poetry and prose about place

Posts Tagged ‘ferry

fields and ferry crossings

with 4 comments


7-35  September 30, 2013  35 minutes  3.0 km  (north of St. Just in Roseland to ferry across River Fal)


The thirty-fifth day of my virtual bike trip left me scrambling for an image to paint.  I biked over miles of country road and although the countryside is lovely, I couldn’t seem to find an image that ‘spoke’ to me.  In this end, I chose a tree along the road to Philleigh.  Greens are so difficult for me – I couldn’t seem to achieve anywhere near the yellow hue of the greens in the photo …


7-35 tree by road

inspiration for ‘countryside near Philleigh’ (image from Street View)


Oct. 3, 2013 'countryside near Philleigh'   Jane Tims

Oct. 3, 2013 ‘countryside near Philleigh’ Jane Tims


7-36  October 2, 2013  35 minutes  3.0 km  (ferry across River Fal to Feock)


Ferry crossings are always fun.  The Ferry across the River Fal didn’t look very different from the crossings here in New Brunswick …


7-35 ferry crossing River Fal

the blue flat-decked boat is the ferry … and look at the big ship just up river (image from Street View)


I especially liked the house where the ferry docked on the west side of the river – lots of flowers and stone …


ferry landing at River Fal

September 27, 2013  'flowers near River Fal'   Jane Tims

September 27, 2013 ‘flowers near River Fal’ Jane Tims


7-37  October 8, 2013  25 minutes  3.0 km  (Foeck to Penpol)


If the thirty-fifth day of my travels was mostly fields, the thirty-seventh was mostly trees.  I love the circular ‘tree tunnels’ formed along the Cornwall roads when the hedgerows are pruned.  In this interpretation of one of one of those archways, I decided not to paint a single individual leaf …


7-37 tree tunnel

inspiration for ‘road tunnel near Penpol’ (image from Street View)


October 3, 2013 'road tunnel near Penpol'   Jane Tims

October 3, 2013 ‘road tunnel near Penpol’ Jane Tims


Along the way, I often ‘see’ enchanting gateways.  I particularly like the gates with stone post like this one near Feock …


Oct. 4, 2013 'gate near Feock'   Jane Tims

October 4, 2013 ‘gate near Feock’ Jane Tims


Copyright  2013  Jane Tims

crossing the river #2

with 2 comments

In the 1970s, when my husband and I had only known each other for about a month, we were stranded for three hours on a ferry that quit half way across the river.  The ferryman just shrugged, said he’d be back, and rowed away in the lifeboat. 

We were desperate.  For an hour, we skipped stones across the water.  I don’t believe there was a single stone or pebble or grain of sand left on the ferry deck!  We talked, of course, and probably found out how much we had in common. We’ve been together for almost 33 years. 

When the ferryman returned, he brought some sandwiches his wife had made for us and the news we would have to wait two more hours for the Coast Guard to come up the river from Saint John to tow us to the shore. 

Needless to say, we were eventually rescued.   And I have never experienced a ferry breakdown again.

some of these would be excellent for skipping


skipping stones


collect your stones

select for flat and smooth

stones with knowledge

embedded flight and float

pile your stones


hold your hand

like this, curl your finger

round the stone, flat curve against

your palm, coddled

cover of a book

you never want to end


swoop back

arm and index finger

parallel to shore, release




                                                                              the way



                                                                                                                 with edge

                                                                                                                                     of skim





concentric rings

connect and scatter


select another stone



© Jane Tims 2011

Written by jane tims

September 16, 2011 at 7:17 am

crossing the river

with 10 comments

In New Brunswick, the Saint John River watershed accounts for more than one-third of the province.  It is a majestic river, almost 700 kilometers long, beginning in Maine and Quebec as small tributaries and gradually gaining in width and volume as it flows towards the Bay of Fundy. 

One of the best things about living near the Saint John River is its cable ferries. 

There are several bridges, of course, but no means of transport across the Saint John River can compare with the mini-voyage experience of crossing the river on a summer day with the wind in your hair and the dazzle of water in your eyes.  It is always interesting watching the ferryman packing the cars in like sardines on the busy days.  There is usually some interesting local event posted on the bulletin board.  And New Brunswick’s river ferries are free to ride!

In 1978, I made several trips on a ferry that was only in operation for a short time.  This was the car ferry at Cambridge-Narrows on Washademoak Lake, part of Washademoak River, one of the large tributaries to the Saint John River.  It operated for a few months after the covered bridge there was flattened in the Groundhog Gale of February 2, 1976.  The new bridge was built shortly afterward in 1978 and only local people remember the ferry. 

However, I remember the ferry at Cambridge-Narrows very well.  I wrote the poem ‘Lights on the Lake’ one evening as I took the ferry across the Narrows and felt the peacefulness of the small community winding down from the summer season.     

For a short history of Cambridge-Narrows and a photograph of the covered bridge after it was destroyed by the Groundhog Gale, see 


Lights on the Lake





fairy bulbs on masts

sunset on sail

amber to trace

the ferry’s quiet crossing



leaded porch lights

propane glow

twin headlights

joust along the cottage road



strings of lantern

patio voices, clinking and laughter

fires on the beach

sparks stirred toward the sky



waves flirt with stars

Aurora Borealis leaps

fireflies blink

brief messages of love




comes an evening at summer’s end    crowd and fireflies are gone   night storms    shuttered windows 

darkened doors  the charred remains of fires

on the shore


and     through the trees     a ruby gleam

a choir practices its song



© Jane Tims 1978

Written by jane tims

September 10, 2011 at 6:51 am

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