snowshoeing

Eclipse in Totality

~ lmachayes ~ 4 Comments

My Guy and I had no idea what our plans were for today. We just knew that we wanted to find a place to enjoy the solar eclipse.

And then the invitation came and friends made connections and wrapped us in their tapestry and welcomed us into their midst so that we might enjoy the celestial event in one of the most beautiful places on Earth in the community of others.

This morning’s sunrise felt a bit like Christmas and so I arose early in anticipation of what was to come. I hope you did the same.

And then a few hours later after an hour and a half drive upta camp, we were welcomed to this place of peace.

The plan was for My Guy and two buddies to head off on their sleds for a few hours while I explored the area via snowshoes before others joined us for the afternoon celebration.

And they were off.

So was I. Who knew that they’d be sledding on April 8 and I’d be snowshoeing. As it turned out for me, it was actually the best snowshoeing adventure of the season, so firm was the snowpack.

Please don’t tell my sister, for I was given some directions about old logging roads and did some zigging and zagging and, of course, checked my GPS frequently, but I really had no idea where I was. And yet . . . I felt completely at home.

I found ledges filled with old friends tucked among the seams like Yellow Birch and Hemlocks growing where most other trees can’t take root.

And Broom Mosses . . .

and architecturally designed spider webs among the offerings.

There were kissing cousin trees . . .

and Striped Maple twigs showing off their growth rings and buds . . .

plus a few offering chandeliers of seeds.

I was told that when I reached the blue blazes, I should turn left to head back to the trail and so I did.

But still there was more to see, including the camp that served as today’s headquarters in view from my location.

Along the way, the flattened, antler-like portrayal of Boreal Oak Moss.

And one of my favorite finds: Beaked Hazelnut catkins.

And maybe the creme de la creme: Beaked Hazelnut flowers in bloom! So tiny. So sweet. So beautiful.

And then . . . and then . . . I discovered this fairy path through the evergreens and I knew there would be riches at the other end.

At the other end I was honored for there stood Alanna demonstrating the phase of today’s solar eclipse with the help of an Oreo cookie. And then she ate it.

Those who had gathered began to play with the shadows as the sun slipped behind the moon and we were all in awe of finger shadows that resembled tree frog’s suction cupped toes.

And crescents formed as the light filtered through tree shadows.

Darkness began to descend in the middle of the afternoon and we all watched the sky change and felt the temperature drop. Suddenly, we were cold again.

It was as if the sun had set, when indeed it still stood high in the sky.

Totality of the solar eclipse lasted about two minutes and we were a group of about 20 ranging in age from about 6 to, um, senior citizens, and every one of us was in total awe.

Before and after totality we watched the light dance on the snow in a way never experienced before.

We checked the tree shadows again, and noted how they had changed as the sun started to appear again.

Thank you to Alanna and Jason for inviting us to your special family place and to Brian for transporting My Guy’s sled. Celebrating this phenomenal event in community served as icing on the cake for an extra special day, with snowmobiling and snowshoeing being the base layers.

Solar Eclipse 2024. One for the books.

Smiling Our Way Through Winter Storm Kenan

~ lmachayes ~ 7 Comments

Since Kenan hadn’t yet delivered the amount of snow we were hoping for in western Maine, and shoveling seemed like a task best saved for tomorrow, we had time on our hands today. So, what should an antsy couple do, but strap on snowshoes and head out the door. Well, actually, head out the door, and then strap on the snowshoes.

Into Pondicherry Park did we venture, where even the covered bridge couldn’t provide a safe harbor from the flakes that flew sideways on the northwesterly wind.

With that in mind, we began to make a game of noticing how the flakes stuck to the trees, like these filling ridges.

Some were positioned like stacked layers of cotton balls.

Others held on despite the curvature of the trunk.

And still more formed half-hole coverings that turned woodpecker excavations into my third grade recorder (which I still have).

And then we looked for art forms such as this tangle highlighted in white.

And the boardwalk that was almost completely disguised as it snaked through the wetland.

Because we were outdoors we looked for tracks as well, but found only these prints who announced their creators.

And I practiced my snowshoe tightrope crossing–surprising myself with my prowess.

I think you’ll agree that our rosy cheeks tell the story of the stinging snow flakes–so propelled as they were by the biting wind.

At last we returned to the peace of our home and gave thanks for the warmth inside.

And then we received a couple of photos of our oldest son, who found his own way to survive much more snow in Boston.

He’s a Maine boy through and through.

It did our hearts good to know that like us, he was smiling his way through Winter Storm Kenan.

I hope you are as well. It’s almost 8pm here, and the wind speed has increased, and I know many are not as fortunate as we are to find fun in this storm. Wishing you all safety and warmth.

Folly of a Sun-Mondate

~ lmachayes

Into the wilderness of Sebago, Maine, we ventured upon land owned by Loon Echo Land Trust.

Sometimes we had to break trail.

Other times it was like the white carpet had been rolled out to show us the way.

And often, we found ourselves traveling the same route others had taken or crossed over, for such a corridor it is.

We tromped through a vast wetland.

And bushwhacked into what seemed like a never-ending shrub-land.

The hares made it all look so easy as they traveled back and forth on their packed-down snowshoe routes.

Meanwhile, the beavers remained snug at home despite frequent callers.

Though we couldn’t see steam rising from the lodge’s chimney, we suspected they reposed quietly within.

Nearby, their works of art added a decorative nature to the winter scene.

We spent one day seeing hugs . . .

and hearts in the forest.

And the next day exploring an unorganized territory; or was it?

It’s such a place where wooden birds fly.

And owl talons cling.

On Sunday, we snowshoed along a five-mile route, that was rather easy given that most of it was a snowmobile trail at Tiger Hill Community Forest, and paused briefly for lunch on a rock in the woods, followed later by a brownie beside Cold Rain Pond that I think my guy was still eating when I snapped this photo.

Today found us nearby at Perley Ponds-Northwest River Preserve, where the tree spirit chuckled for he knew before we did that our two-mile tramp would be much more challenging but we’d come upon unexpected finds that would add to this folly of a two-day Mondate on either side of Folly Road.