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Friday, August 30, 2019

Last Summer Weekend Begins


It's Friday morning of Labor Day weekend. How can it be? There is a nip in the air, but the sun is bright, the sky is blue, and everywhere you look, Northport is beautiful today, from Porcupine ...


to Barb's Bakery on Mill Street ...


to the beautiful library gardens ...


to Ed, singing his heart out down at the south end of the farmers market ... and, last but hardly least, here on Waukazoo Street:


Tuesday, August 27, 2019

Summer on the Wing


Some Up North summer mornings are magical. Moment by moment, they offer unexpected beauty, whether in the village or out on the back roads of the township. How many days are we fortunate enough to glimpse a great blue heron in flight along the creek? And why should someone have left a colorful bouquet on a country road signpost?


The truth is, though, that on a beautiful morning everything is beautiful -- the most "ordinary," quotidian scenes heartbreaking in their perfection. Ah, life! You shameless seducer, you!





Monday, August 26, 2019

Unless You Knew They Were There...


...and unless you stopped to look very carefully, you would never see them at all. Wily wild turkeys!



Thursday, August 22, 2019

Call It What You Like


Call it a wildflower or a weed. Call it soapwort or bouncing bet or Saponaria officinalis. These are its glory days.

Wednesday, August 21, 2019

Northport Harbor and Marina


Here are several views, from different perspectives, of our beautiful harbor and marina in Northport, Michigan.









Tuesday, August 6, 2019

Late Summer's Subtle Tones


Tall mullein spikes are flowering, and milkweed leaves are turning brown and gold, amid the lavender carpet of pesky, invasive spotted knapweed. If only the beauty of that invader's blossoms did not tint entire hillsides and fields with the color that tells us summer's end is drawing nearer --. If it were not quite so successful in taking over, it would doubtless be easier to hate. Instead, when morning walks or evening drives take me past open expanses in their August hues, I am carried back in memory to long-ago August vacations, the one or two weeks Up North that my downstate job permitted, and I feel again the poignancy of that fleeting time.