As municipalities emerged in the 19th century, the populace often took pride in the local identity – and this was reflected in the craftsmanship and details adorning their public buildings.
CIVIC PRIDE
Tag: New England
A TYPICAL TRAILHEAD
HIGH STREET STYLE
Situated at the mouth of the Merrimack River, Newburyport, Massachusetts, has a historic harbor and charming brick downtown – one that echoes many others in New England, for that matter. Its residential neighborhoods are likewise filled with a range of fascinating details from many historic styles. But for me, the real glory is High Street, built at the height of the lucrative whale oil business. Interspersed among the dominant federal-style houses are some other fine examples. Here’s a sampling.
FEDERAL ROW
The federal style of architecture flourished from the 1780s into the 1820s, and you’d be hard-pressed to find a finer sampling of it than in Newburyport, Massachusetts – especially along High Street. Here are a few examples.
PUTTING OUR FIRST GARDEN IN
SWINGING A SCYTHE
WELCOME RAIN
We’re not alone, I know, when it comes to unusual weather patterns.
In fact, I’m getting the feeling that the computerized models the forecasters rely on just don’t fit the changing realities. (One site I checked a couple of days ago had a projected high for the day of 71 F and a current reading of 76. In fact, the highs several days running before that, while we were waiting for an uncommon heat wave to break, were up to 20 degrees above expectations. Whew! ) Through much of the critical gardening season in May, our actual lows were often nearly 10 degrees below the forecast – a potentially costly error. And then there was one night a week or so ago when meteorologists changed the immediate outlook to 100 percent chance of rain overnight … and we got nada.
April, as it turned out, was slow motion – about three weeks behind our usual gardening routine. And then May, making up for the delays, allowed us to get more in the ground than usual.
The downside was that we didn’t get our usual rainfall. Officially, the month delivered a tenth of an inch. The seedlings and transplants had to be watered in a period where we’re usually concerned about root-rot and drowning. A month, typically, when I can’t keep the lawnmower wheels from sinking in the side of the yard we affectionately call the Swamp.
As I mowed the grass the other morning, I kept noticing how parched the ground is. This time of year?
Through all of this, we’re tallying up the effects of our long, nasty winter – the one that had snow cover for all but three of the coldest weeks in January. Dogwoods took a big hit, as did limbs of rhododendron and azalea. We’re missing a number of perennials, including the sage in the herb garden and salvia along the driveway.
So now it’s raining. What’s expected to be three days and more than two inches of precipitation. Welcome, welcome rain – even if it would have been much better doled out rather than dumped on us.
Oh, the joys of gardening …
50-50-50 RULE
Many folks won’t swim in the Gulf of Maine even in the height of summer. It’s just too cold, they say.
I can sympathize, though some perspective helps. Rarely is the Atlantic around here warm enough before the Fourth of July. Oh, there may be a few rare days, but nothing dependable. We’ve found that anything below 57 F is foolish – even when the air temp’s over a hundred.
Yup, 57. That’s the blue-toe limit: edge into the surf bit by bit. First, the toes. Then out. Back again, top of the foot. Out again. Back again, to the ankles. You get the idea. If you actually make it to total submersion, you come out fast. Like a bullet.
Over time swimming here, you might even get to the point where you can guess within a degree or two. Sixty’s about my bottom line for swimming. Sixty-five is where the water starts to get comfortable. And 70, a rare delight, is heavenly.
For reference, I’ve come to rely on the NOAA Northeast USA Recent Marine Data Web page, which includes readings from buoys. Lately, as the water temps have been edging 50 F – finally even a tad over before ebbing – it’s become a topic of conversation.
Which prompted this response the other day: Ever hear of the 50-50-50 Rule?
Eh?
Fifty minutes in 50-degree water gives you a 50 percent chance of drowning. (Or 50 percent chance of surviving, depending on your outlook on life.)
In light of the blue-toe limit, I had no idea the odds could be that favorable. Not that I ever intend to press them.
AND YOU THOUGHT TURTLES WERE SLOW?
Somehow I avoided most of the usual traffic tie-ups and wound up with some extra time to kill in the Boston area on what turned out to be the first afternoon with real spring in the air. Given the time to kill, I headed off, camera in hand, for a walk along the Charles River.
At one point, I looked down along the riverbank and saw a limb draped out into the water. Five turtles were sunning on it in a wonderful composition. The camera was in focus and I needed one more step before I aimed and clicked. Just as I did, they slipped one by one into the water.
Maybe next time.
On the way back, I came up on a couple, hand in hand, as they strolled along the pathway. Another great shot, this time of street fashion. They were in matching all black, except for his shorts, which were black with great swirls of yellow and orange. I should have taken a shot but wanted to respect their privacy.
Now I’m wishing I’d gone ahead anyway.
Two nights before, as I was heading off to a committee meeting, I saw the perfect shot of the tower on City Hall, its gold-leaf dome and golden weathervane brightly lighted by the setting sun against a slate-gray background. Unfortunately, I wasn’t carrying my camera.
That has me thinking how many great photos turn out to be like those turtles, just slipping out of sight.
Maybe it provides all the more respect for the good photos we have.
WHALE WATCH
One of the traditions I established after moving to New England meant venturing out for a whale watch each year. You never know what you’ll encounter. Sometimes it’s only a minke whale or two – the smallest of the ones we have. Or, at times, it becomes more than you can count.
In the past dozen years, though, the custom’s fallen by the wayside. Just too much else to do – and the ticket price has gone up. But as a way of getting out to sea, it’s still a cheap cruise … and it can be very peaceful, if you don’t get seasick on the way.
Jnana's Red Barn 