Tag Archives: massachusetts
Spring Excursions
| Well, you haven’t seen any blogs in a while because this spring has been so busy. Yang and I have had more than a few excursions, so I have plenty to report. Unfortunately, I don’t have a lot of pictures because we were too busy enjoying the wonderful scenery or sighting extraordinary critters. So, let’s get started. To get a really good look at the photos, be sure to click on them.
Later on, we were off on our bicycles and checked out the extension of the Fairhaven trail to We also saw a Great Egret. Sorry, no picture. But his legs and feet are something: long black gams
We made it to the trail we call “The Secret Place,” even though it’s not so very secret since we And wouldn’t you know, here’s another Yellowlegs. I’m not sure if it’s the Greater of the Lesser, but it’s definitely a Yellowlegs. To get a really good look, be sure to click on the photo. We also saw a Mamma Mallard with her ducklings. At one point, the kids swam into and around the Finally, we did sight an extraordinary first-ever bird for both of us: a Blue-Winged Warbler. Of course, we were unable to get a good shot of him, so I’ll include a professional photo of one. this guy was a brilliant yellow, almost with a hint of orange; his wings were a blue-grey. His color
Finally, here’s a tale of Yang’s heroism. We were walking on the Blackstone River Trail in Worcester,
So, that’s all for now – and I haven’t even reported on everything!
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Halibut Point Feathered Friends
Two Fridays back, Yang and I happened to be on the North Shore, so we stayed overnight in order to make an early visit to Halibut Point State Park. We’d been meaning to get there since November, after hearing about all the cool water fowl hanging out there. Unfortunately, the opportunity hadn’t come up before this. So, after our breakfast of bagels and cream cheese (yum!), we headed out to the state park. We were not disappointed. In the quarry, we spotted a Scaup, Black Ducks, and Mallards. When we headed for the ocean, we got an even bigger treat. Here you see me peering out at the ocean’s wonderland – or wonderwater- of ducks. Isn’t that point beautiful?
At first, we saw only a couple of pairs of Harlequin Ducks, looking absolutely adorable. All the FB bird
Mrs. Harley seems to be finding a snack while her husband looks on.
Then we saw this Loon way off above the group of Harlequins. It’s the white figure in the upper left corner. Wouldn’t you know, we also saw plenty of flocks of Scoters.
Here’s a closeup of a female Scoter. I believe these are all Black Scoters.
When we moved onto the harbor at Rockport, Yang also got a shot of a male Eider Duck. Usually we
Then, finally, what should we espy on the other side of the point in the harbor in Rockport? We thought we it was a brown female eider – except, Yang said that once the critter dived he could see her walking under water. Huh? Then “she” came up.
Yup, a seal! So I hope this critter can be a “seal” of approval for today’s blog.
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She Can Do It! And so Can Janet and I!
I first met sister-author Janet Raye Stevens when my friend Lisa Lieberman (another mystery Janet and I both love the 1940s, especially the era’s sharp and challenging mysteries, which inspire our own writing. We are especially taken by the “smart-talking gals” populating 1930s-40s mysteries, neither femme fatale not babyish innocent: a woman who has been around, learned the ropes, but has not lost her integrity.
However, you can’t talk about the influence of movie smart-talking gals without showing some clips, can you? For fun, we showed a clip from a 1938 Nancy Drew movies, where a teenage Nancy not only recognizes a kidnapping and tracks kidnappers in her car, only thwarted when her car has a flat – which she changes herself without missing a beat. Sisters were doing it for themselves in 1938, and we talked about how the wave of independence continued through the 1940s, in real and reel life.
So, if you think this evening sounded like fun, get in touch with Janet (janetrayestevens@gmail.com) or me (syang@worcester.edu) and maybe we can make an appearance at a library, senior center, or other venue near you. (P.S. Yang made my suit based on an actual 1940s suit that I own!) |
Gooseberry Island Redux – or Reducks?
Out of the Fog: Long-Tailed Ducks!
Mallard, Mallard, Merganser?!
Late Winter Birds, Far and Near
Last Glimpses of Autumn
Here we are with only two days left to November, closing out autumn.
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Hillside Cemetery, A Dunwich Kind of Place
Well, here I go trying to create a new blog with WordPress’s Godawful new editor. Forgive me if this comes out crappy. It’s taken me forever to figure out how to switch back and forth between html editor and visual-nothing is clearly labeled or explained. I know this format is much uglier than the one I had previously. We’re all at the mercy of tasteless, unimaginative, homogenizing forces.
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Anyway, let’s move on to a more enjoyable descent into darkness. Here’s a
last gasp at wintry images with Part 2 of my report on the Hillside Cemetery of North Adams. Across the street from the original portion of the graveyard, lonely mountains rise up to close you you in and the rest of the world out on this grey day.
hillside. With the rolling slopes here, the graves, mostly 19th century, tilt and are almost upended as the ground has settled and shifted over the years-or is someone or something trying to push out?

And those slopes are pretty darned high, too, with gravestones and monuments, bleakly, implacably towering upward from an earth both browned by autumn and frosted by snow.
brutal western Massachusetts winds, rain,
and snow have not been kind to them, gradually wearing them down to softened blurs in many cases. The dove embracing this shrouded cross has lost its distinctive features and now softly merges into the cross’s drapery. The child and the lamb, representing her innocence, have melted into the seat of broken rocks symbolizing her life cut too short, too soon. A
relief that should have preserved a woman’s identity in endurable stone for eternity has blurred her features into gentle vagueness. Even her identity in the form of name, family, and birth and death dates have been smoothed away to soft whiteness. A book of life’s secrets
has subsumed its truths into a creamy blank of pages melted together, marked only by the stain of mold and decay. Or might this be an edition of the Necronomicon?
Of course there are also still striking images of angels and symbolic broken columns, some standing relentless against nature’s assault by winds, weather, and devouring by lichen and mold. 

it is impressive, especially for the art deco angel guarding the resting bodies of the family beneath. There’s a wonderful starkness in its rising near the crest of the rolling hill, the dark tree grasping hungry branches at the sky beyond it.
