Musee du Quai Branly

The Photography of Edward S. Curtis

Edward Curtis was one of the most famous photographers of his time. He recognized that Native American Indian tribes were vanishing and that their traditions were in danger of being lost. He spent years documenting the Native American tribes in the Western United States and produced an amazingly prolific body of work that remains influential in our understanding of Native Americans. These photographs are extraordinary.

Shimmertime

The winter storm this weekend was quite serious and brought down a couple of trees around the house. The town of Inlet, which is about three miles from Penwood, is now in a state of emergency, as they have been without power for a few days now. Hopefully everything will be up and running very soon.

Turning to warmer thoughts ... It was Mark's mother who coined the term "shimmertime", which refers that time of day in the late afternoon when the lowering sun casts a shimmer on the lake. Its position, duration, color and intensity are never the same any two days, and so I've come to believe that shimmertime is one of those marvels of alchemy that make the Adirondacks so special and unpredictable. Since both houses at Penwood favor the West, both experience a magical play of reflected light during this time of day. At Nina's Camp, our entire living room is completely enveloped in a shimmer that slowly marches from one side of the room to the other over a period of hours. Like our Chris Craft, shimmertime also experiences a kind of hibernation as the lake freezes.

Bitter, except when it's sweet

By now, the leaves have fallen, and the first snowfall of Winter has begun. The Adirondacks take a pause for a few weeks during this time of year, when boat engines fall silent and snowmobile engines have yet to make themselves heard. Summer homes are shut for the season. The town dam has been fully opened to lower the water level of the lake in advance of Winter, and each weekend brings newly uncovered parts of the lake bottom. Even after all these years, we still find trash and debris from the early 1900s on the shallow areas of the lake-bed. Old porcelain shards, cobalt bottles and strange metal pieces rusted beyond recognition. A deep silence settles in the Adirondacks, as we wait for the lake to freeze and the snow to reach a depth appropriate for snowshoes and skis.

The picture above was taken during Columbus Day weekend, when we took the Chris Craft out for its last tour of 2006. Now, it's out of the water and has begun its annual hibernation. The Chris Craft that belongs to Penwood is a 1953 runabout purchased by Mark's grandfather, and it has faithfully given Mark's family 53 summers of pleasure. In April, when the ice begins to crack and recede and the first stirrings of nature are in evidence, my attention often turns to the Chris Craft, as I begin to anticipate its debut in the new summer season.

Living in the moment

Among the greatest gifts of the Adirondacks are those moments that are as beautiful as they are unexpected. I've found that many of these occur during autumn evenings, a time when summer gloaming slowly transforms into a time so golden and fleeting that I find myself ill-equipped to capture it. This photo is of a vase and gladiolas, taken on our dining table at Nina's Camp at precisely one of those moments. (In case you're wondering, this image hasn't been photoshopped at all.)