GRBarnett: Internal Winter Weather...

...remember you may click & click again on the photos to enlarge them...

My lifelong habit prefers to work in the studio during the long winter nights. This nocturnal mode sometimes allows me to see sunrise on my way to sleep...

Sunset seems always to follow too quickly, but can reward us on these short days, if the weather is clear enough to see Tahoma [the mountain most know as Mt Ranier] with the alpenglow reflecting raspberry colored light in our eastern view. The spine of the island prevents any direct view of sunset from our aspect...

The last full moon rose dramatically just as I was on the beach, fortunately with my camera, even as I'd thought about leaving it at home when I left at dusk for a quick walk. I'd not been paying attention to its cycle & was surprised to wonder at its unexpected light rising behind trees on the horizon...

Later I took the tripod out onto the Prow Deck to make some longer exposures as that orange orb climbed high enough to make a causeway of reflected light in cooler coloration...

So my internal weather is affected by that of the external... deep, creatively dark, lit dramatically... productive, even as I am also feeling less than "on top" of the schedule finishing one year's business & moving into the next, which speeds along. Now it is Imbolc, St Bridget's celebration, when diurnal time begins again to balance day & night.

There are additional stories, explaining somewhat more mundane matters of weather on the "read more" button below:

We've had a share of harsh weather, as seen here in the birdbath's water frozen quite solid...

Cracking into patterns of stress against the stone basin...

Some plants hold structure in the garden being fair corpses of their previously vibrant form...

While inside, the remainders of holiday decor linger as the carved wooden putto I bought in Venice hovers on a big brass candlestick I've had for years... above the small army of oil lamps which have lighted the holiday season, which we spent at home this year.

Our climate is already bringing early signs of the longer days, like the butter burr or pesticides, which later make the huge leaves which we love seeing spread around the neighborhood for its dramatic size. Its early blossoms seem tentative... curiously small in contrast. I see cautiously joyful promise toward spring!

The usually quite hardy Lacinata kale has survived nicely, but is not exactly thriving. I've been postponing much harvest of those delicious leaves... but I'm reconsidering day by brighter day!

One result of our wet weather is some predictable shifting along our cliff. We've had an unexpected slide & have been watching the progress of several long active movements on the clay slope we've been monitoring for years with concern & have recently acquired... so as to attempt mitigating ongoing loss of mass.

Now... I've explained before that I agree with the ecology of clay's nutrients supporting the eel grass, which is so important to the salmon fry, whose survival is essential. I figure we can now eat that food, which we love, with an easier conscience... for the ongoing donations of our real estate!

The 12 year old stone bulkhead is our salvation... relative to the slumping clay... but even its substance has been challenged by La Mama. Several stones had shifted last year so we needed a somewhat adventurous repair... requiring getting a large piece of equipment down onto the beach during a low enough tide, with sufficient daylight to rebuild the breech.

[Photo by Stephen Silha]

Soundcliff breathes easier in this long view from out on that low-tide beach. Bulkhead renewed, the house perches bravely. The structure we call the Prow Deck juts seeming cantilevered yet sits on retaining walls holding an earlier slide. We live on a delicious edge!