Growing up in and exploring New England has illustrated in my mind with the most striking portraits of every season. The contrasts are obvious and only the most sleepy, unawakend eye would ever miss them. People who have never spent any time in the region are often surprised that summer is fully alive, real, warm and inviting. I remember exploring Waterville Valley in New Hampshire as a boy of seven. The valley was the greenest green I have ever seen. All of the trees were fully developed and looked as if they were perfectly placed exactly where they were supposed to be. The clouds that hung over the mountains looked like silky curtains waiting to be opened by a cosmic hand. Then they would disappear and sun would flood the valley and the river would run swollen and loud for a time. Then there was the feild of wildflowers like colored little dots as far as the eye can see. 

The ocean was also an emblem of seasonal change and illistration. I enjoyed being near and seeing the ocean during all seasons. I remember being on Block Island around the age of twelve watching the fishermen on the shore catching striped bass while the sea spray crashed off the rocks. In winter I would stand on the pier in Naragansett and look out over the ocean, freezing wind coming off the water. I thought about the summer and how crowded the beach would be when the wind became warmer and more inviting. By that time the houses across the street would have window boxes full of summer flowers, summer flowers are the best, prettiest flowers, perfect for taking pictures and for viewing and remebering. 

I recently went back to New England and once again drank in all the summer has to offer. Sitting in my parents house and looking out various windows and glass doors. The yard was in full bloom and visually inviting. My mother took great care in cultivating various areas of her yard and the results are a perfect example of how summer, full blown summer in New England is the pinnacle of a natural portrait. I am very familiar with the planted spaces of that yard. I have seen all of them in every season. I have seen them covered in snow and seen the trees painted in orange, red, gold and yellow. I have seen the flower bed in Spring taking its first tentative steps to summer. All of these scenes are beautiful and meaningful, but there is no comparison to their appearance in the summer, tall, strong , bright and approaching perfection. Standing to be admired and then contrasted against memories of approaching fall and winter. 

Summer flowers,

illustration of the creative powers.

Returning visitors,

adorning various perimeters.

Seasonal greeting,

a visually pleasant meeting.

Summer flowers,

some growing into natural, colored towers.

Carefully shared decorations,

a beautiful aesthetic celebration. 

A mountain meadow,

waving and swaying in an orchestrated libretto.

Summer flowers. 

T.S.Deary