Feeds:
Posts
Comments

I’m not as limber as I once was and so I was having difficulty getting through the window but I didn’t have to fret for long because a stranger took my hand and pulled me through and when I lost my shoe on the rim of the window frame, he picked it up and gave it back to me and then turned and continued to help other strangers out of the train.

I wasn’t sure that I’d write about the chaotic experience of being on the Orange Line train yesterday in Boston’s Back Bay Station that filled with smoke. In the moment I was less concerned about the possibility of a fire in the station and more concerned about the growing panic of the people around me. Later I just wanted to let the incident go. But then today I picked up something and I remembered the feel of that man’s hand holding mine.

It was rush hour. People had had a long day and just wanted to get home. The car in which I stood was not packed but it was tight enough especially as most of us wore the beginnings of our winter gear. The lights were on but there wasn’t much air circulating and the intercom system must not have been working because there was no news being shared by anyone. The train had partially pulled away from Back Bay Station before coming to a halt, and later, officials would note that that was the reason the train operator could not open the doors, because of the danger of people stepping onto the tracks and landing on the electrified third rail. But most people were not thinking of that as the smoke grew thicker, and from inside the car, we could see people on the platform start to run for exits.

Even as I was starting to say, please, be calm, I felt my own panic rising. And then people began to scream, especially when they realized the doors were not opening. People began beating at the windows. The smaller windows on the sliding doors were easier to break. Individual flight was on many a person’s mind for sure but others were trying to help scared people through the small openings. Then in the part of the car where I stood, a man on the platform motioned people away from a larger window. He was not a train official or one of the policeman stationed in the area. He was just a regular guy. He kicked at the window, again and again, until it flew in, a single large sheet, shattering into a spider’s web pattern but no jagged edges did I see. People started leaping out the window while that man and some others stood, held out their hands and helped strangers out. I did not stop to ask his name but I think I shall never forget him.

Read more: Boston Globe article

preparing for winter

I need to prepare for winter in all sorts of ways. I am beginning by planning my garden. I finally, finally, finally cleared away those things that had died or had served their time and their purpose. I consolidated the potted herbs that thrived like the oregano with those herbs struggling but worth nurturing like the tarragon. Spread around me are empty pots, vases and votives. So many votives in different colors and sizes. I love lighting tealight candles in the winter time, not so much to banish the darkness but to bring out the beauty as light and shadow dance on the various surfaces.

In previous winters I’ve grown tomatoes and potatoes in addition to herbs, sprouts and edible flowers. I live in a house with many windows so there is a wonderful greenhouse effect. Though I sometimes freeze the plants do surprisingly well as light pours in at different angles throughout the wintry days. It’s not yet happened but it will — the oak tree that towers over one side of the house will lose its leaves and even more light will enter. I try to remember that as I plan my gardening strategy.

It is also a decorating strategy. What is it that I want to see and perhaps even need to see in the winter time as I enter a room or hallway in my home? What do I want others to see? While I don’t think I think it through that thoroughly it is a rather, soothing creative time. It might also be a procrastination time … there are so many books I need to read, want to read, and things I need to write. But I choose to believe that putting those things aside, concentrating on this task of cleaning, arranging and strategizing is part of my creative process.

I am done for the day and pleased enough with the results so far. My to do list for next week includes buying a small bag of potting soil and then I’ll begin to plant my sprouts and we’ll see what else falls in to the soil.

reading water

Focusing my camera on rocks and water and sand on the shores of Revere Beach. There’s a story in their interaction but I just don’t know how to read it yet. That’s why yesterday I picked up Tristan Gooley’s How to Read Water. It’s subtitle – Clues and Patterns from Puddles to the Sea – captured me. If I don’t post for a while, it’ll be because I’m lost a darn good book. Meanwhile, have a good weekend, folks. 🙂

the answer is …

… light, wind, and water in action at the Copley Square fountain in Boston. It was a breezy day with bright sun. I sat by the water’s edge with my camera tucked away, intent upon eating a late lunch. I’m glad I had no expectation because I may not have seen what I did see just by sitting quietly by the water. After a while I could not ignore what I was seeing and so I had to put away my lunch, dig out my camera, and begin to photograph the motion before me.

Autumn leaves floating on the water’s surface first caught my attention, but the brightest of the leaves lay on the bottom.  I’m not sure what forces kept them there even as the fountain’s mechanics and nature’s wind erratically churned the water. The sun was bright too, low angled. It dispersed in the waters producing rainbows.

Nearby buildings and surrounding trees were reflected so they appeared to float above the sunken leaves. A friend came over and sat next to me, and while I listened intently, yes I did, my eyes kept sliding back to the water to see what a friend describes as the accidental and casual things water does to light.

Accept for playing around with my ISO settings on the spot, there is minimal post processing of these images. If you chance by the fountain and sit by its side, if the day is sunny and the wind is rippling the water’s surface, this is what you might see too. Or maybe something different. But I think it will all be beautiful.

 

guess where

🙂

the fig leaf

I finally found the leaf, curled but not crumbled, at the bottom of a bag. It survived the trip from South Carolina through three states before returning to Massachusetts. It came from a tree in my uncle’s yard originally planted by his wife. One day at the kitchen table she mentioned making a cup of fig tea. I’d never heard of such a thing.

She pointed to the tree outside, wide canopied with dark flat leaves, and said it was too bad we hadn’t been visiting when the branches had been weighted down with fruit and the birds were all about. She sometimes made a jam, she said, but this year she just pulled off some leaves to dry and make tea. As I snapped off my leaf, I promised to photograph it as it dried and then its final journey into tea. She laughed.

I think this leaf has a bit more drying to do and until then makes a fun photographic subject.

 

 

new guidebook available

Trinity Church in the City of Boston has produced a new guidebook that highlights and explores the art and architectural features of this historic gem. The 48-pages feature information about the principal makers of the building, its design and construction which primarily took place between 1872-1877, interior and exterior decorations, and much more. It is a visual treat with reproductions of original sketches, early watercolor paintings, as well as interior and exterior images by many fine local photographers. I am honored to have two photos in this book including this detail from John La Farge’s Purity stained glass window.

As noted at the end of the publication, the guidebook is dedicated to Edward Earl Duffy (1960-2012), a Trinity Church parishioner and tour guide who loved the building’s art and architectural legacy. The book is available for $11.95 in the church gift shop. Enjoy!

Save

the water shapes the sand

and the sand shapes the water. A view while crouching in the sand at Revere Beach. Available as blank notecard here.

Walking through Belle Isle Marsh is not a traditional escape into the wild. Logan Airport is nearby so passenger planes fly overhead continuously. Stare into the distance and in one direction, over the marshy land, you see the glittering cityscape of downtown Boston skycrapers. In another direction you see the candy colored houses of residents who live nearby. It is a well-attended, and well-tended, state park located in East Boston. I tend to visit late in the day on a Sunday for about an hour which once led to the creation of this book, One Hour in Belle Isle. After the recent long journey it was a treat to return to this familiar place. To see autumn unfolding in the salt marsh. And yes once again for about an hour.

 

Seen at Swan Lake Iris Garden: http://www.sumtersc.gov/swan-lake-iris-gardens