Baltimore: Colors of Spring

As my residency years come to a close, Jane and I have been getting back into shape in preparation for the Baltimore Running Festival later this year. We’ve been spending more time out and about the city than in any year prior, and I can say with a fair bit of confidence that there is no lovelier place to be pounding the spring pavement and racking up miles than our home neighborhood in East Baltimore.

Much like the fall, spring here in Maryland is a gradual affair. First, the bleak winds and icy nights of February give way to a mild chill that dissipates by mid-day. In early March, the year’s first colors re-appear where they left off in November - the vicious, crimson hooks of the red maples, which line many streets in Butchers Hill. All through the month, buds begin to appear on branches at eye level, and delicate, pale petals begin to open as the days grow longer and warmer. The hardiest flowers - those of the weeds, shrubs, and perennials that sprout from every untended patch of green space or city sidewalk - are the first to bloom, and they persist throughout the season. Clusters of cerulean-blue speedwells, purple henbits, and pearlescent nettles rise in sprawling carpets across Patterson Park, interrupting many a morning jog - one simply has to stop and stare. Late March and April bring a parade of beautiful flowering trees: first, the deep pink petals of the Okame cherry; next, the generous flowers of the Akebono cherry and the twin magnolias on Pagoda Hill; then, the crisp, classic Yoshino cherry blossoms, accompanied by a flood of white petals on black cherry trees throughout Fells Point; and finally, the laden bouquets of the Kanzan cherry trees, and the conspicuous magenta flowers of the eastern redbuds, whose flaming branches line the avenue outside of our apartment.

As the season progresses and the sunsets fall later and later, the flowers disappear, and the trees begin to leaf out - first the cherries and maples along the city sidewalks, followed by the lindens and great oaks in the park. Before long, the grey skies and bare russet tones of winter are a distant memory. The landscape is lush, the days are long, and another sultry season of life, warmth, and growth is upon us.

Baltimore: In Time of Frost

Cold winter weather is uncommon here in the Mid-Atlantic. From my four years in Connecticut, I remember snow and ice perpetually lining the sidewalks from the holidays until the end of February, and snowdrifts piled several feet high after each perfunctory blizzard. Here in Baltimore, snowstorms are rare, and they seem to be getting rarer over the past seven years. We’re lucky if our snow accumulates, and the deep freeze is but a brief annual event - a biting frost that plunges out of the northern skies for a few days before giving way to the cool crisp air of the region, which verges on memories of early spring.

This year, I was fortunate again to be off hospital duty during one of the season’s two snowfalls - a quick afternoon storm that poured a few inches onto the waterways of the Chesapeake basin. The photos here were taken on two separate outings - one morning in the pine groves on the north shore of Liberty Reservoir, and another along the lower mainstem of the Gunpowder River, at the county line. They represent both the challenging shooting conditions (numb fingers, slippery surfaces, and rapidly draining lithium batteries) and the deep satisfaction (beautiful natural patterns and dramatic, slow sunrises) that are attendant to winter landscape photography.

Chesapeake: Bombay Hook & Rock Hall, Revisited

Another year, another off-season visit to Delaware and the Eastern Shore of Maryland. For a much-needed weekend getaway, we return to the Inn at Osprey Point, whose third-floor, round-windowed Shamrock room has been a favorite of Jane’s ever since we first stayed there in December 2016. We leave Baltimore in the dark, heading north on the I-95 before circling south along the Delaware Bay; we arrive at Bombay Hook National Refuge around sunrise for a fine morning of bird-watching. The refuge ponds are filled with tundra swans and all kinds of ducks - pintails, buffleheads, and green-winged teals - along with dowitchers and sandpipers wading along the marsh edge, and the occasional bald eagle roosting above in the trees. Offshore in the tidal wetlands, a gargatuan flock of snow geese is encamped in the mouth of the estuary. Once in awhile they startle - probably on account of a passing propeller plane or a raptor’s shadow - and the entire group takes to the skies in a mass of beating wings, undulating and iridescent under the morning sun. I take some landscape shots from the road, but make a note to return another day with a proper kit for wildlife photography: telephoto lens and big-boy camera body.

Around mid-morning, we depart the coast and the refuge. Jane naps in the passenger seat as we drive west to the other end of the Delmarva Peninsula, passing through marshes, cornfields, and small towns on our way to the fishing village of Rock Hall beyond the Chester River.  In town, we park in the same small gravel lot (and, in fact, the same parking spot) where we stopped 2 years earlier, and browse the only open shop - a clothing and gifts store called Hickory on a Stick - before grabbing drinks and brunch at the Java Rock Café. Jane orders a latte and a toasted onion bialy with cream cheese, while I have a ham, swiss, and egg croissant with a piña colada smoothie. Afterward, we check in at Osprey Point and settle in upstairs for a mid-day nap - again, seemingly the only guests in the entire house.

In the afternoon, we drive south out of town to the wildlife refuge on Eastern Neck Island, where we take a brief walk (1 mile round-trip) through loblolly pine forest to Boxes Point, which overlooks the main channel of the Chester River where it meets the Chesapeake. On way out to the road, we pick up a beautiful, spiral-carven walking stick left leaning at the gate. Just south of that trailhead, we stroll down the boardwalk to the picturesque stand of loblollies at Tubby Cove, which quickly became one of my favorite photographic locations in the state after our visit in 2016.  There on the observation deck, I take some portraits of Jane and I together, as well as some images of sunset over the marsh, its waves of saltgrass shimmering in the fading light. Heading back to Rock Hall, we eat dinner in the restaurant below our room at the inn - fried oysters with garlic-lemon aioli to share, crab-crusted grilled scallops for Jane, and a sirloin steak and crabcake for me. The day ends with a TV marathon (we watch the entirety of Titanic in about 5 hours), chocolates, and tea and coffee from the Keurig machine outside of our room. We sleep in the next morning, and return to Baltimore after breakfast.