From Tasmania to Lake Superior

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We met a kayaker in 2019 while we were caretakers for Tasmania Parks snd Wildlife at Deal Island. Tim reconnected with him last year and learned he is connected with the Canadian Lighthouses of Lake Superior, which manages several lighthouses on the Canadian side of Lake Superior.

We were interviewed and invited to Porphyry Island, located north of Isle Royale (pronounced Royal by both Americans and Canadians). It’s the end of the season and we’ll help close the island. We’ve hosted lovely visitors as well.

We drove around the north of Lake ONTARIO and Lake Superior. We thought we would swim along the way but it was cold and rainy. We found a lovely pool though and swam before one of our days’ drive.

We found beautiful places to stop and tried to avoid typical fast food.

We arrived Sunday after the fog had lifted. There hadn’t been fog for a month but then it settled in thickly for a couple of days, just long enough for us to hope the solar panels would keep up.

The local bear decided to chew up one of the cart’s seats our first night. Always the bears! Luckily we had some duct tape to repair it.

The weather finally cleared today and we could appreciate the views.

Sleeping Giant to our west.

There’s a tradition of wood fired saunas along the lake. We tried it yesterday followed by cold plunges and found it a great way to end the day. I slept like the sleeping giant.

The lighthouse is smaller than we are used to. The Yeti cup is included for perspective.

This is actually a replica of the original which was demolished when they switched to diesel in the 1960’s.

If we lose our GPS on the boat, there’s a backup Radio Direction Finder (its predecessor) in the residence.

We found the black sand beach and s perfect place to lounge today.

Now I get to organize. And sleep to the sounds of waves crashing on the shore.

Tim urged me to include one of his photos of me planning my next task.

Pots of gold under the rainbow

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My bees’ honey for the year has been collected, spun, filtered, and bottled. All told they produced 41 pounds in 2 hives. There is still at least another 15 pounds out there but I think I’ll leave it for their winter stores. I’m not entirely altruistic, just exhausted from the whole sticky process.

This summer has been a whirlwind. I collected in stages. First I removed the capped honey frames and stored them while we entertained grandchildren and went camping. Then I spun the frames in a centrifuge to collect the honey. I made the mistake of doing it early in the day when it was cool and the honey was thick. I lost control of the process and made a bit of a mess of the wax and discard when I melted down the wax. Although I tried to clean up, doorknobs and any surface I touched had the faintest bit of stickiness as a reminder for days afterward.

In the meantime, a bird or dragonfly snatched Monty the Monarch chrysalis off its perch.

Our kids and most grandkids are coming here while we head off to a lighthouse in Lake Superior. I thought that spackle bucket might have come to a bad end so, as part of my travel preparations, I jarred the honey.

I’ll keep jars that have some wax in them for us and distribute the rest.

On our flight home from DC this weekend, after a fabulous visit with our newest, very happy grand daughter and her family, our flight captain announced we were heading into strong winds and thunderstorms. I was braced for the worst. Instead we saw this.

And came home to not one but at least 35 pots of gold.

Monty’s summer travels

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A couple of weeks ago, I pulled a milkweed plant out of the raised garden bed and spotted a monarch caterpillar. It was its lucky day. The grandkids were coming and it would be an intetesting exhibit. First thing they did was name it Monty.

That’s a hand not a mouth in the background

It lived in a large mason jar, initially with a cheesecloth lid. Last year I thought I had found monarch eggs, but when they started walking, realized they were actually aphids and not eggs at all.

We had an ample supply of milkweed leaves and Monty grew to about 2 inches in ten days.

Then the grandkids went home and we went on a vacation of our own. Monty came with us. Grandkids received updates.

Just as predicted, he climbed to the ceiling, now a coffee filter, and attached itself upside down. It hung like that for a day and then, while we slept, formed its chrysalis.

We came home only to turn around and go camping for a couple of days. It takes 10-14 days for the butterfly to emerge. We had an opportunity, while it dissolved and metamorphosed, and left it home on its own.

Since we couldn’t be sure we would be here when it emerges, it had to head back to nature. I read it could be easily moved because there was a fairly substantial tuft of silk securing it to the coffee filter.

I pried it off and secured it to a crabapple branch with dental floss.

I’ve seen a Monarch chrysalis before and remembered the delicate gold edging. But the best is yet to come.

Outside the thick of things

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Tim loves boats, all kinds of boats. There were going to be lots of boats and planes along the Hudson River for the 4th of July celebration. Tim planned to go. I was reluctant, I hate big crowds, there was a heatwave and who knows what hijinx the festivities would attract. First he planned an18 hour day trip I wanted no part of. Then he arranged a place to stay along the Hudson, with a balcony and air conditioning. This was more inviting so I booked an Amtrak ticket into Penn Station.

Turns out, a big wedding was going to take at place at Madison Square Garden right about when we arrived. Another wrinkle in the trip. Multiple exits and roads along the Garden were closed but we made it to the blocked off street, unscathed, and were greeted by a caravan of Black Cadillacs and Mercedes.

We made our way in the sweltering heat to the apartment where warships were already anchored in the river outside the balcony. Let the fun begin. First a wild thunderstorm rolled through with 70 mph winds that tossed boats and balcony furniture.

Followed by a stunning sunset.

The 4th began with numerous flyovers of all sorts of planes and bombers.

Then the tall ships, except for the Clearwater, which was kicked out for saying they wanted clean water, began to make their way north along the Hudson.

We had fun identifying international flags. If we were right, Ecuador, with a navy of nine ships, had two tall ships in the parade?
We watched from the balcony for a while but as it grew hotter, and we grew tired, we moved indoors. As the ships made their way back south, we knew the party was over and, like the ships, headed home.

Back to the islands

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I try not to miss a trip to the ocean whenever I visit Long Island. We had enough time this trip to return to Fire Island, where we spent one fabulous winter. During winter, residents (not mere seasonal residents like us) are permitted to drive to eastern towns because the ferry doesn’t run. This includes workers and the school buses. This season, a lot of beach has eroded and a school bus recently got stuck in the sand.

Perhaps they needed a pretty tread like this.

A Celtic knot might have helped.

Next, we visited Stony Brook Harbor, when the tide was low and the water was calm..

So calm it was hard to differentiate water from sky.

West Meadow Beach has been mostly restored to its natural state but the Gamecock Cottage still stands.

Lastly we visited the Big Island and admired the buildings, beautiful weather and people.


Three islands in three days. Quite a journey.

This plant is so dramatic

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If it needs water, it completely wilts. The first time I found it in a slump, I was ready to add it to the compost. I watered it and, to my surprise, a few hours later it pepped up. This has happened repeatedly. Today was a perfect example.

This morning

Leaves sagging over the pot and the petals completely drooping.

Tanked it up and Bob’s your uncle.

All perky, flowers standing tall and new buds on the way. Happy with just a little sunshine and water. Until the next time.

Illusions

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I’m a sucker for optical illusions. The mind plays tricks, even without AI, am I seeing what I think?

This photo from Rocky Mountain National Park always surprises me when it pops up in my photo library.

Is there something protruding in front of the rock? Or not? When I look at it quickly, there is. Step back and one can see the illusion because the shadow becomes less obvious.

This was another surprise. I sent this photo of pretty spring tulips to my daughter. She questioned where I bought the huge flowers. To her, they looked like they were sitting on the floor. But apparently our butcher block table looks exactly like our floor and was lined up perfectly so one cannot see where the table ends and the floor begins.

I won’t take anything for granted.

It’s written in the clouds

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It’s been a minute since I have felt the inspiration to write. So much chaos, ugliness and uncertainty in the air. My daily activities might appear insignificant but they are what keep me going. Especially keeping in contact with my family.

While I was out of town, helping my daughter and son-in-law with their delightful new baby, my stepson took this photo from my house.

Kelvin-Helmholz clouds

They look like ocean waves over our local mountain and were formed by different layers of wind speed. Tim had it framed and gave it to me for my birthday because he knows how much I love clouds and he loves me.

Appreciate the magic in the air.

What, me worry?

Pet or pest?

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It’s a matter of perspective. For the past several years, I haven’t had a pet, unless you consider bees pets, and I don’t. I’ve had dogs, cats, turtles, hamsters, fish. We had dogs who had puppies when I was young, ducks briefly, and then cats my adult life until now.

None could replace Shirley.

I adopted her and her sister, Oreo, as kittens. Oreo was lost in the wilds of Nissequogue, NY. Then we got Loki, a black and serious cat.

They lived on a catamaran with us, traveled to lighthouses and moved north to Adirondacks. They accommodated easily to their surroundings.

My last cat, Elli, died young and unexpectedly during the pandemic and I opted to take a pause.

Now there are signs we have a new pet. We went away for a few days and my indoor arugula plant was nibbled to the stem.

We caught one mouse but that wasn’t the culprit because this morning the dust in a joint between the concrete floor in the basement was pulled out in tufts.

It may be another mouse or it could be a self- sufficient pet. It’s all a matter of perspective.

Tour de France, Bordeaux

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We thought we would enjoy spending our last week in a medium sized city so returned to Bordeaux.

We stayed in a centrally located Airbnb in a third floor walk-up, known as the 2nd floor in France.

At least two protests took place beneath our balcony. We relied on various forms of public transportation: the SNCF train network; Blabla Cars; and Bordeaux’s trams and BATO’s to get around.

Things were hopping. Bordeaux is a vibrant city overflowing with young people, built on its history dating back to at least the 11th century. It had its seedy side as well. I saw someone blatantly steal meat at the grocery. I haven’t even seen that in NYC.

France is very advanced in addressing climate change. There was very little plastic, many people rode bikes, and mass transit was efficient. The bikes were a little much, everyone rode as if they were a NYC messenger. You had to look 3 ways, twice, before crossing.

We explored the Saint André Cathedral where Eleanor of Aquitaine married Louis VII in 1137 and became Queen of France shortly thereafter.

The best views were from the bell tower. We climbed 233 very narrow steps to reach the top and the view was worth it.

The gargoyles were a hoot.

The tower is topped by Our Lady of Aquitaine, who looks a little creepy from this angle.

I went to the Bourse a few times to try to get a good reflection. The first day it was too windy and grey.

There is artwork, sanctioned or not, throughout the city.

The urban French are devoted swimmers. We swam in a municipal pool and are lucky we survived to talk about it. I should have remembered this from when we swam in Montpellier on an earlier trip. There were 10-12 people to a lane and I couldn’t swim at a pace I enjoyed. First I tried to swim too fast to keep up. Then I moved to a slower lane but it was too slow and people, including me, were passing left and right, sometimes with collisions in the middle. Tim is a better swimmer than me, as in most of our athletic endeavors, and he hated it as well. Lesson learned: only swim in rural France.

Tim beat me with injuries this time. He fell on an uneven sidewalk, with his high-heel Hokas and banged himself up pretty well. I documented the color changes of his black eye.

It didn’t slow him down though.

We visited museums and then went to a luminaire version of Le Petit Prince for my pedestrian taste. It was very dark with kids chasing the lights as they moved along the floor but the music was good.

We saw people transporting pets in all sorts of carriers: baby carriages; crates tied to bike racks; and this frontpack with a little cat window.

It was a fine way to finish a great trip to France and a good time was had by all.