I took these photos of blooming flowers, ivy, trees, shrubs, greenery, moss and other life forms during a couple of early mornings at Laurel Hill Cemetery in Saco. It was during these walks that I experienced a deep peace I hadn’t felt in a very long time. I hope the peace of this special place reaches you through this post:
Yesterday at daybreak Wayne and I went for a walk at Calvary Cemetery in South Portland. Walking in and photographing old graveyards and cemeteries has been a passion of mine for many years. If you haven’t seen my past blog posts please click the link, I think you’ll enjoy them. I didn’t sleep the night before because I had spent much of it crying and laying awake thinking about the hawk and Buddy. I wanted to honor his life and make peace with his passing in a somber, spiritual setting while getting some fresh air and exercise with Wayne. I also sensed there was something I needed to see.
Yesterday evening after watching Lawrence Welk I was sitting on the rocking chair in the sunroom. I saw my neighbor’s chipmunk I named Buddy standing up looking over at my house. Ricky had more babies and he has been very interested in everything happening. Like all chipmunks he is sweet, charming and curious. They continually fill me with joy.
Wayne came in and was standing somewhat in front of me when I saw something odd in the neighbor’s yard behind him where Buddy had been standing. I didn’t have my glasses on and the sun was low in the sky behind her house. I put on my glasses. It was a hawk perched on the ground with its wings partially open looking like a large angel of death. I ran out but it was too late. I watched it fly away with Buddy. I’m devastated. I had always prayed that I would never witness this very thing. I was able to save his life almost one year ago when a hawk was dive-bombing him. Not this time.
Maine’s autumnal show ain’t over til it’s over! There is still much to appreciate right now including my new chipmunk friend, Cider. At first I thought he lived in my neighbor’s yard but I followed him home and see that he’s living on the other side of my house. About four days ago Buster and Ricky went south (a few feet) underground for the winter so they aren’t here to chase Cider away. Sunny is still awake but I know that she, too will soon be in torpor for winter and the passing of summer’s growth will be complete once it’s covered with a cold white blanket. Thankfully that’s not happening in the near future!
Here are some pics I just took to share all this remaining loveliness with you, including Cider’s audition to be a model.
I haven’t seen my dear little Buster in over a week, and Sunny hasn’t been by since last month. I did see a fox run into the woods near Buster’s burrow a few days ago. I also heard a hawk in the woods later that day. Maybe it was the same hawk that dive-bombed my neighbor’s bird-seed party, the attendants of which were numerous songbirds and the chipmunk that lives in her front yard.
This morning we attended services at Saint Peter’s By the Sea in Cape Neddick now that the summer chapels are opening for the season. Next week our beloved Saint Anne’s will be opening where we’ll attend services all summer. So excited! I dream about it all winter. We stopped at Perkins Cove in Ogunquit on the way to church:
This past Sunday on the way to church Wayne and I stopped at the flea market, or rather, he sat in the car to read the New Yorker as I made my rounds. I had decided earlier in the week that the antique primitive jelly cupboard that I had repurposed into a shoe closet in my home office is too glorious to not be in my kitchen. I simply needed to find three antique crates that would stack nicely to coordinate with the others I had to take its place.
While I think it’s a sin to pray for material possessions, especially luxury wishes, the flea market fairies with whom I had shared my wishes delivered in a very crafty way! The price was right and I carried my new treasure all the way back to the car which, true to a flea find, was dusty and a bit dirty. It left some light soiling on my chinos as it brushed up against my legs as I walked. Yikes! I quickly decided it was simply a patina on my pants and it was fine for church.
George H.W. Bush had always simply been a former President to me and Wayne, that is until we became members of St. Ann’s. We’ve had the honor to witness the Bush family as human beings and fellow parishioners, and are moved by how genuinely lovely they are. We had many conversations after that first time we saw them about how we both had been guilty of dehumanizing them over the years if we didn’t agree with decisions they had made as politicians. Seeing them as a close-knit family where former Presidents are loving fathers and grandpas was a teaching moment and humbling. Our hearts and prayers are with the Bush family as they grieve the loss of a wonderful human being, great grandpa, grandpa and father.
In the news: Kennebunkport pays homage to a fellow townsman
I shot these photos two years ago when Wayne and I took a morning walk in Calvary Cemetery, South Portland. We spoke of life, death, and the mystery of what’s to come. The sunlight, crisp air and golden descent of decaying leaves back to earth where they will cover and nourish the ground was stunning. When I looked into the “eyes” of the old moss covered statues they seemed to be possessed with the spirits of people we’ve never met.
Last week I noticed what appeared to be a large bird in my woods. I walked closer and saw that it was a hawk. Hawks eat chipmunks and are not welcome on my property, especially when they are dangerously close to Buster’s burrow at the edge of the woods. In animated NYC fashion I told it to get lost. Perched on a branch up high it watched my little performance, and when I was finished it flew away. There! I showed him!