Bodices and Bugs

Saturday began with rain. The sky hung heavy with ominous clouds and the air was thick with moisture. Not a day to be spending outdoors so I decide to get an early start at The Museum of Shenandoah Valley where there were a couple of new exhibitions.

There were few cars in the parking lots, good to see, so I walked to the main building and climbed the stairs to The Bodice Project, an exhibit of torso sculptures of women who've battled breast cancer. These photos are taken with my iPhone since they don't allow DSLR photos to be taken in the exhibitions. The sculptures reflect their emotions and views of their battles, all of them displaying intense inner strength, and I was humbled to walk among them. I entered the room, amazed that I was the only one there. A security guard came in a few minutes later, pointing out those that were her favorites. I listened, following her around, interested to view these works of art through her eyes, and then she left me alone so I could absorb them for myself.

 It amazed me how individual and unique they all were, a reflection of the characters and personalities that they displayed. Reading every single description hammered home the depth of sorrow and fear this disease had inflicted on these women and their families. I pondered whether I could display the same strength and power these brave ladies had during their fights. I haven't gone into the details of the sculptures here, they are all shown with accompanying information on the link below. But it was a powerful experience to walk among these works of art, knowing they represented real people,  feeling the strength of emotion pouring from each one, and the loss from those who hadn't survived.  

There a full list of all the bodices and their descriptions here.

I left the building to make my way to the gardens. Stepping out through the glass doors I was momentarily blinded by the sun's glare and its intense heat was horrific. I marched straight to my car to grab my camera and briefly considered getting in to feel the cool AC on my skin, but before I could succumb I slammed the door shut and made my way over to the garden gates. People were starting to show up and I'd been hoping to see this next exhibit without too many crowds.

David Rogers is an artist who uses all natural materials, fallen or dead tree limbs, logs and twigs, and chooses the woods for their colors. His love for wood began as a teenager and at 25 he started building sculptures and garden furniture. There are actually 40 sculptures in The Big Bugs exhibit, with 14 different subjects. Here at the museum there are 10 on display, placed throughout the gardens and interacting with the habitats. There was a map showing where all the bugs were but I ignored this, preferring to walk around the gorgeous gardens and be surprised and delighted when I came across one.

The first, Bee on Flower, was a work of art. For some reason I'd been assuming the bugs would be in a rougher, more natural, condition, yet these were so smooth and highly polished that I was initially taken aback, and had to ponder as to whether I actually liked them. But as I stood and inspected the piece more closely, I had to admire the beautiful tones, grains and lines of the black walnut, black locust and red cedar wood that the polish highlighted and accentuated. Even the metal joints were so small and well hidden that they played little part in the sculpture, the focus was all on the wood and the insect it portrayed. The Grasshopper was huge, 4 feet, 6 inches long and weighed 200 pounds. Sitting rather realistically in a bed of vegetables, its black locust wood gleamed. I then spotted the red cedar and willow Damselfly hovered over a small pond with steel wings held upright.

The Spider in the Web caught me by surprise. I rounded a corner, shielded by a tall hedge of conifers, and there it was, a 12 feet high willow and steel circular web with a 4 feet wide black walnut spider in the middle. I did find this a little intimidating and didn't stop for too long, feeling happy when I came across the Bee and Skep, a beautiful construction. The skep made of willow and steel and the bee carved from black walnut and black locust. They caught the sunlight perfectly, I loved the shadow and light play on the coiled willow. Apparently the real size of a skep is about 14 inches in diameter and 10 inches high, the approximate size of a hat box. And then I spotted the Ladybugs, (pun intended). I initially thought that they were stinkbugs until I  got close. Made of red cedar with black walnut spots, they were each about 2 feet 6 inches wide, displaying wonderfully variegated wood grain.

I walked into the  enclosed garden and was greeted by a huge 17 feet high Daddy Longlegs, made from red cedar and willow, and weighing in at 600 pounds! He towered over the plants, looking like a Martian. Out on the open grass was a monster Praying Mantis, 18 feet long and weighing over 1200 pounds, he gleamed in the bright sunshine. A lot of kids were running around him so I didn't linger but instead made my way to the Asian garden, where I found a Dragonfly flying across the water. Red cedar and willow with steel wings, I loved the mood of this photo, this bug looking the most realistic of all of them to me. I'd had to hurry the shot as there was only one small path down to the pond and a family were waiting for me to walk back before they could come down. Everyone in the gardens was being very polite and considerate with the social distancing rules.

I walked down towards the stone wall with Chinese dragons sitting on top and where a pair of red circular gates are always closed. I had always wondered on previous visits what was behind them and today I would find out, because they were open! I tentatively walked towards them and peered into the darkness beyond. There was a bamboo forest back here, tall green stalks about 3 inches thick towered above me, their canopy of leaves casting dark cool shadows. The temperature had dropped by at least 10 degrees, it felt deliciously cool. Mulch covered paths led through the shadows, small openings with benches and Asian ornaments added interest, and a small pond area was being created. I walked back out, feeling very satisfied that I had finally seen behind those red gates, and walked towards the cottage garden area.

I met the security guard that I'd chatted to inside the museum, she was now patrolling out here, and we resumed our conversation as we walked, discussing the bodices and the bugs. The last big bug was this gorgeous Hummingbird hovering over flowers. Made of rainbow poplar and black walnut the hummingbird flutters over red cedar and black locust flowers and is about 11ft tall, weighing a total of 140lbs.

I left the gardens with the sun high in the sky, sending down burning rays. ducks and geese were napping under the shade of trees by the creek, and i felt inclined to join them. I gratefully plopped into my car, turning on the AC full blast, and left the summer heat to the kids romping on the grass outside.

Partytime Paddle with Pals at Pohick

I drove down a nearly empty Rte 66 early on Sunday, breaking through patches of fog, the sun dragging itself up from the horizon, seemingly as tired as myself. But today was going to be a fun day, the yearly tradition of myself, Emily and Margie meeting up to paddle at Pohick Bay. Big Red was still at home. I'd attempted to patch a small leak but my poor back, still recovering from Friday's weeding marathon, would not bend adequately for me to seal the leak and load the boat onto the car. So I'd be hiring a boat today. I also left my camera at home. Last year I had tipped out of my boat and dunked my nearly new compact Canon camera, which had never worked since then. Today would be iPhone photos only.

Emily and I both rented our kayaks and began paddling along the shoreline to meet Margie and load our boats with provisions for the day. This was my first time using a sit-on kayak, rather than one with a cockpit, and I wasn't initially keen on the prospect, but I had to admit after a while that it was actually quite comfortable. Plenty of leg and wiggle room, and easy to reach storage bays which I could strap a cooler on plus still have room up front for drinks and my waterproof bag.

 The weed was thick on the water. We spoke with a couple who had been here the previous day at the same time, who were dismayed with the hard paddling. Apparently yesterday there had been hardly any weed. It was as if overnight someone had hauled in a lengthy blanket of weed to cover as much of the water as possible. Every paddle that dipped into the water came up with a clump of heavy greenery trailing down; it was a good workout. A turnout of terns sat on a rotten branch poking up through the weed, ospreys were nesting in dead tree tops, none of them interested in the man made wooden platforms that had been recently erected, egrets stood silent and tall, brilliant white against the lush greens. Through the course of the day, we spotted grey and green herons hurriedly flapping away from us, a bald eagle soaring directly above in an azure sky, and flocks of red wing blackbirds chattering loudly as they rustled through the tall reeds.

We were pleased to make it past the point where we stopped for the whole day last year, about 15 mins from the beach, and slowed to admire the tall rice grass and pickerel flowering among the lily pads. I love the pickerel plant with its beautiful veined leaves and butterfly attracting blooms. Because they'd made a memorable impression after seeing them here, I had bought a plant last year for my own pond at home.

Just around the corner I spotted a water snake coiled on a shaded patch of damp mud. He glared at me in disgust for a few seconds and then proceeded to slide off, rather haughtily I thought, into the water to find a more private spot. The sun was beating down and Margie thought it was about time for a beverage. Emily and I hooted in agreement so we moored up under a shady tree on the edge of the creek.

We sat for hours under our tree, chatting, eating and drinking. Emily attempted to get out of her boat and ended up tipping over completely. Like last year her car keys dropped to the creek floor, but were retrieved safely. I joined her in the water, it felt wonderful, a slow cool current brushing against our legs. A small handful of people passed by but for most of the day we had our little spot to ourselves, only disturbed by two industrious otters who were building a nest, swimming back and forth to a bank close by with their mouths full of twigs. The clouds were huge, fluffy and gleaming white, yet I noticed some were becoming grey as they drifted over, and as more time passed passed they turned dark grey and hung lower. I'd heard what I thought was thunder a few times earlier yet we'd dismissed it as the nearby military base running an exercise or a distant quarry setting off explosives. The weather had been bright and glorious then but now it was changing, the sun constantly ducking behind metal grey clouds. We welcomed the break from the hot sun and decided to paddle more upstream.

We'd only paddled for a few minutes before the rain came down. Softly at first but soon a crescendo of water droplets pounding the creek, creating huge bubbles that floated and burst as they passed. It was exhilarating and refreshing. We were wet already from being in the water earlier so this was now fun. Thunder crashed overhead and apprehension set in when we saw a few lightning strikes. After about 20 minutes or so we decided to turn back since really, this wasn't safe to be out here on the water with lightning.

We battled through the weed, not seeing a single soul out in kayaks, we had the place to ourselves. A rainbow crested the lake while rain continued to fall ahead of us. But on the bank it was dry. Emily's boat looked like a floating skip, I had to laugh, yet these sit-on kayaks have plenty of room and were great for maneuvering. The storm had passed by the time we'd got Margie's boat on her car and returned our hired ones. A beautiful sunset had turned the sky to peach, banishing the angry clouds and painting them blush. Time to sit on a bench for another beverage and admire our surroundings before the long drive home.

The Iron Lady of Phillipsburg

Very early on Saturday, I emerged from my home into a dark, muggy morning and drove to meet Margie, with whom I'd ride to an old pump house in New Jersey. We had an appointment with 13 other explorers to view this old building privately. The date had been canceled once due to COVID, but the caretaker felt that, with diligent care and common sense, we could keep our date today. It was fabulous to see the crew for the first time in months, but very difficult to hold myself back from hugging them all, so a few elbow bumps were exchanged. I seriously hope this won't be a greeting that takes hold, I'm not a fan.

We all stood in a circle and listened to Ken, the kind gentleman allowing our tour today, a sprightly 80 year old, sporting a pony tail and a laid back attitude. He informed us that we were free to go anywhere and climb on anything, but if any accidents occurred there would be a timely wait for help since he wouldn't be rushing anywhere fast to get help. Fair 'nuff!

We all entered slowly into the huge dim chamber, letting our eyes get accustomed to the change from the glaring sunlight, and ensuring we all kept well apart from each other. There was a pleasant aroma of old fuel, aging machinery and damp brickwork, and I breathed in deeply once I'd pulled down my face mask. It was very humid inside and I have to confess that I was lazy, leaving my tripod by the door, and my photos do reflect this. But I had a problem standing still, so excited to be out 'on an explore' with such excellent people and the freedom to clamber anywhere I desired, that dragging a tripod around and standing still to set up long exposure shots simply wasn't an option today. I looked at the couple of others I saw who were studiously bent over their tripods and wished I had better self constraint.

After a couple of minutes taking a few random shots I grabbed a handrail and hauled myself up onto the vast pump. I wanted to calm myself down and concentrate on my photography plus ensure I was away from my neighboring camera clickers. It was pretty humid in the pump house which made it uncomfortable wearing a mask. It felt great standing on top of this monster piece of machinery, like standing on a mountain, and it was solid, extremely well built. All the handrails and steps were very secure. It was a long drop down to the reservoir below and I could see my friends milling about, looking for their next photo.

This old pumping plant was founded in 1885, a five-story steam pumping plant assembled on site that ran until 1969. The 300hp steam engine is 51ft tall and is known as 'Big Alice'. It pumped six million gallons a day from the Delaware River to a reservoir. Today it stood silent, yet water still dripped from its joints and the reservoir below still held pockets of water, a shiny purple sheen of oil floating on top.

Since we had been given a free rein I climbed out onto a galley of metal grating that had much bigger gaps than I felt comfortable with, but the handrail felt solid so I inched out until I could get the old terminal sign in my frame without it being scrunched up.

There are many rail artifacts hung, piled or stacked in the pump house, outside or in another building. Old pieces of rail tracks, benches, many signs, posters, crates of tools and boxes of historical artifacts are all being preserved and saved for the new NJ Transportation Heritage Center which is being planned.

We're definitely a 'fun-ful' group! These steps were weird, they sloped slightly away and down as I climbed up, likely to stop me falling back, but it felt very unnatural.

I covered every part of the pump, squeezing between pipes, climbing up stairs and peering into dark spaces. And because our group was so small it sometimes felt like I had this wonder all to myself.

The Friends of the New Jersey Transportation Heritage Center had worked on restoring this hulk for years and managed to get it running in July 2018, making it the largest running stationary steam engine in North America, video here. It had last run in 1982.

The FriendsNJTHC website is here.

Outside were a few old trucks and a bus that had been daubed with graffiti on the last break in. They have plenty of cameras installed now and a multitude of padlocks on the buildings so security has been increased. There's also an 80's fire pump which will be used for rides when the heritage center opens. Ken drove it out of the shed and when I asked if I could ride shotgun, he yelled, "Jump in!" I told him I hadn't ridden in a fire truck for over 30 years when I was a firefighter in England, so bless his heart, he told me we'd go for a short ride. The engine couldn't leave the premises so we rode up and down the driveway a couple of times, and I have to say he put his foot down. It was hard to believe he was 80 years old the way he handled that truck, and he informed me with a grin, that he was the only one in the group that drove it. The others were too nervous. We laughed. I wished I could have given him a big hug when we got back, he was a charming host, but the damn social distancing rules, once again, put paid to any contact.

We all donned our masks to pose for a group photo inside, and it turned out great. Well done Eric. When our time was up, we left, some of us wanting to return at a later date. I'd certainly like to go back if it meant seeing the pump operating. We were starving and found a local brewery where we could sit spaced out outside in the shade. Böser Geist Brewing was a great find, excellent beers, with Richard and I agreeing we'd had the best pickle fries ever here. Plus our group being able to sit outside in the shade was a huge bonus. After lunch, a few of us agreed to check out the local Dixie cup factory, a few miles down the road. It was inaccessible so we continued on to St Michael's Cemetery, a few minutes away, where we could look down on to the Bethlehem steel stacks. I found this depressing. The cemetery was badly neglected and vandalized, anything resembling a statue or intricate carving had been destroyed. We didn't stay long and soon left, waving farewells to each other as we all began our long drives home through the dusk.