Dreamtime
Neither hot nor cold. Warming sun, cooling shade. Long, unhurried hours. Cricket trill and cicada buzz. A pervading sense of peacefulness. Suspended animation. Time slowed, and the space between summer and fall caught in amber.
Neither hot nor cold. Warming sun, cooling shade. Long, unhurried hours. Cricket trill and cicada buzz. A pervading sense of peacefulness. Suspended animation. Time slowed, and the space between summer and fall caught in amber.
…and boats to the beach.
Photo by John
And here we have beet juice fractals spreading into Asian sauce.
Dinner was good
Weather highly perfect.
Sweatshirt weather. Gray battleship clouds. Peas done. Late-planted beans flowering. First ripe tomatoes yesterday. North wind off the water, carrying loon calls.
Monarch overnighting on larch
Fish dip and smoked trout on the lower deck
…for fish and chips, of course.
Very necessary annual event—and the place will be closing for the season soon. Delicious.
And here is some Stone Age art we saw at the Muchmore. Just pebbles and a glue gun. This year lamps, next year pebble pictures.
…now, ready for launch—next year—which will be all the more sweet for this missed season.
On the soundtrack today: crow, jay nuthatch, chickadee, kingfisher, loon, woodpecker hammering, and merganser splashing. See below for a selection of videos made by Bri last week.
Big spruce, part of the dense forest, right to the water’s edge, where the land has not been cleared
A special post featuring Brian’s GoPro videos.
Cedars heavily loaded with seeds.
Lots of spruce cones too. But no Tamiasciurus hudsonicus to enjoy the bounty. Haven’t heard or seen a little red squirrel in the last month. The trees were stingy the past two years, and apparently got rid of their perceived threat. I’m just hoping that some squirrels have survived on the Island, and that next year the population will spread from wherever that is back to here. The forest is diminished without Tamia.
Pretty much everything reset from family gathering place to to quiet, out-of/the-way, natural retreat.
Forlorn sandbox
Cinqfoil
Bri’s lake trout on the menu tonight—prepared and cooked here but taken to Pinebox for the actual serving. Irrigated in a mix of egg, milk, and butter, then dredged in a mix of flour, cornmeal, and saltine crumbs. Fried on the outdoor griddle in just a little oil.
Sensational. Loud acclaim and cries of “more!”
Lots of moisture today. Light rain at 5:30 as the Nies contingent was boarding for departure, followed minutes later by a heavy downpour. Then, just after noon, another round of precip, this time an hour or more of rain coming down heavy as stair rods. Good for the forest and garden, and no threat of a fire ban this summer, thank the lucky stars.
Abby, Katy, and Will on the road back to Wisconsin by 5:30 a.m. Nies family, while still busy, slowly gathering and packing up for a 5:30 start tomorrow. Bri able to spend a few hours fishing the big water with Andrew.
Lake trout
More Pinebox lamps
…and the rock maze, the tree maze, Chocolate Works, to the marina by Wilker, to the driveway for the dance show, etcetera—in other words three days worth of fun shoehorned into one day.
…and market day. A variety of delicious pizzas, all made by cousins (with dough by Mary Ellen).
From a.m lamp making at Pinebox to evening native dance around the fire pit, another full day, including lunch and exploration in Gore Bay.
From big breakfast from the grill to s’mores, skinny dipping and minute of silence watching the moon rise.
Overall fun day.
Abby, Katy, Will arrived this afternoon and the cousins are hiking, swimming, building Fairy houses, reading, and generally having a great time.
…and so busy having fun I almost forgot to do a blog.
…Manitoulin Team.
Three years in the making, and at last a team—with bylaws, officers, and an agenda. Delicious lunch provided by Mary Ellen and Sue.
Perfect summer day, especially on or by the water.
Bunchberries
West wind, so calm on our side of the bay, thus a good day to launch chi-cheemaun (big canoe), a 21 foot handmade cedar strip kayak.