Autumn Kaleidoscope

We had searched every day for a scene such as this . . . with the kaleidoscope of autumn colors reflected in the waters . . . we came upon this oasis of tranquility on the outskirts of Boston . . . we were on our way back to Texas . . . and were stopping for a visit with Mom's cousin in Lynn, Massachusetts . . . photo taken four weeks ago today . . . on the 18th day of October . . .

Everything is now different as our kaleidoscope turns.
The colors, so brilliant, the light brightly burns.
We wonder at the beauty like never before.
The dazzling colors? We want to see more!

With each gentle turn we gaze in awe.
Have the leaves always been this color in Fall?
Have the flowers of Springtime always bloomed like this?
Have my family and friends always brought me such bliss?

Every day now counts. We seek something good.
We wish for a moment that everyone could
See through our eyes the joy and delight.
The extraordinary vision into our kaleidoscope of life.

The Kaleidoscope of Life
By
Sandy Brown

74 Beach Street

74 Beach Street
Saco, Maine
photo taken 4 weeks ago today
on the 16th day of October

The death of Mrs. Lizzie J. Brackett, wife of Peter Brackett of Saco, occurred at her home, 74 Beach street, about 5 o'clock Tuesday night at the age of 70 years and four months, after an illness of comparatively a few hours. Mrs. Brackett, who had been one of the most active and interested women in patriotic circles, was stricken with apoplexy Monday, since which time until her death Tuesday evening her condition was most critical. She was born in Scarboro, and was the daughter of William T. and Olive J. (Goodwin) Merrill, and was the oldest of a family of 11 children. Mrs. Brackett had lived for many years in Biddeford and Saco, where she has been a prominent member of the Pythian Sisterhood, the Golden Cross. She was also a member of the Christian Advent church on Hill street. She was possessed of most generous characteristics and was a friend in time of need. Besides her husband Mrs. Brackett leaves three brothers, Daniel H., George and Fred of Pine Point, and three sisters, Mrs. Phoebe Tripp of Gorham, Mrs. Nellie Sullivan and Emma Snow of Pine Point. The funeral will be Friday afternoon at 2 o'clock from the late residence. Relatives and friends invited without further notice. Biddeford Daily Journal, Biddeford, York County, Maine, Wednesday Evening, July 26, 1911, Page Eight.

Nubble Light :: Guest Post by My Mom

Nubble Light
York County, Maine
Photo by my Mom
taken 4 weeks ago today

Fairy Rose in Autumn

A Rose Blooming Late in Autumn

Rose, fair rose! why dost thou bloom
So lonely here? The garden's drear,
And thou dost give thy sweet perfume
But to the unconscious air.
Veil, then, thy bloom, and guard thy sweets
Till the bright hours of spring,
For now thy blush no Philomela greets,
Nor at thy closing hour thy dirge will sing.

---

My Own World

I live in a dear little world of my own,
Where hope ever smiles and griefs never come;
And vines are enwreathing my own little bow'r,
That blossom and bud and are ever in flow'r.

When the wind whistles low and bright stars are shining,
'Mong roses and myrtles I soft lay reclining,
And phantoms of bliss around me then hover,
And, smiling, comes joy, and dimpled all over.

When the moon looks down through the leaves of the trees,
And the sweet breath of zephyr comes on the breeze,
Such whisp'rings of music steal through my bower,
As lightly it wooes the buds and the flow'r.

I dream that bright spirits from some far sphere
Have come in their love to visit me here;
My soul bursts its fetters and throws off its care,
To hold in the converse of spirits a share.

When morning, bright-gemm'd, through the gray dawn is stealing,
And the slumber of birds and of flow'rs is unsealing;
When the ripple of waters runs sparkling and clear,
And fresh opens the rose in the coppice-wood near;

My spirit goes forth all joyous and bright,
While the glory of day, in its splendor of light,
Bears it onward and on through the blue vault of heav'n,
Till it joins the mild hours that herald the even.

Then softly it seeks the horizon's pale verge,
Where Venus, soft pillow'd, reclines on the surge,
And, nestling 'raid rose-tints and dew-gems till dawn,
Rises buoyant and fresh with the bright coming morn.

from
Autumn musings, and other poems
by
Elizabeth Hazard
J.B. Lippincott & co., 1874

OOB & Peaks Island :: Guest Post by My Mom

Both of these photos were done by my Mom . . . four weeks ago today . . . on the 10th day of October . . . in Maine . . . she was up early most mornings . . . and this wound up being the spectacular morning for color at OOB . . . we were about a mile from the pier . . . and she walked down there to capture several really nice images, including the one above . . .

We had enjoyed our day (the 9th) at Peak's Island so much that we decided to go back again . . . this time we took sandwiches and enjoyed a casual day strolling around looking for the areas where our Elizabeth had been photographed back in the 1920s . . . we also spent time both days looking for seaglass . . . and that is what I was doing when Mom captured the above image . . . this was while we were waiting for the ferry to pick us up for the return trip to Portland . . .

Graveyard Photo Session

This photo was taken four weeks ago today at the Laurel Hill Cemetery on the banks of the Saco River in York County, Maine . . . this beautiful Victorian garden cemetery is the final resting place of my maternal grandma and several of her family members . . . and it apparently a choice spot for photography sessions . . . including wedding parties! . . . I would assume the bride was planning on plenty of brilliant autumn color for her wedding photos . . . but alas, that was not to be . . . the color did not arrive in New England as scheduled during this Autumn of 2011 . . . nevertheless, we especially appreciated seeing green while away from this drought-blemished State of Texas . . .

OOB :: Guest Post by My Mom

This photo was taken by my Mom . . . four weeks ago today . . . early in the morning at Old Orchard Beach in Maine . . . notice the steam rising from the ocean water? . . .

We visited two cemeteries that day . . . Eastern Cemetery in Gorham, Maine (where our Phebe is buried) . . . and Dunstan Cemetery in Cumberland County, Maine (where Phebe's parents and assorted kith 'n kin are buried) . . . and my photos from that day are mostly boring cemetery shots . . . so Mom is providing the photo for today . . . Thanks, Mom!

OOB Memories

I took this photo four weeks ago today . . . on the 6th day of October . . . which was the first day we arrived at our temporary home away from home (for two weeks) at Old Orchard Beach in Maine . . . that's my Mom standing at the water's edge . . . and I am standing on the balcony of our beach house . . .

Blue Damselflies

I think mayhaps I captured images of both the Common Blue Damselfly . . . as well as the Azure Damselfly . . . they were swarming around some white-flowering weeds in my yard (similar to baby's breath) . . . such a nice unexpected surprise!

Seasons

To everything (turn, turn, turn)
There is a season (turn, turn, turn)
And a time for every purpose, under heaven

A time to be born, a time to die
A time to plant, a time to reap
A time to kill, a time to heal
A time to laugh, a time to weep

To everything (turn, turn, turn)
There is a season (turn, turn, turn)
And a time for every purpose, under heaven

A time to build up,a time to break down
A time to dance, a time to mourn
A time to cast away stones,
a time to gather stones together

To everything (turn, turn, turn)
There is a season (turn, turn, turn)
And a time for every purpose, under heaven

A time of love, a time of hate
A time of war, a time of peace
A time you may embrace,
a time to refrain from embracing

To everything (turn, turn, turn)
There is a season (turn, turn, turn)
And a time for every purpose, under heaven

A time to gain, a time to lose
A time to rend, a time to sew
A time to love, a time to hate
A time for peace, I swear its not too late

Words from the book of Ecclesiastes
Music and additional words
by
Pete Seeger (1954)

This photo showcases another of my James Avery pieces . . . a four seasons ring . . . it is displayed on the glass of a shadow-box containing one of my tatting displays . . . this ring arrived last week . . . purchased during this season, the autumn of my life . . .