Yesterday’s bike ride seemed as though it would be a bust. The air was so heavy and humid that my chest felt constricted. And then there was the heat, which could only be called oppressive.
“Let’s go on a short ride,” I said, and Clif concurred.
We were both disappointed as we are trying to build strength to go on longer rides. But neither of us had the stamina to tackle hills in the face of such heat and humidity.
“No matter,” Clif said. “There will be other days.”
On our rides, I almost always bring my camera. (One of the benefits of having a small camera is that it can be tucked into a bike bag.) Much of our ride goes by Maranacook Lake, and you never know what you are going to see: Herons, loons, ducks, geese.
And turtles. We were almost back to the parking lot when I spotted this turtle, resting on a rock. This is a painted turtle, I think, but if anyone knows otherwise, don’t be afraid to comment.
What dreams go through the turtle’s head, I wonder? Dark water, food, finding a mate, avoiding danger? The lives of wild animals are often hard, yet there are moments of relative peace, as this resting turtle shows.
For this human, yesterday’s bike ride was a good lesson—even on a short excursion there is plenty to notice.
As regular readers of this blog know, I have put together a slide show—Threads of Realism in Fantasy—to go with my YA novel, Maya and the Book of Everything. (I recently gave my first presentation at the University of Maine at Orono.)The gist of the presentation is this: Even though my book is a fantasy that takes its heroine, Maya, across the universe, there are elements of realism to ground the novel. The story is partially set in central Maine, and I weave my Franco-American heritage into the book.
Central to Maya and the Book of Everything is a place called the Great Library. It is home to the sentient Book of Everything, which can travel through time and space. Both the Book of Everything and the Great Library definitely fall into one of my favorite categories—fantasy, fairy tales, and folderol. But even here I used realism when I imagined what the Great Library would look like.
Because I love fairy tales so much, I immediately thought of a castle in envisioning the Great Library, and I ended up picking out two castles—one for the locale and one for the actual look. Both castles are from France. I didn’t set out to choose castles from France, but somehow I did. It must have been my Franco-American roots urging me forward.
The first castle I thought of was Mont St. Michel, which certainly looks like it comes straight from a fairy tale. I love how remote it looks and how the castle is surrounded by water when the tide is in. Mont St. Michel also happens to be in Normandy, where some of my ancestors are from.
Here is another view of Mont St. Michel.
So that was the locale I wanted.
But for the actual look of the Great Library, I wanted something more compact, something that looked a little less Gothic, a little less like a cathedral.
For this I chose the Chateau de Chaumont, which is in France’s Loire Valley.
One of the things I especially like about fantasy is that you can mix and match various aspects of realism if you want and still have a magical story. Maine, my Franco-American heritage, and two castles from France all come together in Maya and the Book of Everything.
Today, the temperature made it all the way to twenty degrees, and it was time for a walk in the woods. Somehow, I especially enjoy taking pictures of small things, and I came across this lichen,
and deer tracks.
Lately, there have been strong, cold winds, and the woods was littered with twigs, branches, and other things that had fallen from the trees. Somehow, though, tree litter doesn’t look as bad as human litter.
We made our way to the water’s edge, where I had to stop Liam from going down the bank. It’s only been very cold for a short time, and I didn’t want my dog buddy taking an expected dip in the Upper Narrows.
After looking at the water for a while, we went back up the hill that was stamped with snow shoe tracks, dog prints, deer prints, and, of course, my own boot prints. By the time we got home, my face was cold, and I was ready for a cup of tea, but it certainly felt good to be outside in the winter woods.
I’ve decided to add a new category—A Closer Look—to this blog. Sometimes it will be close-up shots of food. Other times, it will be of nature or of everyday things around the house. As I noted in a previous post, too often I have the tendency to rush through my days and not take the time to look closely at what is around me. While it is good to get things done, too much rushing and not enough looking leads to a much poorer life. I have vowed to look more closely.
This is a photo of moss I removed from my garden and set on the glass table on the patio.
We tend to see moss as “green,” and green it certainly is. But look at the different shades of green, bright and dark, and look at the little balls on the stems. This could be the landscape of a fantastical world.
Look, look, look.