I’ve never seen the mushrooms achieve the size they have this summer. This looked like someone tossed in a big old bath sponge.

 

 

 

 

 

 

cap to show the size of these clumps

 

 

 

coexisting nicely

 

 

 

 

An archipelago of coral fungus

 

 

 

Finger Lakes, FLX, food, hiking, Ithaca, NY, Uncategorized, Upstate New York

An archipelago of coral fungus

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Uncategorized, hiking, Upstate New York, politics, NY, FLX, United States

Zen Stone Stacking & the Art of Auto Maintenance


We’d been walking along the shore of Lake Ontario,and stopped to watch the sailboats and drink some water.

A very nice lady saw us fooling with these rocks, and asked if we were professional artists, and if she could photograph our “stone stacking.”

It almost seemed like she was serious, so I told her, we artists prefer our creations to be called “Cobble Assemblages”.  And that we’re novices, from the Spiral Jetty School, working our way up to pyramids and standing stone circles.  No money is required to view them, but an offering of fresh fruit is appreciated.

This strange little hobby, stacking up stones, “rock balancing” seems to have really caught on.

We’ve run across them in stream beds, woods, parks, even on the berms near shopping malls.

Sometimes there are so many, it appears a Neolithic cult is out there in the woods.

 

What is the point of this?  I’ve heard a lot of people take this pretty seriously, saying “it’s kind of a Zen thing,” finding the center of gravity of these eccentric objects, and easing you into a contemplative state.

OK.  Sure, you bet.

That sounds “a bit much,” New Age nonsense, and the funny thing is, I think they’re kind of right.

This balancing act takes focus, maybe even discipline.

I’m thinking, as we gravely heft the rocks and find the center of gravity, it’s kind of like politics.

Whether a box of rocks, or the electorate, or that portion of the electorate that resembles a box of rocks, it takes an artist to find the center, to balance every component, including the unstable and unbalanced.   This is rock stacking, kids, not mud slinging, not casting stones.

When you do this stacking thing, you don’t select only perfectly flat rocks, where’s the challenge in that?

To be a sportin’ proposition, you have to take ’em as you find ’em.

That’s not to say, that sometimes, you get frustrated, it’s just not working, and you just chunk it back into the water, to get a few rough edges knocked off, or it can swim back to Canada, and wait for the next glacier to bring it south again, a bit more polished.

Politics is also supposed to somehow build things, using all of us lumpy, uncooperative, odd people, being gathered together to build something, say, a city on the hill.

My sister sings while she gathers stones, and the music reminds me of an old metaphor used in politics  — the “bandwagon,” and I’ve always liked that image – – a big, brassy, hurly-burly, rock ‘n’roll hell-on-wheels.

Like taking a bunch of kids on a car trip – – just an unholy load of mischief, usually loud, a bit smelly, arguments and sharp elbows, but after an eternity or two, you do get to the beach, and everybody pitches in to build some beautiful sandcastles, or, in our rocky part of the world, a cool stone stack.

Bandwagon or stone stack, it has to find a place for everybody — leaning left, leaning right, centrist, positive, negative, neutral.

Doesn’t that sound kind of fun?  “Come on, blow your own horn if you must, but everybody up on the bandwagon.”  (And in the case of many politicians, we can add “Stay on the wagon!”)

It has to be a big ol’ wagon.  Not a buggy of the extreme and the angry.  The surly with the lunatic fringe on top.

 

A cairn by environmental artist Andy Goldsworthy, in Sapsucker Woods, the preserve around the Cornell Ornithology Lab, in Ithaca, NY

~ ~ ~

We had a huge old car once, that kept turning over, even after it was switched off, mindlessly “dieseling,” kind of like it had a coughing jag, and couldn’t stop.

Like a lot of folks, I find it can be surprisingly hard to shut your thoughts off, like that old car, definitely not firing on all cylinders, but just spluttering along.

Like some of our public figures, the car was too greasy, too much carbon buildup, too much hot gas coming out the back end.

Missing filters, endless idling, running on and on, throwing a smoke screen, leaking oil into the ground water.  Chugging along, backfiring out half-digested dinosaur crap.

Our system right now, it appears some wiseguy snuck in, and switched the spark plug wires around, firing all out of order.

Like taking a Cadillac, all rose-tinted glass and a plush ride, in for a tuneup, to a shady shadetree mechanic.

And that bad grease monkey fast-talks us into trading for a rusted-out Gremlin, with no muffler, twisted axis, sorry, I mean, axle, and bad tie rods, so it keeps swerving to the right, and into the gutter.

~ ~ ~

Stone stacking helps us relax.  You focus and forget about squabbles and arguments.

And when you don’t focus, you drop a rock on your toe, which sure takes your mind off less pressing concerns.

Like politicking, we’re just childishly happy to shut down any higher brain functions, and see Just How High Can We Pile It, before it all falls over.

~ ~ ~ ~

Meanwhile… we were On The Beach.  The lake shore we’re hiking along is a shingle — tons of piled-up pebbles, so we weren’t prying stones out of the ground and contributing to erosion, or disturbing a stream bed, etc.  Sometimes it’s fun to poke at a few things with a stick, and see what crawls out from under a rock, but we’ve had quite enough of that lately.

A  key thing with these stone stacks:  they’re not cairns, memorials, or markers, so take them apart when you’re done.  Some of the ones we’ve seen, are big enough, they seem like a survivalist’s deadfall trap for little kids.

It falls under the “Leave No Trace” law of the woods.

Leave no stone un-returned.  And for heaven’s sake let’s get some bright new spark plugs and a tuneup for that heap.

 

 

 

 

Standard

 

We’ve had plenty of rain in Upstate New York this summer, so the countryside is lush and green.

A steady stream of storms hanging over our heads.  A summer flooded with talk of swollen swamps, mushrooms and clouds.

And now, talk of mushroom clouds.

The sound of running water fills the damp woods, and I’ve been taking photos of pretty rivulets, graced with ferns and arching tree limbs.

But yesterday, while listening to the news about Korea, I saw this shot, of black shale in an unnamed stream, and it suited my mood.

A geology website informs us that this little waterfall runs through a “dissected plateau” – – layers of shale, sandstone, and limestone.

“Dissect” always has an unpleasant connotation to me, of high school biology class.

Personally, I like my frogs live and hopping.

The rocks are dull-colored and lifeless-looking, but if you pry open some of the layers, they’re teaming with fossils.

The ancient creatures embedded in the rock, probably thought things were going ok, and went about their business, but in some layers, the density of their remains, speaks of mass die-offs.

These were lower lifeforms, I guess they never saw it coming.

Sounding a bit downbeat!  So what to do?

I suggest…go take a walk.  Enjoy the green woods and the sound of waterfalls.

One of my favorite presidents, Harry Truman, used to walk two miles every day.

Following his walk, he then had one shot of bourbon.

If you feel an affection or need for clubs, ok, do your walking on a golf course.

Harry did not play golf.  He just took a brisk little hike, and shook hands with people he met.

He used an old-fashioned word to describe his walk:  his morning “constitutional”.

These are clearly winning concepts:  Take a walk.  Take a drink.  Shake hands.  Constitutional.

I don’t think there’s too many people, after more than sixty years, who care deeply about MacArthur’s dismissal.  If you’re not a student of history, MacArthur was our top general, when we were fighting in Korea.  Truman decided he’d gotten too big for his britches, and we couldn’t have a military leader who was arrogant, contemptuous, disrespectful and reckless.   Korea was a bad place to be reckless.

And Harry sent him walking.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

hiking, Not humorous, politics, Uncategorized, United States

Sometimes it’s a waterfall, and sometimes, it’s just things going downhill

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photography, Uncategorized

Summertime ~ ghost stories in the park

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“Burnside’s Bridge” across Antietam Creek. A bucolic scene of a graceful old bridge, built in the 1830’s by the local German-American farmers. On September 17, 1862, hundreds of soldiers were shot down trying to cross it. I kayaked under the bridge, and you can still see countless pockmarks from bullets.

 

 

The bridge in 1862. Hand-colored photograph from Library of Congress

 

 

The “Dunker” Church at Antietam. The German Baptist Brethren were a pacifist sect. Their simple church was pockmarked with hundreds of bullets during the battle, and served as a field hospital, filled with the wounded and dying. After the battle, it was used to embalm bodies – –  just one of the many wonderful areas of technological advances during 1861-1865.

 

 

 

 

 

Repeating rifles using metal cartridges were available during the war, but the majority of soldiers were still using muzzle-loaders. So to be a soldier, all you want for Christmas is your two front teeth, to bite off the top of the paper cartridge holding the gunpowder and bullet.

 

 

Old house overlooking the Antietam battlefield.  If I remember right, it looks out toward Bloody Lane.

 

 

Gettysburg

 

 

“Little Round Top” is a rocky hill at Gettysburg. General Gouverneur Warren climbed it and instantly realized that if the approaching Confederate forces occupied it, the battle was lost. Yankees won the race up the hill, and held it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Civil War, Decoration Day, History, Memorial Day, photography, Uncategorized

Memorial Day 2017. Pictures of Gettysburg & Antietam

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The “Flags on Parade” stamp was first issued on May 30, 1991 in Waterloo, NY, for the 125th anniversary of the village’s Memorial Day observances.

 

1908

 

c. 1900-1910

 

 

1908

 

1908  Grand Army of the Republic. Membership in the G.A.R. peaked at 490,000 in 1890. Their last “encampment” was held in Indianapolis in 1949, and it’s last member died seven years later.

 

1908

 

 

 

Decoration Day, History, Memorial Day, Uncategorized, Waterloo

Memorial Day Postcards V ~ ~ ~ 1900 – 1910 ~ ~ ~ Old Glory

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The Spanish-American War provided another opportunity for reconciliation between Civil War vets. “Fighting Joe” Wheeler, the Confederate general, later commanded the U.S. cavalry fighting in Cuba. (Although while watching the Spanish troops retreat, he forgot himself and yelled “Let’s go, boys! We’ve got the damn Yankees on the run!”)

 

An odd juxtaposition — a solemn admonition “Lest we forget” with pretty women in uniform.

 

I count 46 stars, so 1908-1912. Until the Spanish-American War, soldiers wore blue wool, winter or summer, and even after khaki was adopted, the blue survived as the dress uniform. I thought this hat was fanciful, but other than the gaudy gold trim, it’s actually the correct style of dress cap for that era.

 

1908. Horrifyingly indiscreet, but at least the young lady isn’t revealing any ankle.

 

In the 1890’s, this became a day for hugely popular bicycle races, followed in 1911 by the Indy 500. It’s a neat poster, but again, it seems like a strange partnering of soldiers, aged vets, and bicyclists. Library of Congress

 

This one puzzles me — has he enlisted to escape his formidable-looking wife? Or was he shooting at that hat by mistake, hoping to have pheasant for dinner?

Civil War, Decoration Day, Memorial Day, Uncategorized

Memorial Day Postcards IV ~ ~ ~ A Bit Less Serious

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