A Real Calendar

The change of seasons recorded in our calendars do not seem like a real reflection of what is happening in the natural world.  Sure the seasons are based on the solstices and equinoxes, but this is way off.

A more realistic calendar would be made of rubber so it could stretch a bit this way and that.  It would mark the end of the year as the first frost.  This is when the whole insect and plant ecosystem do an abrupt, sudden about face.   Spring would begin when the first wood frogs sing (mid March).   Fall would start with the monarch migration and summer would be marked by…well there are too many choices there.  FGT

More Book tidbits

The Story behind the Story

Summer’s Afterglow

In many ways this is my favorite time of year.  The black cherries are still going strong as are the beach plums.  Last night on my bike ride, the air was full of the scent of wild grapes.  The first two weeks of September are also the peak for saltwater activities.  The water temps are still warm and the water is full of fish.

Book Signings

The huge white flowers of auriculatum rhododendron are blooming.  I think they smell like minty melon.  Stroll through the gardens, visit the very friendly chickens and watch pottery demonstrations using unusual leaves.

Signed copies will be available during the South Coast Open Studio Tours, July 20 – 21st and August 17 – 18th, as well as theArtdrive August 9 thru 11th.  Come experience some of the sites that inspired In the Wake of the Willows.

Visit SouthCoastArtists.org and theArtdrive.org for downloadable maps and driving apps.

Special Delivery

Sold out!

The first printing of the first edition has sold out from our shelves and from Partner’s Village Store in Westport.  There are still a few copies at Courtyards in Tiverton, Anthi’s Drawing Room in New Bedford, Titcomb’s Bookshop in East Sandwich on Cape Cod, and the Bunch of Grapes in Vineyard Haven on Martha’s Vineyard.

We expect the second printing to arrive at our house today.

Whispering Waxwings

Blueberries are ripening, but the catbirds, and now the waxwings, are cleaning them up before I can get to them.  I still found a few and the picking was very pleasant because I was listening to the waxwings whispering to me, and enjoying the scent of swamp azaleas.