Sunday, July 27, 2014

Beyond the Beach Part II




It was impossible to get all my photos in one post so I am continuing the journey in Part II.  I hope you are still with me as I wander a bit more in the Lake Michigan town of Pentwater.







Sailing through the channel on a summer day.


A garden gate on a house that faces the channel.

The flowers hanging on the porch of this old house pick up the bright colors the owners decided to paint what looks to be an old Victorian.    



The remnants of an 
old boat house














































Beyond the Beach




It struck me as a beautiful scene for a photo that would show the texture of the brick.  The pink hollyhocks blooming in a corner on the back side of Silver Hills Antiques in Pentwater set my mind in motion. If there was this beautiful vignette right off of main street and away from the beach, what else could I find in this small Lake Michigan town?  


What I found was only a fraction of what there must be to photograph. There are small and large houses, each with their own ambience and style.  Those that exist along the channel are big homes with lovely flower gardens.  Those that are older I envision as being there since the 1800’s.  The closeness of the older houses to one another gives a feeling of protection against a gale coming off the big lake.


Flowers are a big part of the scenery and they often grow willy nilly in unexpected spots, like around a life saving ring near the channel.  I walked and found doors that seemed welcoming and signs of old weathered wood.


Further out from the village on Pentwater Lake I stopped when I saw an old boat house that had seen better days. Yet it was the old wood that I found beautiful and the oar attached was the perfect touch.    

Take a journey with me to these unexpected places beyond the beach and think about all the little spots that are right in our own back yards that can give pleasure if we just stop to look.



A burst of color under the eaves just seems unexpected.  
A pop of color gives the eye a sense of delight.
Bikes on a side street ready to rent...

Some people know how to accent their door....a happy look.



I have photographed this house several times over the years.  The  yellow siding plus the forest green front door gives me a feeling of coziness. I would love to be invited inside.
   
The whimsical look of Queen Anne's Lace coming through a life saving ring and a funny sign in a garden.



                   













Sunday, July 13, 2014

Trials of Twelve

Twelve isn’t an age for the faint hearted. Having a grandson and a granddaughter that age around the house this week took me back  to a time long long ago when I was their age.  I was  twelve when I attended 4-H camp at Stony Lake.  My mother saw that I was developing and bought my first bras to wear at camp.  


The girls at camp slept in a big open room with bunk beds and we had to dress and undress in front of each other.  I wasn’t used to a bra and how it felt.  I so wanted my cotton t-shirt with the little ribbon at the neckline.  I tried to get into my shortie pajamas at night and dressed in the morning as privately as I could.  I was uncomfortable with the young woman I was becoming and missing the little girl who was slipping away.


Twelve is awkward.  Twelve is uncertain.  Twelve is the last step of childhood which some kids aren’t ready to leave behind.  For girls, twelve is discovering changes to mind and body and discovering that boys can be both interesting and intolerable.  


Seventh grade was an uncomfortable year for me.  There was only one class of 7th graders at my school and we must have gotten out of hand daily because Mr. Thomas, one of our teachers who later became the principal, on a regular basis gave us a lecture on citizenship and being good people.  


I spent 7th grade and age twelve with crooked teeth, knowing that the braces I was soon to get would only make me uglier.  I was conscious of the clothes I was wearing and wished I had more than what hung in my closet.  


I read an article this past year that said childhood nowadays ends closer to ten than twelve.  I watched my grandson Jay with his cousin Adrianna this week.  They were born a day apart in May of 2002.  They like to discuss their world of school and friends, but I noticed they weren’t as chatty with each other as they have been in the past.


On the 4th of July they were playing a game in the yard and got in a tiff over how the game should be played.  Jay got sharp with Adrianna and she sat at a distance and cried.  I took her for a little ride in our golf cart and she told me how Jay had hurt her feelings.  Forgiveness comes easily though and later when they were sitting together for a picture, Adrianna leaned over and gave Jay a kiss on the cheek.  


The look on his face was captured in a photo I took and tells me what it is like to be a boy of twelve.  Yet the simple time of childhood is past for both Jay and Adrianna.  The days when they played together for hours is gone. Their relationship is changing and even though they chased each other around the yard the last night they could be together, next summer at age thirteen I'm sure things will be different yet. Then there will come a time when Adrianna doesn't come to spend a week at Grandpa and Grandma's.

After Adrianna and Bella left to go home to Novi, Jay came back in the house with me and said, “I didn’t know I would feel so bad when they left.  I’m probably going sit in my room and think about how fast the week went.”  I remember so vividly in my teen years sitting for hours in my room contemplating the world. How does time go so quickly?


Jay's look after Adrianna kissed him on the cheek.  




Adrianna at twelve


Jay at twelve