Sherie Dowsett: Wildlife Illustrations

 

 

 

 

The Natural World and Art

 

Some things just evolve without much planning. Emily and I tend to go to Ogunquit, Maine, after the tourists have cleared out and before things close down for the season. For the last three years we’ve joined two good friends who stay up the road in Wells around the same time, which adds to the pleasure. We do the things we might have done in high season at a third of the price: alternating walks on the Marginal Way and the beach, going out for seafood, and gabbing ourselves silly. If we time it right, we get to grab scones at the Backyard Café before it shutters for the season.

 

This year our friends were staying in a rental that backed up to the marshes in Wells, where we took in the dying light of late summer shimmering on the open water of the marsh. But whatever else we do, it has become a habit of making a short drive to the Wells Estuarine Research Reserve, where we walk paths through old farmland and woodlands. It’s strictly a non-taxing walk that takes us past several marsh ponds, though a mossy stone arch that leads to a few oceanfront summer homes, and onto a rocky beach–is there any other kind in Maine–and places where one could actually wade. By late September/early October, the water is as warm as it will be all year. Of course, it being Maine, that only means it takes slightly longer for feet and ankles to turn blue.

 

The Reserve is on the grounds of what used to be the Laudholm Farm. We tend to take a planked path through a wetland and wend our way back to a complex of buttermilk yellow buildings now used for environmental education, summer camps, workshops, and such ilk. In the fall, though, it’s quiet and a great place to have a picnic. There is also the Coastal Ecology Center Gallery that displays art inspired by nature. It’s small and shares space with a tank of (what else?) lobsters. A dozen or so paintings adorn a few walls and the vibe is utterly non-pretentious.

 

This year’s find was the work of Sherie Dowsett, a once-celebrated nature photography who turned to watercolor painting. She was born in England, but is an intentional New Englander who (I believe) now lives in nearby New Hampshire, as her paintings are available at the Kennedy Gallery in Portsmouth, NH. She paints a moose and a bear here and there, but mostly she shows her affinity for smaller animals, particularly birds, cats, and rabbits, all one-of-a-kind originals. The water colors below are on heavy pebbled paper (rag?), not the easiest of medium to control. In keeping with the laid-back feel of the weekend, I was totally charmed by the ones in these iPhone shots. I cropped them and took out spots on the paper left by the gallery lights, but nothing else was done. Next trip to Portsmouth I hope to see more of Dowsett’s work.

 

  

I’m not saying which of these is my favorite, but I’d love to hear which one grabs you the most.

 

Rob Weir 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                 

Peter May (R.I.P.) Novel: A Winter Grave

 

 

 

 

 

A WINTER GRAVE (2023)

By Peter May

Riverrun, 358 pages.

★★★★

 

Thomas Friedman argued that global trade, technology, and advances in communications were making the world “flat.” Yet, communication today is often slower than when news from abroad arrived via teletype machines. It was just this morning that I learned that Scottish author Peter May died at the end of September.

 

May is/was one of my favorite thriller/mystery writers, in part because of his ability to capture places and spin them into characters in their own right. I adored his Lewis Trilogy and have read several of his Enzo Files and his stand-alone works. I thought of  Enzo MacLeod (half-Scottish half-Italian) as May’s alter-ego in that he, like May, left Scotland for the sunny south of France. You can get May’s novels in North America, but few bookstores or libraries have his full run of 30+ books. Whenever I’m in Britain, I buy one or two. A Winter Grave was this year’s discovery.

 

May thought a lot about what climate change could bring. The narrative is set in 2051, and climate change is well underway. Much of the east coast of Britain is underwater, as is half of London and a lot of Scotland. Despite misconceptions of so-called “global warming,” it could lead to another Ice Age with colder temperatures and bigger snowfalls in some places as moisture pulled from the earth cycles back as precipitation. In 2051, many Glasgow “streets” are underwater and the Clyde River is more akin to a giant loch. Few individuals own cars, as the age of driverless public transport (trains, small boats, taxis) had arrived.

 

Cameron Brodie is a police inspector in Glasgow, but he’s not so keen on following rules and always seems one incident away from being dismissed. “Cam” doesn’t care, as he has learned that he is dying. He is divorced/widowed and we learn how he once answered a domestic abuse call, fell for the victim Melanie (“Mel”), stole her away when her abuser Lee Jardine was in jail, and beat the haggis out of Jardine when he got out. Mel, however, had a fatal attraction to Jardine and left Cam to raise their daughter Adele (“Addie”) on his own. Nonetheless, he never bad-mouthed Mel, and Addie blamed Cam for her mother’s death. She left Glasgow, and cut ties with her father.  

 

Cam also burnt out, and angry when he nails a murderer only to see him released when his lawyer uses a deep fake AI video to “prove” police abuse and false arrest. Only Cam’s good friends, “Tiny” Sinclair and his wife keep Cam on the level. Cam’s love for mountaineering and technical climbing in the Mamores Ridge in the Western Highlands also cool his rage and guilt. He’s not afraid of death, but he does fret over whether he has been a decent person or a jerk.

 

As fate would have it, Cam is ordered investigate the death of a missing journalist, Charles Younger, whose body was found frozen in the Mamores. Much to his chagrin, he is picked up by an eVToL (Electric Vertical Take-off and Land) craft, a pilotless helicopter whose flight path coordinates and landing area are commanded by “Eve,” a computer voice capable of answering questions. All Cam needs to do is plug it in to recharge it when he lands. Along the way Cam picks up Sita Roy, a pathologist. Neither the computer nor the tight-lipped Dr. Roy are much solace in a horrendous snowstorm, battering winds, and the warning that their aircraft is losing power. Luckily, they survive a hair-raising landing outside a Kinlockleven hotel. Unluckily, Kinlochleven is also the wee village in which Addie lives and she’s the one who found Younger. Her husband, Robbie Sinclair, is friendly, but Addie wants nothing to do with Cam; he literally has to order her to cooperate.

 

Nothing much goes right in Kinlochleven. The hotel is empty; owner Mike Brannan advises the weather has led to mass cancellations. Scrounging up food and drink isn’t easy in a village of just 700 people, most of whom are local workers at a tunnel project near the Blackwater dam and reservoir. Someone has cut Eve’s cable, Addie’s eyes fire daggers at Cam, another murder occurs, and the body disappears from the hotel’s freezer! As Cam gets closer to the truth, he discovers that very powerful forces wish to add him to the now-vacant freezer.

 

There is much more to discover in this heart-thumper thriller, not to mention relationships to break and repair. My only quibble is the illogic of Cam continuing to entrust Brannan with tasks when he’s clearly either incompetent or involved. Loved the book; R.I.P Peter May.

 

Rob Weir