The Equinox...or Thereabouts

This weekend was the usually annual Equinox gathering on the beach. Goats sacrificed, libations made, reckless dancing, the whole nine yards. The actual equinox falls midweek, making this premature equinoctial celebration necessary. Not the best weather, but just as sunset approached things warmed up and a break in the cloud cover made for a spectacular sunset. I did not record the event, but on Sunday I went down for a couple of hours to work in the fall weekend quiet and on this evening there was a pleasantly luminescent sunset...and one lonely wave rose up to watch it. Or is that the Loch Erie Monster. Now that I think of it I did hear a plaintive antediluvian wail just as the "wave" disappeared.


I made a couple of small sketches using white and black stones, of which there was an abundance lying about this week. It is my homage to Kasimir Malevich. I particularly like the black square.

I also made a quick stick circle as the sun was setting, but I didn't finish it in time to get a good picture. You can however just make it out at the bottom of this picture as the sun was setting.

So, that was the weekend at the Beachworks. Happy Equinox.

A Sketch

I have not been down to the beach for many sunsets this year, having instead usually gone down in the early afternoon, but on this occasion I was lucky enough to enjoy a nice blood red sun. These usually bring out a range of purples and indigos and blues and they also have a tendency to light up the things on shore with interesting effects. In this case a transluscent fish...

...or a section of wall gets gilded. It is always a pleasant evening light with which to experience the beach.

I did a little sketch on our expanding beach. As lake levels lower a bit and a three day blow from the east, probably thanks to the hurricanes rolling up the eastern seaboard, deposited a goodly new stretch of beach I have inherited a bigger area to play. So here is the first of the fall eforts. It turned out OK, but was just something to get me back into the addiction. Everytime I do one of these little stone ones I'm newly amazed at the range of colors these beach cobbles come in.

The End is Near

As August winds down and the nights start to have a bit of a chill, the lake becomes more volatile, prone to emotional outbursts. Wind gets windier, the sun gets cleaner and cooler, the clouds more insistent, the waves get pushier. On one such day I was down at the beach, working on wasting some time and the waves were beating up against my wall and trying to pull stones out of it while at the same time throwing other stones up on the beach elsewhere. Somewhere the waves were given the impression that raw materials were a fair trade for hand crafted finished work. I, however felt that I was getting the short end as I wasn't being compensated for the hours. Sure, it was nice to get some new stone, but when you are giving up the bottom row of stones on a wall, it seems a bit unfair.

These two pictures were taken from the platform on the wall. The waves were coming in with impressive force and regularity and while sitting there watching them it was easy to get the sense that you were on the edge of everything or nothing.

Twice during August I was visited by a Bald Eagle. A sight more common these last years. It perches in a dead tree just down the beach and scans the shoreline. The last time he visited, I was out in the water and I decided to go get my camera and see if I could get a picture. As I got the camera he took off over my head so I took this picture. He headed past me out over the lake about 30 yards past where I had just been in the water and then he took a dive. It was a very picturesquely eagle-like kind of maneuver on his part and I tried to capture it camerically, but when I hit the button I was informed that my camera card was full. While I was busy swearing, it pulled a pretty good sized fish out of the lake and then flew back over my head about 20 feet off the ground and then up over the bluff to partake of his catch. As it passed I swear I heard it chuckling at my failure as a paparazzi.
I am more fit to take pictures of things that move in a more patient and deliberate manner, like these subjects below. On this day the water was very clear and there was a good sun. On the littoral there was a swath of pebbles of a good size and varied color and as they were regularly being washed by gentle waves their colors were being brought out by the glaze of the wetness. I just walked up and down the beach like a shorebird, bent over and looking for little bits of edible shorebird repast, but in my case it was some out of the ordinarily colored stones. And this was the resulting little eye-feast.