Category Archives: Photography

Words and Photos: Welcome Home

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Best known as a breath-taking winter destination for skiers, Vermont is also beautiful during the summer.  While enjoying a relaxing June weekend in the Green Mountain state, the scenic view of this  gracious and comfortable farmhouse caught my eye.

Welcome Home

Photo by L. LeVasseur, 1991.gfgt

Photo by L. LeVasseur, 1991

The white, clapboard house stands patiently waiting.  From its stone foundation, the hills and meadows of the New England countryside unfold like a verdant patchwork quilt.  Golden sunlight streams through its sparkling windows, filling the rooms with a mellow glow.  The farmhouse is empty now, but earlier in the day the parlor, kitchen and stairway had echoed with the kind-hearted industry of several aunts and cousins as they made preparations for the newlyweds, who are due to arrive at any moment.

As the sun dips below the horizon and the stars slowly appear above in the deepening lavender twilight, the house is silhouetted against the stark beauty of the mountains, a beacon to the young couple.  A shining black “Tin Lizzie” rattles down the lane and stops in the yard.  An elegantly dressed man extracts himself from the driver’s seat. He runs around to the passenger side of the open motor car.  Doffing his top hat, he extends a hand to his bride.  She places her hand in his and alights from the vehicle. The diaphanous folds of her white gown flutter in the evening breeze.  Arm-in-arm they climb the steps of the wide front porch.  The groom slips a key from his vest pocket and opens the front door.  As they step inside, the house welcomes them content in the knowledge that now it has become a home.

Words and Photos: The Bake Shop

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When I finished my master’s degree in Library Science, I took myself on a congratulatory trip to Quebec City, where I spent a long weekend exploring the historic walled city and snapping photos.  While wandering down a cobbled street, this wooden rabbit caught my eye and inspired a romantic and winsome photo essay.

Photo by L.A. LeVasseur, 1998

Photo by L.A. LeVasseur, 1998

At exactly 5:00, the bells in the church tower rang and the young man rounded the corner onto the Rue Saint-Paul.  He had left his office earlier than usual despite his secretary’s questions about that evening’s conference call.  Above him on the cliff overlooking the Saint Lawrence River, the roof of the Chateau Frontenac shone in the late afternoon sun.  Momentarily distracted by the iconic view of the famous hotel, he halted, but then set out again, quickening his pace.  He had to reach the bake shop before she closed for the day.

Moments later, he reached his destination and stood beneath  her open window.  Dainty lace curtains fluttered in the summer breeze.  He stooped, hands on his knees, trying to compose himself as he breathed in the warm scent of cinnamon.  The wooden rabbit she kept on the sill stood guard over a wicker basket that was probably filled with hot, fresh doughnuts or perhaps chocolate cookies.  He took off his aviator sunglasses and smiled at the toy sentry, which seemed to beckon him inside.

As he straightened and adjusted his suit coat and tie, she appeared in the mauve-framed window.  Her honey-colored curls were pulled back from her freckled face and her nose was smudged with flour.  She wore a cheerful yellow apron over a sleeveless floral dress.  Her arms were tanned and toned.  Reaching for the basket, she glanced down into the street and her bright blue eyes met his.

Mesmerized, she gazed into his hopeful grey eyes and slowly smiled.  There he was again!  Carefully, she stepped back and closed the window, still watching him.  She placed the basket on one of the round, cafe tables scattered across the hardwood floor and turned to the door.  Today, he would finally step inside and into her life.

Bermuda: Top Five

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Just a ninety-minute flight from Boston in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean lies one of my favorite travel destinations.  I have visited the beautiful Bermuda islands several times, going there for the first time on a family vacation in 1990.  Riding around on a moped with my sister and my parents, I was enchanted by the pink sand beaches, breathtaking views and British charm.   Twelve years later, I introduced my husband to Bermuda on our honeymoon and we have returned there twice since then, collecting more lasting impressions and happy memories.  If you plan a Bermuda vacation, don’t miss the following highlights:

Photo by L. Walkins, 2012The Reefs:  I first stayed at The Reefs in 1990 with my parents.  It is an award-winning elegant resort hotel on South Shore Road in Southampton.  The rooms are comfortable, the service is excellent and the food is extraordinary.  Dining each evening at Ocean Echo or at the more casual Coconuts is a memorable culinary experience.  Everyone on the staff, from the general manager to the bartender, makes sure that all the guests feel “perfectly at ease” during their stay.

Reefs Balcony

One of the reasons my husband and I love staying at The Reefs is because of its super location.  With a bus stop just steps away from the front door, we enjoy hopping on the big pink bus each morning to  travel from one end of Bermuda to the other.  We also love the ocean views afforded from nearly every room.  After an exciting day of sightseeing, we look forward to sitting on our balcony, listening to the ocean and watching the longtails fly out across the ocean in an aerial ballet.

Bermuda Aquarium, Museum and ZooAquarium/Zoo:  One of my favorite attractions, the Bermuda Zoological Society’s Aquarium, Museum and Zoo, is small, but fascinating.  I have been there several times.  Upon arriving, I always take a few minutes to sit on a bench in front of the floor-to-ceiling glass wall of the main aquarium tank.  Watching Peacockthe varied and colorful fish glide by while listening to classical music is both soothing and inspiring.  My husband and I each have our favorite animals in the zoo.  He looks for the zoo’s friendly and gregarious peacock that roams the grounds and I like observing the lemurs.

dolphinquest Dolphin Quest: On our last visit to Bermuda in 2012 to celebrate our tenth wedding anniversary, my husband and I decided to splurge on something special.  We made an appointment for a Dolphin Experience at the Dock Yard.  Dolphin Quest offers a variety of different programs.  We chose the 20-minute Discover Dolphins experience.  We met two dolphins, a mother and daughter named Ely and Marley.  We were able to feed the dolphins and pat them in an up close encounter.  The trainer taught us some of the hand signals the dolphins respond to as well (Dolphin Quest also offers a Trainer for a Day program.  Wouldn’t that be cool?)  We had such an awesome time meeting Ely and her daughter, Marley.  For the rest of the day, we could not stop smiling.

Swizzle InnSwizzle Inn:  A true landmark, the Swizzle Inn is the oldest pub on Bermuda (established in 1932).  The family-run establishment has since expanded to two locations. The original tavern remains on Bailey’s Bay.  Locals and tourists on the South Shore can now gather at the second Swizzle Inn in Warwick.  Known for its signature cocktail. the Rum Swizzle, the Swizzle Inn also offers an extensive menu of pub food including awesome homemade onion rings!

Gibbs Hill LighthouseGibbs Hill Lighthouse:  Just a short walk from The Reefs, Gibbs Hill Lighthouse is a must-see for me whenever we visit Bermuda.  I have climbed the 185 steps to the top of the cast iron lighthouse to enjoy the splendid views.  Along the way, visitors can stop at each level to explore Gibbs Hill Gift Shopthe informational displays about the history of the lighthouse.  Opened in 1846, the Gibbs Hill Lighthouse continues to shine its beacon of light from 362 feet above sea level across the waters of the Atlantic.  Today, the lighthouse also provides a delightful gift shop and restaurant for visitors.

Thank you for reading.  Have a Bermudaful day!

Words and Photos: The Tearoom

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On my first visit to St. Andrews in Scotland, my friend, Susan, and I stumbled upon a charming tearoom located on the edge of the sea.  The name of the establishment made me laugh: Crumbs Pavilion Tearoom.  When I returned home, I wrote this photo essay sparked by the photo I took that afternoon in St. Andrews.

Photo by L. LeVasseur, 1995

Photo by L. LeVasseur, 1995

As soon as she spies the tearoom from the crest of the hill, Sage can’t help smiling.  The compact building sits squarely on the edge of the cliff above the calm, clear ocean.  The summer sun shines down from the azure sky bathing its coral-colored walls in curtains of golden light.  The murmur of voices and the clatter of china and silverware blend with the steady hum of the surf on the beach below.

For her, Crumbs Pavilion Tearoom is a favorite old haunt from her childhood.  She and her pen pal, Linda, who lived on the Isle of Skye, met face-to-face for the very first time at the tearoom.  Shy with each other after their initial greeting, the girls exchanged curious glances as they stood silently at the counter waiting to order Wall’s ice cream bars. Sage asked for a Magnum White and Linda chose almond.  Finally, as they sat side by side on the sea wall, swinging their legs and biting into the thick chocolate that coated the rich vanilla ice cream, they began to talk.  For years, Sage continued to meet Linda at Crumbs each summer.  As they moved from college to first careers and then to marriage, they somehow had let the tradition go.  Until now.  

Linda waits for her at the doorway of the tearoom.  She holds the hand of a young girl, who has straw-colored braids and sports a pair of glamorous white sunglasses.  Catching her breath, Sage feels like she has stepped back in time.  The child is the spitting image of Linda at the same age.  Swept away on a wave of fond memories, Sage laughs like a carefree girl and runs down the hill.

Words and Photos

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After school in my library, I host a creative writing club.  At our meetings, I often use photos or illustrations as the weekly writing prompt.  I love words and photographs and I think they go together like peanut butter and chocolate or like fireflies and summer evenings.  For years, I have traveled with my camera in my hand, capturing memories and moments as I roamed the streets of Edinburgh, traipsed across the sands of Miami Beach or floated down a river in Costa Rica.  I have collected all of these pictures in albums and used some of them as inspiration for a selection of photo essays.

On a trip to Scotland, I visited the Victorian seaport of Oban.  From there, I ferried over to the Isle of Mull to tour Duart Castle.  One of the pictures I took on that bright and beautiful day inspired this photo essay:

The Garden Steps

Gardens at Duart Castle, 1995. Photo by L. A. LeVasseur

Gardens at Duart Castle, 1995. Photo by L. A. LeVasseur

“Oh, wow,” she sighs, her voice echoing against the stone archway as she descends the stairs into the garden.

Pausing on the last step, she lifts her face to the summer sky and breathes in the romantic scent of the roses, which have wandered rampantly up and over the garden walls.  The lawn opens out before her like a velvety green carpet.  Stepping out from the shadow of the imposing castle edifice behind her, she can’t contain her smile as she takes in the vibrant flower beds that border the lawn and the dancing cupid balanced atop an ornamental stone fountain in the middle of the lawn.  The distant tolling of church bells blends harmoniously with the soothing splash of the fountain.

She lifts her camera and takes a careful snapshot.  Then, standing perfectly still, she holds her breath and imagines other voices that have echoed up and down the garden steps.  The authoritative tones of the laird of Clan Maclean.  The respectful replies of the head gardener.  The shouts and laughter of generations of children.  The whispered vows of secret lovers.  And finally, the awed exclamations of tourists like herself.

 

 

When in Rome . . .

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The VaticanIn Elizabeth von Arnim’s delightful novel, The Enchanted April, four London women find a soothing respite from the rain and cold of the British winter by taking up residence in a small Italian castle.  Feeling a bit like Mrs. Wilkins or Mrs. Arbuthnot, I too traveled to Italy this February.  My niece, is studying in Rome for the semester, and my husband and I simply could not pass up the wonderful opportunity to visit her.

View from the Spanish Steps On our first morning in the Eternal City, we were treated to a warm and sunny day.  Walking through the quiet streets of our hotel’s neighborhood, I was happy to have escaped the bleak, relentless winter weather at home.  As we strolled toward the Spanish Steps to meet my niece, I couldn’t believe our plane had taken off the night before in a near blizzard and now were basking in the gentle spring-like sunshine of Italy. Vatican MuseumsDuring our five-day visit, we eagerly played tourist, crossing the city by metro and by bus to experience as many of those can’t-be-missed sights as possible.  We viewed the Colosseum and the Forum by night.  We said a prayer in the Pantheon and stood in awe in front of Michelangelo’s Pietà in St. Peter’s Basilica.  We toured the Vatican Museums and gazed up at the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel.  We had dinner on a restaurant terrace in the Piazza Navona and sampled “the best” gelato in Rome at the Frigidarium.  However, the highlight of the trip for me, was the morning we spent at the Keats-Shelley House. Keats-Shelley MuseumIn 1820, diagnosed with tuberculosis, poet John Keats traveled to the warmer climate of Rome to convalesce.  He lived at 26 Piazza di Spagna, just at the foot of the Spanish Steps.  Sadly, he never recovered his health, and passed away there in February 1821.  Today, the house is preserved as a museum dedicated to the British Romantic Poets.  The collection features, portraits, correspondence, manuscripts and other memorabilia of literary notables like Percy Shelley, Mary Shelley and Lord Byron, as well as Keats.  We spent a fascinating morning learning about these writers and their connection to Rome. Piazza di Spagna mapThe neighborhood surrounding the Spanish Steps was a haven for writers, artists and architects during the nineteenth century.  John Keats and many others found great creative inspiration during their time in Rome.  Perhaps I should follow in their footsteps.  Right now, I am writing a series of short stories chronicling the travels of a food critic named Elizabeth Ann Martini.  She (and I) might enjoy a trip to Rome in her next story . . .