with an aqua wall that was waiting for this painting.
Nature reflects its beauty in the hearts of sky, land, water, and us! Our spine and sinew, which holds our posture strong and flexible, is figure-lined in the dunes, and sand flats, waves and clouds. A reminder of the continuum we exist with. A welcomed knowing of the threads that weave our soul.
Carrot friends, embrace the figure lines of nature, of our soul!
xo Bess
Today, while swimming on one of these creamy water days, I noticed the clouds above mirroring the reflection of the flats. I will call them cloud flats. They shared the same rippled movement, the same contours of our spine spooning. Their whites woven with blue, like waves lapping the shore. Michael painted such a scene, once, spontaneously by memory, with the same blues and whites and lapping lines. It stayed here in our studio, forgotten, leaning against the corner wall. Today, I saw this painting in the sky...cloud flats...and now it hangs in our newly renovated bathroom with an aqua wall that was waiting for this painting.
Nature reflects its beauty in the hearts of sky, land, water, and us! Our spine and sinew, which holds our posture strong and flexible, is figure-lined in the dunes, and sand flats, waves and clouds. A reminder of the continuum we exist with. A welcomed knowing of the threads that weave our soul.
Carrot friends, embrace the figure lines of nature, of our soul!
xo Bess
Sunday, June 3, 2012
With a Little Help From Our Spider Friend
It never ceases to amaze me how nature finds a way to balance itself ...and us.
Michael and I were enjoying an early morning breakfast on the deck with our niece Paige who was visiting. We made her our favorite homemade oatmeal mixed with yogurt, granola, and berries, alongside juice and fresh coffee from our latest travels to North Carolina. Paige was filling us in on her freshmen year experiences at University of Vermont and she was happy. It is energizing to talk to a young adult who is happy with where they're at and where they're going. Paige has decided to switch majors from NeuroScience to Biomedical Anthroplogy...who even knew that was an option? Sounds exciting! Spring is in full bloom and the feel of summer was felt in the warm breeze coming across the table. We remarked how glorious of a morning it was...what joy...we're all smiles. The breeze gets breezier and brings pine needles down upon us...pine needles and something else pelleting our skin, like seeds of some sort. We are curious to what is blowing in the wind and it takes a delayed second to realize that what is falling down on us is moving...teeny, tiny white worms, all curled in fetal position, landing on our arms, in our hair, in our oatmeal and juice...literally, there were hundreds of them...think Hitchcock here.
Okay, so gross. A delightful morning turned horror film. We scurried indoors, picked off any of the curly critters we could find, and searched for them on Google. Bagworms or Winter Moths...both like Birch trees and Pine trees, both of which have boughs hanging high above our deck. We have since found out that they are Winter Moths and after they chomp on all the leaves they can find, these Eric Carle caterpillars will burrow in the ground and hibernate until Fall. Ugghh!
We have now found them, bigger and plumper, foraging away at our beloved roses. Winter Moths also love rose bushes. This is not good. The Birch and Pine trees are bad enough but the delicate rose bushes have us worried. We pick them off and squish them by hand...much easier to stay calm around these Hitchcockian creatures when they are not in hordes. Daily, we find at least a dozen...but yesterday we noticed a most intricate silk thread design between the lattice fence and a rose leaf...a spider friend has come to save the day. This is how nature figures it out. Worms eat rose bushes, spiders eat worms, and the beauty of nature prevails. Can it be this simple? I think often times it can. It may not be as perfect as a red, red rose,but we too, can figure it out. We do have the insecticide with the picture of the worm handy, but our friend Charlotte taught us nature's greatest lesson...patience.
This leads to one of our other trials of gardening...our first year wildflower garden...trying to recreate a wildflower field reminiscent of the field we pick from, that Michael picked from on the morning of our wedding. We sowed seeds from several packets eight weeks ago and believed all we had were weeds. I know many of you feel that a weed is a wildflower looking for a home, and that can be true...but these were not flowering weeds, and, well, we wanted a colorful wildflower garden. The spiky Candida Thistle were not yielding to be picked for an airy bouquet. Not all weeds are created equal (but that's writing for another day). Here comes the patience part....we discovered a poppy in our field...it was rolled into a little orange conical hat, and there were several of them. Today they opened to the sun.
"Adopt the pace of Nature. Her secret is patience."- Ralph Waldo Emerson
Have patience carrot friends!
Michael and I were enjoying an early morning breakfast on the deck with our niece Paige who was visiting. We made her our favorite homemade oatmeal mixed with yogurt, granola, and berries, alongside juice and fresh coffee from our latest travels to North Carolina. Paige was filling us in on her freshmen year experiences at University of Vermont and she was happy. It is energizing to talk to a young adult who is happy with where they're at and where they're going. Paige has decided to switch majors from NeuroScience to Biomedical Anthroplogy...who even knew that was an option? Sounds exciting! Spring is in full bloom and the feel of summer was felt in the warm breeze coming across the table. We remarked how glorious of a morning it was...what joy...we're all smiles. The breeze gets breezier and brings pine needles down upon us...pine needles and something else pelleting our skin, like seeds of some sort. We are curious to what is blowing in the wind and it takes a delayed second to realize that what is falling down on us is moving...teeny, tiny white worms, all curled in fetal position, landing on our arms, in our hair, in our oatmeal and juice...literally, there were hundreds of them...think Hitchcock here.
Okay, so gross. A delightful morning turned horror film. We scurried indoors, picked off any of the curly critters we could find, and searched for them on Google. Bagworms or Winter Moths...both like Birch trees and Pine trees, both of which have boughs hanging high above our deck. We have since found out that they are Winter Moths and after they chomp on all the leaves they can find, these Eric Carle caterpillars will burrow in the ground and hibernate until Fall. Ugghh!
We have now found them, bigger and plumper, foraging away at our beloved roses. Winter Moths also love rose bushes. This is not good. The Birch and Pine trees are bad enough but the delicate rose bushes have us worried. We pick them off and squish them by hand...much easier to stay calm around these Hitchcockian creatures when they are not in hordes. Daily, we find at least a dozen...but yesterday we noticed a most intricate silk thread design between the lattice fence and a rose leaf...a spider friend has come to save the day. This is how nature figures it out. Worms eat rose bushes, spiders eat worms, and the beauty of nature prevails. Can it be this simple? I think often times it can. It may not be as perfect as a red, red rose,but we too, can figure it out. We do have the insecticide with the picture of the worm handy, but our friend Charlotte taught us nature's greatest lesson...patience.
This leads to one of our other trials of gardening...our first year wildflower garden...trying to recreate a wildflower field reminiscent of the field we pick from, that Michael picked from on the morning of our wedding. We sowed seeds from several packets eight weeks ago and believed all we had were weeds. I know many of you feel that a weed is a wildflower looking for a home, and that can be true...but these were not flowering weeds, and, well, we wanted a colorful wildflower garden. The spiky Candida Thistle were not yielding to be picked for an airy bouquet. Not all weeds are created equal (but that's writing for another day). Here comes the patience part....we discovered a poppy in our field...it was rolled into a little orange conical hat, and there were several of them. Today they opened to the sun.
"Adopt the pace of Nature. Her secret is patience."- Ralph Waldo Emerson
Have patience carrot friends!
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