We live in the hills and look out on more hills. When the light is just right, a shimmering sliver of water is illuminated on the far edge of our view, letting us know that the ocean is not far away. We decided recently to take a short road trip to the ocean at Pemaquid Point. It lies south of us, on one of a series of irregular peninsulas, formed by glaciers, and extending into the Atlantic between Rockland and Bath. 
At Pemaquid, the land ends with a series of striated ledges extending into the water. 
A small lighthouse and bellhouse perch above. 
A woman was swept into the sea from these rocks the week before our visit. 
It was during a swell arising from the storm that dumped snow on most of the east coast, but swerved out to sea below Maine. The swell produced some towering waves and one of them took the woman right in. 
Fortunately, she was fished out with some injuries and hypothermia, but alive. 
Although the sea was less lively during our visit, I stayed high on the rocks. Where I stood, when I looked inland, the sky was brilliantly blue 
and, when I turned to the water, there was a bank of shore clouds in beautiful, almost tubular row formations. 
Unfortunately, my picture-taking was cut short when I found my extra battery was dead. We’ll be back. 
Soon after our Pemaquid trip, a flock of Bohemian Waxwings invaded. They have been here off-and-on for over a week. They fly in over the valley and first settle on one of the larger trees, all facing in the same direction. 
After some time, with a great swoosh of wings, they all descend on a tree still covered with apples, where they noisily gorge on the likely fermented fruit and then wheel off again. 
Their post-feeding frenzy flights appear somewhat haphazard. Perhaps they are a little drunk. 
But they settle on a large tree again, compose themselves, and fly away in a neat formation again. 
At first I thought they were cedar waxwings and there may be a few in the flock. But most seem to be Bohemians. 
This distance shot is blown up, with poor resolution, but you can see the beautiful wing markings.
In any case, they are gorgeous birds and extremely entertaining.
Finally, inspired by bloggers in England, Ireland, and Australia, showing a lovely array of colorful February blooms, I thought I’d share our February garden. After unseasonably warm weather on Thursday, we were unexpectedly blanketed by almost 12″ of snow on Friday. 
As a result, our February garden consists of empty seed pods,
rocks in snow,
berries in snow, 
spruce in snow,
shriveled rosehips in snow,
a few baby cones,
and Zoe.
