Sorry for the delay in posting. I got tied up in regular life for a bit. Now to resume the travel sketches from Maine…
Everywhere we went in Bar Harbor and Acadia National Park there seemed to be these shrubs with little red thingys on them. I would say they look like itty-bitty tomatoes.
My dear wife enlightened me. They were Rose Hips.
“Why do they call them hips dear?”
“I don’t know. Maybe they look like hips.”
“Good answer dear. I have no idea what you mean by that.”
“Me neither.”
That was the limited discussion we had on the matter. Even so, I was somehow captivated by the little stinkers and decided to sketch them. These were at Thunder Hole, which is a place on the rocky coast where the waves crash into a large pocket in the rocks and create, well, a thunderous noise…I suppose. The tide was out and no thunder was being produced.
Even so, it seemed a place where shrubs of any type might not have an easy life.
With no thunder in the making, I began to observe the effort undertaken by the Park Service to produce the long concrete stairway, worked right into the rocky landscape, right down to the hole itself, complete with a nice viewing deck.
One would no doubt get drenched standing on that deck when thunder production is taking place.
The stairway had a very nice stainless steel railing all the way around it. Very expensive and not the first one, as sawn off rusty nubs of steel posts sat grouted in the rocks beside the existing railing. Evidence of previously failed design and installation.
I admired the effort because with the harsh environment of the salt water and air, even the stainless steel railing suffers from rust and broken welds. In other words, the whole thing was a real design challenge in the first place and remains a maintenance challenge even with the use of stainless steel. But the Park Service thought we citizens would enjoy the ability to get right down on top of such a natural experience and took up the challenge. A fine job they did and still do. You and I would not otherwise be able to safely view and experience first hand “the thunder”. It’s a good thing…and educational thing…and enlightening thing, to get that close to harsh, secret places in nature.
I suppose I should have sketched the stairway, considering all the effort that went into its creation.
But the Rose Hips…they set footing there at Thunder Hole without the aide of the Park Service. They were alive and stable in the same tough environment that the stainless steel was having trouble with. I wished to myself, as I studied them up close along the stair walk, that I was as tough as them. And yet still somehow able to be…rosy.
So I sketched them.