Thursday, August 30, 2007

Photographer's Log Photographer's Log


The milkweed pod season is upon us. Soon, if not already in some places, these nondescript little pods will begin bursting with the chill night’s air, spilling out their glorious contents for all to see. Clouds of silk-covered seeds cling to stems waiting to be released with strong gusts of wind.

When I was a little girl, impatiently prying open milkweed pods with strong little fingers, I used to call each silk-tufted seed a “little man”. “Look Mommy! There are millions of little men inside this pod!” Then I would spend the next minute tearing the hardy, hair-like bundle of white from inside its sometimes yet unripe pod, holding it by the seeds and rubbing the tightly packed white silk all around my face, like my daddy’s shaving brush, feeling the softness of the while silks. What a delicious sensation! I would continue this sensuous brushing of my face now and then until the tight bundle of seeds would eventually crumble apart. Peeling the rest apart I would then blow them off my little palm, crying, “fly, little men, fly!” as they took off into the breeze.

How warm would be the days of those walks with my mother, rich with the sounds of “sewing needles”, the smells of deep grasses and growing apples. So very deep into the country we were, wandering the roadsides and trails of my parent’s ancient farm property. Lining the roads and trails would be hundreds of milkweed pods, spilling out their frothy contents. Some seeds would even pass by us on the tiniest of hot breezes, gently floating, almost seeming to defy gravity. Each “little man’s parachute” (as I’d dubbed the white silk) glistening in the near-autumn sunlight. I can still feel my mother’s sure, firm touch upon my back and shoulders, or clasping my tiny hand in her larger, work-worn one, as she occasionally would help guide me over rougher terrain on the pathways. I can still hear her deep, sing-song voice as she’d croon some tune that would come into her head as we ambled through fields and forests on land yet seemingly untouched by the grimy, oily layer of man-caused dirt that now seems to cover everything-- even that which was once deep away from civilization during my childhood.

I hope you enjoy this artwork. I tried to capture the golden morning light filtering through the silks of the seeds and highlighting the delicately tough pods. Sometimes turning my art into “paintings” more accurately represents not only the vision of what I’ve photographed but the feeling of it too. -June Mohan
Photos: (Copyright Mohan 2007) To contact the artist, please send email to:

Friday, August 24, 2007

Grand Opening of the Eagle Bridge Inn Grand Opening of the Eagle Bridge Inn

Tuesday, August 14, 2007

Photographer's Log Photographer's Log

A Patch of Blue
My pictures are out of sequence for the season lately, but who wants to be predictable, anyway?

Last spring I heard birds calling from the crab apple tree outside my office window. When I looked out I saw the most amazingly brilliant patch of blue amongst the pink and white apple blossoms. As I hungrily watched to finally be able to see what creature God had made so beautifully blue it flitted around and about within the sanctuary of the thickly covered branches for many minutes. Finally, it came to an outside branch, resting from it’s feeding on the delicious apple buds.

This little bird was so beautiful it took my breath away. Delicate and perfect, it seemed to be showing itself off to me as I took one photograph after another. Not seeming to be afraid of me or my clicking shutter it stayed mostly on the outer branches of the tree as it ate.

It was suddenly joined by three more of it’s kind and I spent the next 15 minutes engrossed in photographing them all. They kept showing up nearly every morning for a week or so and then, to my sorrow, seemed to have completely disappeared..
I don’t know what kind of bird this is. Some have told me Indigo Blue Bunting, others have mentioned Blue Bird. I always thought the little blue birds with the rosey chests were blue birds, but I may be mistaken.

If anyone knows what species this bird is please let me know either in the comments section of this article or by email. Please put “A Patch Of Blue” in the subject line so I won’t accidentally delete it thinking it is junk mail. -June Mohan
Photos: (Copyright Mohan 2006) To contact the artist, please send email to:

Wednesday, August 08, 2007

Cambridge Life on 8/11/07 Cambridge Life on 8/11/07

Every year I make an attempt at a vegetable garden. What usually happens is that I loose most of my plants and vow to never try and do veggies again. Of course, as I get older, I forget things. So in June I found myself at Happenchance Farm buying tomato plants, lettuce and basil. But this year has been different.

Instead of planting in beds, I decided to do all my plants in pots and window boxes. The thinking was they'd be close to to house so I'd remember to water and the rabbits would not want to come so near my cats' domain. Well, let me tell you!

Photos by Debra Pearlman)

Here is my porch and I have a bumper crop of golden cherry tomatoes. In fact, the plants are so large they have overtaken my porch, my back steps, and are encroaching on the door to my barn.

Photos by Debra Pearlman)

Am I complaining, No way! I'm feasting on sweet tomatoes with fresh basil every night and have even passed along some lettuce to friends.

Life in Cambridge, NY is bountiful!

Thursday, August 02, 2007

Cambridge Life 8/2/07 Cambridge Life 8/2/07

Well, the dog daze are upon us! As the temperature heats up, I'll be looking for ways to keep cool. Daryl and Mary have given me an open invitation to use their pool, John and KT and I are perfecting our afternoon cocktails (heavy on the frozen), and my AC is working fine.

One way to keep cool is to go to the movies. I went to see "Sunshine,"a new SciFi film, this past weekend. Highly recommend by my SciFi loving nephew, I found this film a bit slow and confusing to watch. This might be one for the guys, as my brother-in-law also loved the film.

Tonight is the annual Lake Lauderdale floating of lights for peace. I participated in a similar ceremony when I was in Thailand. We floated lights down the Mekong River and out into the Gulf of Siam. Having grown-up during the Viet Nam era, that was an extremely significant experience. I haven't been to the Lake Lauderdale ceremony before and I'm really looking forward to it. Come join us there.

It may be hazy, hot, and humid right now, but the good thing about Life in Cambridge, NY is that this sort of weather passes in a day or two, the nights are always cool for sleeping, and if it's too hot to sleep you can go outside and actually see the metor showers.