Breathtaking Bricks of Lego

Sunday was forecast to be interrupted all day with showers, but after a Saturday of house cleaning, patio clearing and running errands I wanted to be out of the house and relax. The night before I spotted an advert for The Museum of the Shenandoah Valley in Winchester which was just opening a LEGO exhibit so I drove towards that. My brother and I grew up loving these bricks although we constantly felt we never had enough, and even now if I see a pile it's hard to resist the temptation to start clamping them together.
With dark clouds looming above me and small raindrops splatting on the windscreen I made the 45 minute drive, having stashed an umbrella and a raincoat in the car. I was determined to take photos regardless, assuming that the miserable weather would detract families with children, and hoping thus I'd have the place mostly to myself.
As I got closer the heavens opened, walls of rain thrashing against the car and hammering on the roof, but amazingly as I got close to the museum the rain petered off, the sun valiantly pushing its way through the clouds. Pulling into the parking lot, there was only a handful of vehicles present and for a brief panicky moment I wondered if the museum had closed the gardens due to the inclement weather. But I spotted a lady inside the gate kiosk so walked towards her, leaving my jacket and umbrella in the car since it was actually now quite warm and clammy outside, and I guessed if the rain started then I'd just have to dash inside a building.
Beyond the gates I smiled at the peaceful tranquility the rain showers had brought. The branches dripped and the lush grass glittered, loaded with raindrops. There were hardly any people here. The hugest blue heron I've ever seen sauntered slowly alongside a gushing creek while 3 Muscovy ducks were obviously enjoying the rushing water. As I stood quietly watching them, they sped down the creek, then climbed to the bank, wings flapping furiously as they battled against the strong current to get out. The group then walked back up alongside the water to where a pond gushed over a wall of rocks into the creek below. They all climbed on to the rocks and then plopped back into the rapids for another go at Nature's thrill ride. It was like watching kids enjoying the water rides at an amusement park, these ducks were evidently having great fun. It was also interesting to note that a group of mallards close by took no notice of the Muscovy ducks' antics, preferring instead to nap on the banks with heads tucked under their wings. I stood watching this for a good 10 minutes before the Muscovy ducks had finally had enough and bobbed peacefully in the upper pond, to get their breaths back no doubt.

After snapping a lot of photos I started to concentrate on the amazing Lego structures that were scattered around the gardens. They were incredible. Built by Brooklyn artist, Sean Kenney, over 400,000 bricks have been used. The exhibit, called Nature Connects, is vibrantly colorful and surprisingly lifelike. I peered closely at the peacock and monarch butterfly, really enjoying the lack of crowds so I could get close to appreciate them better. But then as I peered through my viewfinder I discovered a little pop up notice, tiny at the top, stating 'no memory card'. I'd done it again. It seems I am incapable of checking that the card is in my camera before I use it and I had failed to bring a spare. But since I had only myself to blame, I resolutely pulled out my iPhone and used that instead. I was miffed that I'd not got any shots of the Muscovy ducks enjoying the water but at least I had enjoyed the moment and had the memories.

It was lovely to see some bluebells in the garden. I'd only been thinking a few days before that I missed the English bluebells so was delighted to see this huge bed of blooms. They weren't English bluebells but Spanish. More upright than the English variety and lacking the intoxicating perfume, but pretty nonetheless. I was happy to see them.

The Lego exhibits were fabulous and I wished there was information on how long each had taken to build, it must have been days on each one. The corn spider was actually quite chilling to look up at. Although not realistic, it was somewhat daunting to have a spider of that size hanging so close above my head.
Still enjoying the solitude, with only a gardener and a small group of older adults walking around, I strolled over to the Asian gardens.

These are so pretty, with sculptures and Asian touches wherever you look, even huge bamboo plants flanking the walls. The little creek was rushing through a little faster than usual and some of the flagstones were a little slippery but I pottered about, enjoying the peace. Usually this little tucked away area is bustling with visitors. As I walked back up the hill, a gentleman came in and leaned against a railing, obviously enjoying the quietness too. I left so he could have it completely to himself.

The gardens were alive with fresh green shoots, young plants spurting upwards, ready to put on their summer show. There were still plenty of spring blooms but the rain had taken its toll. Heavy flower heads bowing over after the rainstorm, huge water droplets hanging on their petals, looked in need of a shake to lighten their load so I helped a few, enjoying watching them bounce upwards again.

This was my favorite Lego display. I stood for some time scrutinizing the details in the figures, checking from every angle to see how the artist had placed the bricks. There was even water in the watering can.

This is a much photographed walkway throughout the year. Although the arches weren't yet covered there were yellow jasmine plants spiraling up each post. The plants were young and only just beginning to take off but their scent was intoxicating. I wandered up and down a couple of time, simply sniffing.

These deers were fabulous too, nearly 100,000 bricks used. Every exhibit piece was incredibly lifelike, I was very impressed. I had arrived assuming that the display would be geared more towards children but it was definitely enjoyable for adults also.I had to backtrack round a few places to recapture some of the photos I'd 'taken' on my camera. There were a few more people entering the gardens now. The rain clouds had passed and the sun breaking through glistened and twinkled on the water droplets that clung to flowers, leaves and grass. My boots were quite soggy but I was pleased I'd come. I'm not sure I'll ever look at Legos in the same light again. What had once always been a child's toy were very obviously now fair game to anyone with a creative flair. Maybe I should attempt a sculpture for the patio?

Blooms and Ruins and Cooks

Sunday was a warm breezy day as I drove down to Harrisonburg to explore the Edith J. Carrier Arboretum. I had wanted to see this park since last year when I discovered that they had a bridge very similar to Monet's bridge on his property in Giverny. But then I'd seen on the internet that they were draining, cleaning and deepening the lake as part of a restoration project. Web images showed that the disruption did nothing to induce any scenic photographs, so I decided to wait a year before driving down.
The traffic was light as I passed down I81, high up on a ridge with mountains looming up on either side. The sky was filled with huge fluffy marshmallow clouds that tumbled and rolled in front of me, throwing down dark shadows over the peaks like a blanket on a horse's back. Spring was bursting forth everywhere, fresh bright colors across the landscape. Citrus and chartreuse, emerald and asparagus, the new leaves were opening up and hiding the tired brown branches as if Spring was pulling on a coat of color. Every green blended together, vivid splashes of pinks and yellows breaking up the palette. It always seemed strange to me that Mother Nature appeared to clothe herself in Spring while the animal world did the opposite, shedding their thick, furry winter coats while humans discarded long sleeves and pant legs.
I was amazed when I arrived at the park to find only a few cars in the small parking lot, and even more astounded to realize, once I'd stepped out of the car and looked around, that it appeared I'd be able to walk around the whole park in about 10 minutes. I had assumed it would be a large park. It was very pretty, well manicured lawns, bluebells, azaleas, blossoms, tulips, daffodils, so many pretty pastels, but my first impression was one of disappointment, as I had hoped to spend most of the day here.

 Well, I was here now, so I had to do the place justice and explore thoroughly. I set off, glad not to need a jacket, although some folks sitting on the grass with a picnic had shawls around their shoulders. The grounds were immaculate and the lake did look pretty, no signs of its recent upheaval present. But that bridge looked tiny, I felt like I was walking around a model village. Nevertheless I took the photos I wanted, glad the blossoms were still blooming, and continued along the path.

 The path led into a wooded area and I was delighted to see the ground covered with bluebells, a faint breeze bobbing their pastel blue and pink heads up and down. There were also plenty of Trilliums nestled among them, snow white petals gleaming in the sunshine. A rope bridge crossed a small creek and I do have to confess I spent some time bouncing up and down, enjoying the thrill of being thrown from side to side, but upon spotting a couple walking towards me in the distance, I stopped my frolicking and pretended to take some photos, too embarrassed to look them in the eye.

 There was an area for kids, which was wonderfully empty, a sandpit, an odd looking archway and an interesting bench bereft of any bouncing and howling bairns, a joy to experience, no yelling or screaming! It did seem strange though, that this pretty little oasis in the middle of a bustling town wasn't being enjoyed by many on this glorious Spring day.

 Flowerbeds were filled with tulips and daffodils, near the end of their flowering life, and the ferns were stepping up for the next act, shiny green fronds reaching skywards and unfurling. I made a mental note to visit local woods soon to collect some 'fiddleheads'. Delicious when sauteed in a little oil.

 Even though there were 125 acres here, an hour and a half was all it took to walk the trails. The gardens were beautiful but the wooded paths further away didn't interest me as much, they led into woods looking like most on the Appalachian Trail this time of year, grey and brown with little color. . It had been lovely to see so many spring colors and my first sightings of many plants this year, the bluebells, trilliums and azaleas. Even the rhododendrons' buds were uncurling with pink and cream petals peeking out. I shall definitely drop by again when I'm next in the area, it's a little jewel in this town.

Another gem I was on the lookout for for Cook's country Store. It was past 1pm and I was famished but determined to hold out on the 45 minute journey heading back north to Woodstock. I had seen an article online about old-fashioned rural stores, and wanted to visit this one. First though, I had to pass an eye catching water tower in Mount Jackson. Hand painted by local, Eric Henn, it had cost $250,000 for the mural, replacing old vinyl apples. It looked superb standing high above the fields.
A few minutes later I pulled into an Exxon gas station, Cook's Country Store attached to the side. For some reason I had been expecting a stand alone store but I didn't dally, sauntering straight inside towards a very late lunch. There were a few other food stops in the area but this is the place the locals meet, and a few were present at the tables, covered with clean and shiny sunflower plastic tablecloths. The store has been owned by the Cook family since the 60's and my nose told me that they sure knew what they were doing. The fried chicken and biscuits called my name through the glass which I can't believe anyone can walk past without their mouths watering. Instead I ordered an meat omelette with rye toast and sat down at a table sipping coffee and praying I wouldn't be waiting too long. But my hunger was soon forgotten as I listened to the locals chatting. They all knew each other, the kids had impeccable manners and hugs were given nonstop. I envied their community immensely and felt suddenly homesick, but before I could mope for too long, my omelette was plonked in front of me and I happily tucked in. I've never seen so much ham, bacon and sausage stuffed between 2 eggs and long before I was finished, I was full. The folks near me were finishing their chat and as I got up and sidled past I half hoped they'd give me a hug too. It certainly wouldn't be one of the air hugs I get from my friends. An arm loosely draped over my shoulder, with as little contact as possible, and then 2 tiny, barely felt taps with fingers on my back. I think I only know 3 people who give a proper hug, everyone else does the 'DC Tap' so I tend not to reach out for that contact too frequently...
Earlier as I had neared the restaurant I'd spotted the gables of an old house, it's roof barely discernible through the tree tops, so after lunch I trundled up and down country lanes until I found it. Unfortunately it wasn't as endearing as it had appeared from the interstate but at least my curiosity was sated.

The paint had long gone from the house and what I assumed was an old barn, but the weathered wood looked beautiful. I didn't hang about since there were many 'no trespassing' signs and even a few stating, 'survivors will be shot again', so I took my photos and scarpered. Heading home I decided to go through Front Royal. This bridge has been under construction for a couple of years and is now near completion. It's looking pretty impressive.

I stopped at this field a few miles from home. A gentleman had parked his car and was taking photos. "You know what it is, right?" I asked him. He didn't but thought "it was beautiful." I told him it was Roundup and suggested he look it up on the internet. Unfortunately we have a lot of fields looking like this now around our region, farmers spraying Roundup onto soy bean fields. There have been reports of the dogwood trees being affected. I noticed more yellowing fields as I got closer to home, but had no time to reflect. I needed a nap after that huge omelette!

A Somnolent Stroll on Sunday

About noon on Sunday Rob and Emily turned up at Meadow House. We all hopped into Stanley and headed for the Appalachian Trail near Front Royal for a hike. I usually go out hiking about 9 am so I was already starting to wane and thinking about lunch. I'd been clearing up the patio all morning, flitted back and forth across town running errands and was now ready to kick back and crack a beer. But that was not to be. A marching we must go, and so off we set. I couldn't think of where to go where it wouldn't be too hilly but then as Emily later pointed out, the region I live in has the aptly titled 'Roller Coaster' section of the AT running straight through it. Those inclines could and would not be avoided, however sneaky I attempted to be.
We were going to hike a part of the trail I'd not been along before. The AT crossed Rte 522 and I've hiked northwards but not ever been south. So off we plodded.

I was dismayed to see a pile of discarded cans when we pulled up in the tiny parking lot, but Emily pointed out that they were actually donated refreshments. So my scowl turned to a smile, what a great idea. I wasn't sure that sugary sodas were really ideal for through hikers but on reflection these hardy walkers were likely to only be carrying water in their packs, so these would be a refreshing treat.

 The trail looked quite appealing as we looked down. Well, it's always nice to look down a hill, but I wasn't naive enough to think that would last. The climb started as soon as we reached the end of the boardwalk.

We passed over a creek and then started upwards, bare trees on each side hinting with tiny specks of gold or green that leaves were about to burst forth. Red bud blossoms lit the brown branches with vibrant pink petals and I was amazed to hear birds chirruping above. Usually I notice the woods are silent when I hike through, but today the birds were cheerfully announcing that winter was over and that newly built nests needed to be filled. The air was warm, the sun light and just a hint of a breeze, perfect weather. Except for mosquitoes. Damn mosquitoes. As soon as we stopped we were surrounded by them and 'no-see-ems', buzzing and whining incessantly, brushing annoyingly in my face. The bug spray bottle did overtime on this hike and my eyes watered as I overdosed on Deet.

We kept moving until we met a gentleman coming the other way. He was hiking a stretch of the AT for a few days and sporting a Minion backpack, which he'd obtained from the AT office. Apparently if your own back pack is heavy they will take it for you to a drop off point ahead on the trail and let you borrow one of their lighter packs, which you load up with just the essentials. This practice is known as 'slack packing', which made us all chuckle. We wished him well and continued up the hill.

Rob spotted a 'cave tree'. Of course this meant stopping for a photo op. Rob was first. I berated him for not getting inside the tree properly. He claimed it was too small, which I proved incorrect. so he then posed again. Triumphantly!

Emily found an ant fight in progress. Some black ants had beaten up a red ant, a female as identified by Emily. They were in the process of pulling the poor girl apart until Emily intervened but we'd arrived a little too late.

The trail continued across another couple of creeks, involving some rock hopping. I enjoyed these parts of the hike but the continuous uphill was wearing me out and breaks had to be taken. We took a few of these, stopping to chat, drink water and gnaw on jerky. We stopped too long on these breaks and I felt my energy waning rapidly. I much preferred an early morning start when I felt fresher with more motivation. I was proving to be a real wuss on this excursion.

This uprooted tree looked just like a Triceratops dinosaur or a dragon.

Spring was making an entrance on the ground too. Where, just a few weeks ago, I had hiked on barren trails, dusty, crunchy brown leaves, grey rocks and the only color being the teal lichens on boulders, now gave way to pretty purple violets peeking up from the hard earth, white anemones reaching across to cover the ground, small bright flowers and fresh leaves breaking out and banishing the dull neutral tones. Skunk cabbages pushed up, their huge fleshy dazzling green leaves looking like artificial plastic plants, they were so new and shiny. Oak apple leaves poked up through the tired brown leaves, opening like umbrellas, dark vibrant greens veined with white.

The fences of the National Zoo Research Center stretched on this side of Rte 522 also, tall wire panels with strong posts and barbs running along the top. Yet nothing was visible on the other side, no animals could be seen. But Rob was convinced he'd see dinosaurs running through, branches snapping in their wake, and the more I stared through the fences, the more I could imagine scenes of Jurassic Park playing out before us.
We had likely only trekked about a couple of miles before my energy and motivation was finally sapped. Rob decided to hike a little further to the ridge but I collapsed on a huge warm rock, conveniently blanketed with moss. Emily decided she'd had enough also and joined me. Rob was only gone about 15 minutes before he returned so we turned about and headed back, the promise of a very late lunch spurring us on.

As we came down the last slope, the green valley stretched out before us, the buildings of the research center empty and quiet, and appearing like an Italian village nestled in the emerald fields. We drove into Front Royal for food and a beer, but for some reason,despite my earlier hunger, I didn't finish my meal or even want a second beer. The Sunday Sloth Syndrome had seriously taken a grip. By the time we returned to Meadow House, we were all yawning and looking forward to a lazy evening. Spring may have ignited Mother Nature into action but it seemed us three were ready for hibernation!