Beat, Tattered and Torn

It often happens that certain possessions become “dear” to us. . We become attached to them sometimes because of how long we’ve had them and often, because of sentimental reasoning. I have items that are important to me because of who previously owned them and the fact that these items were important to them also.

    I have statues in my house that are important because my aunt used to own them. Being a “collector” (some might say “packrat") I have a lot of items that used to belong to my parents and because of that, they will remain in the house for years to come. Some items are just cool in my opinion and that is another reason that they will stick around.  “Oh, it is so difficult to get rid of excess when you’re a “collector”!

    I’d like to tell you about an item that has finally come to the end of its time with me. It has been with me for at least twenty years and my heart aches knowing that its time has come.

    It was picked it up at a book sale at the Shaler North Hills Library. I only paid a couple dollars for it but those dollars were well spent! It is a Delorme Pennsylvania Atlas and Gazetteer. Published in 2003, it has been in my car ever since I bought it.

    Back in 1976, Frank Delorme put together an atlas out of highway, town and county maps. He was dissatisfied with the maps of the Maine woods and wanted something better. His first volume was of Maine and he sold it out of his car. By 1986, his company had risen to 75 employees. The company is now owned by Garmin and it sells electronic maps and devices, but it still produces gazetteers of all the states.

    An interesting fact, the headquarters of the company which use to be in Yarmouth, Maine, has the largest rotating world globe in existence. Called Eartha, it is a little over 41 feet in diameter and completes a turn every 18 minutes.

    Having been in my car for such a long time, the atlas is showing its age. Its pages are pulled apart, only the thicker cover remains whole. After trips, time is always spent returning all the pages back to their proper order. It hurts me to see this volume in such a bad condition but I know that it has served me well!

    I don’t remember what car I had when I first got this. The cars came and went but the Gazetteer remained. I have other gazetteers in the house; there is a pile of them from all the different states I’ve visited. If I’ve been there, chances are there is a Gazetteer for that state in the pile. Though I haven’t been to either Alaska or Hawaii, I have copies of these also, just because they’re fun to look at!

    My relationship with maps goes back into childhood. I can remember looking at the maps printed in my books such as Treasure Island and when reading the encyclopedias we had sitting in the living room.  (Remember those?) I would take my father’s gas station maps and spread them out and follow the roads. I was amazed that I could find places that we had traveled to and the roads we had used to get there.

    When I was a Boy Scout, maps became even more important. Imagine being able to find your way through the woods with only a thin dirt path leading you on. My maps helped me stay on the correct paths using only streams, mountains, cliffs and my trusty compass to guide me. Oh, the possibilities were endless. I used to imagine going from one side of the country to the other, using only hiking trails.

    Maps became even more important once I had a drivers license and the ability to travel extreme distances in hardly any time at all.

    Electronic devices, GPSs are great but in my own opinion, I would much rather use a map to get from place to place. There is no doubt that GPSs can be quite useful, I’ve used them at times, BUT, I still prefer a paper map. I use my GPS for geocaching, it is a handheld unit, it isn’t mounted to my car windshield or dashboard. Having researched the caches, I usually don’t use it until I’m in the near vicinity.

    Looking at my beat up Delorme Atlas, paging through its torn pages, I am taken back in time. There are notes written on the margins, routes that had been highlighted, attractions that had been circled, these all take me back to pleasant memories. Coffee stains share the pages with iron furnaces that I’ve photographed and geocaches that have been found. There are parks and overlooks I’ve visited, these maps are like photographs, bringing back memories. The roads inked on the pages have the ability to remind me of the sights I saw while traveling on them, I’m lucky in the fact that I can picture the roadways my finger is tracing. I hate to think about tossing this book and all its memories, but a new one has been ordered.  There are lots of good atlases available, but the Delorme Gazetteer is one of my favorites.

    These atlases not only show me the past, they also show me the future, the possibilities, the places that we haven’t seen yet, but will someday soon. They offer you immense areas where you can lose yourself. (Even though the basic purpose of a map is to avoid getting lost) Some of the best trips have been to go out and just make turns at random. Our state is filled with neat things to see and hopefully I will continue my explorations for a long while to come. I'm happy to say, my new atlas has just been delivered, and you can be sure I’ll have it along to help me find my way!

     Happy Travels!

Some of the Joys and Sights While Traveling Through Pennsylvania

 It has been six years since my first grandson, Mateo was born. Wow, doesn’t time fly? His birthday was rapidly approaching and Ann Marie and I were going across the state for the party.

    This would provide us with the opportunity to do some exploring. We had a long drive and so, we may as well enjoy the sights and scenery as we went. The planning started a couple weeks beforehand. I looked for accommodations, places to eat and interesting places to stop along the way.

    We left Pittsburgh on Thursday morning. I loaded the car as the sun rose above the trees. We headed east on rt.22. The sky was hazy and the sun soon disappeared from sight. This may have been because of the wildfires in Canada. Still, the weather was nice and we enjoyed the breeze coming through our open windows.

    After our normal stop for coffee and a snack, we turned south on rt.53 for a visit at the Cassandra Railroad Overlook. When the highway was rerouted in 1936, this bridge was bypassed and a foot bridge was placed here for railfans. Railfans from around the country come to watch trains from this bridge. To the SW there is a long straight away of about 2.5 miles, all uphill. On the other side of the bridge, the rails curve to the left and continue on to the tunnels in Gallitzen and then down to the famous Horseshoe Curve above the city of Altoona.

    We watched a couple long freight trains laboring up the hill, seemingly at a crawl. Shortly after, we watched the Amtrak train out of Pittsburgh fly up the hill, probably doing around 60-70 MPH, of course it was pulling only seven cars behind it.

    Our next stop was at Canoe Creek State Park where we took a short hike to view the huge limestone kilns sitting in the woods. These kilns were built in the early 1900’s to provide Pittsburgh steel mills with lime; a very important ingredient in the steel making process. They were shut down around 1915.  

    Since we were in an iron/steel state of mind, our next stop was at the Huntingdon Iron Furnace. This is a beautiful furnace; it has been cleaned up and re-pointed by its owner.  Originally built in 1796 a short distance from the present site, it was rebuilt as a larger furnace in 1805. The furnace stayed in blast until the 1880’s. The area around it is a National Historic District with a variety of original structures still standing and being used.

    We stopped for lunch at Diner 22, about 9 miles west of Huntingdon. This was originally built as a Mail Car for the East Broad Top Railroad in 1919. It was moved to its present location in 1946. The outside doesn’t look like a railcar but it sure does inside. Like most diners we have visited, we were served a good meal by a nice friendly waitress. While we were there, I had a serving of scrapple, a true Pennsylvanian delicacy! We always make an effort to stop at these places when passing by.

    We checked into our motel in Huntingdon, the county seat of Huntingdon County and then went out to explore the area. We visited the library and walked through the town and then went to visit Raystown Lake, the largest lake that is entirely in Pennsylvania, the lake is about 32 miles long! We also did a couple geocaches while we were in the area, of course…  

    We drove up to an overlook to watch the sun set but the overcast skies hid most of it from us.

   The next morning, Friday, we continued our drive east. Whenever the opportunity presented itself we would drive through the towns and avoid the by-passes. Nearing Harrisburg, we ran into a major accident and had to turn around. Unlike the other drivers who were late for work or appointments, or possibly afraid to head out on their own, we headed north rather than follow the posted detour.  We were treated to a nice easy ride through neat, tidy farms and little communities. We enjoyed the views as the road climbed hills and twisted through the valleys.

    When we encountered the Susquehanna River we took rt.15 through Duncannon, an Appalachian Trail town and down through Marysville.  Here we watched a couple trains cross the Rockville Railroad Bridge. According to “some sources” this is the longest stone masonry arch railroad bridge in the world.

    We then stopped at Cupboard Maker Books, situated across the street from the Norfolk and Southern Enola Railroad Yards. This book store is a great place to browse, you never know what you might find here! The front is painted with the spines of various books, just to let you know what’s inside. Filled with new and used books, it also has a variety of cats which are happy to be petted while you visit. We ended up spending about an hour here…just enjoying scanning the shelves and seeing what we could find.

    Our accommodations for the next two nights were in Quakertown. A nice small town with a major highway slipping past a few mile away, the town is nice compared to the shopping centers and car dealerships that line the busy highway. We found a nice Mexican Diner for our breakfast the next morning before we went partying with the family.

    Saturday was spent with the family and friends celebrating Mateo’s birthday. I watched a couple hot air balloons taking off in the morning when I went out searching for coffee. Once again, you never know what you might run into as you’re driving through the countryside! The birthday party was loud and fun, there’s nothing like a party filled with children. Both of us slept well that night!

    After Mass on Sunday morning, we returned for a short visit with the family before leaving. This time, we headed north towards Scranton where we visited the Scranton Iron Furnaces. This group of four furnaces was built between the years of 1848 and 1857. The company produced iron here until 1902 when they dismantled the plant and moved it to Lackawanna, NY, where better ore could be found.

    We stopped for a quick look at the steam engines at the Steamtown National Historic Site. Being veracious readers, Ann Marie and I couldn’t help but like this Reading locomotive!

    We took another break on our journey in Ricketts Glen State Park where we took a short hike down to visit one of the numerous waterfalls in the park. It wasn’t quite as exciting as when we were here last, there wasn’t as much water flowing.

    Eventually we ended up in Towanda. Here we stopped at the Red Rose Diner for some dinner before checking into our motel. There are only three of these diners built by this company still standing. These diners weren’t built as rail cars; they were built to be diners. It is in beautiful shape! Our waitress, Becky was a font of information about Towanda history. We had a pleasant talk with her while our dinners were being made. The town has a quite nice collection of well kept homes along the main street.

    On Monday morning, we stopped at a local coffee house to fuel up and headed back towards the east on rt. 6. We followed the moon as it slowly dropped down to the horizon. This is a very pleasant road to drive on; we hardly encountered any traffic, we passed through lots of small communities, past farms, little businesses and lots of ponds and lakes reflecting the blue sky and the buildings beyond them. None of the haze that was present at the beginning of the trip was evident, just blue skies with puffy white clouds, perfect!

    We arrived back in Pittsburgh around 3:30. We enjoyed the trip tremendously, but we were both happy to be back at our homes. Driving through the smaller towns on the back roads, often introduce you to people who are happy to talk with a stranger. They are more than happy to tell you about their towns and histories. I feel as if we get more smiles as compared to when you stop at high flow businesses where you are “just another face”. The small diners and coffee shops are usually employed by friendly people that are happy that you stopped in, and these are the people I tend to remember.

    We had a wonderful time visiting with the family. We met a lot of nice Pennsylvanians, the weather couldn’t have been better and we found another 19 geocaches on our way. The best part of the trip was that I had such a nice companion along with me; believe me, that sure makes a difference!

    I believe I’ve said this before, no matter how fun the trip is, it is great coming back to your old familiar bed! Like so many quests and adventures go, returning home is often the best part!

The Shadow Transit of Titan

I spent the early morning hours of Sunday watching an event along with three other members of the Amateur Astronomers Association of Pittsburgh. (3AP.org) Using the 115 year old, 11” Brashear Telescope at the Wagman Observatory, John Holtz, Mike Miller, Sean Matoon and I watched as the shadow of Titan, one of Saturn’s moons, crossed onto and across the planet’s surface. These transits occur about every 15 years.

    The astronomy club had two star parties this weekend and after the second one, after the public had departed, we aimed the telescope at Saturn. The seeing was pretty steady, the image wasn’t bouncing around at all and we had no problems increasing the magnification.

    Neptune was sitting within a degree or two of Saturn so we swung the scope over to it while we were waiting for the transit to start. The planet first appeared as a faint blue dot but by increasing the magnification we were able to see it as a round disc. We weren’t able to see any features on it. The shadow of Titan would be about 1/3 the size of Neptune, this could be difficult!

    As Saturn orbits the sun, our view of the planet's rings change. We recently passed through the ring’s plane where the rings appear to us as being edge on. This gives us a quite different view of the planet as to what we are familiar with.

Notesfrom a Reading Addict: Going, Going...

    When the planet is in this orientation, the shadow of Titan, the largest of the planet’s moons, can be observed crossing the planet’s surface. The moon orbits Saturn every 16 days so we have a chance to see this event a couple more times during the next month or two.

    Moving the scope back to Saturn and turning off all the lights in the room, we watched. Titan could be seen sitting below the planet’s rings on the right-hand side. The transit was due to start at 2:25 but we couldn’t see it until 2:30 when John first located it.

    Over the next hour and a half, we watched as the shadow slowly worked it’s way towards the meridian. We experimented with a variety of eyepieces, giving us magnifications between 243 - 939 power! While the viewing at 939X was nice, as would be expected, we opted for a lower power which gave us a much crisper image. We even tried using a binocular viewer which sadly, was difficult to use. It did give me a nice 3-D image of the planet!

    The shadow was dim and I had difficulty seeing it. The other three having much better eyesight could see the shadow much easier.

    We watched it, taking turns at the scope until a bit after 4 when we decided to close things up. Dawn wasn’t far away, our homes seemed even further. I pulled up in front of my house at 5.

    I think it was great seeing this. It is another astronomical event to tuck into my belt. It wasn’t quite as exciting as watching a solar eclipse or watching Mars slip behind the moon but it was right up there with them!

Going Upriver

 We had originally thought that we would spend Sunday afternoon taking a walk in the Strip District. The city was having an “open streets” event, allowing pedestrians and bikers access to the roads without any worry of cars or trucks. We were thinking about walking down to one of our favorite coffee shops and then sitting for awhile watching the people go by.

    The temperatures were getting close to 90 and the humidity seemed even higher than that. Walking in the heat, on the road and then sitting in the sunshine didn’t sound as good as it had the night before. Instead we opted for a car ride. Where? We’d find out when we got there I guess.

    We first ended up in Warrendale at a coffee shop we’ve visited before. Sitting with young families as they ate their Sunday brunches, we discussed where we’d head next. For some reason sunflowers popped into our minds. A farm near Freeport became our next destination.  How hot could that possibly be?

    Of course, we took the back roads. For a while we were on the Orange Belt and then the Red Belt, we followed rt.910 for a bit and eventually ended up above the town of Freeport, right near Harrison Hills Park. Coming down off the hill we encountered a train and slipped onto a back road in the town which led us to the banks of the Allegheny River.

    We pulled over and watched the train cross the river, moving over into the Kiski Junction.

    My father and brother used to have an HO train layout. One of the locations on it was a reproduction of the Kiski Junction. It is here that a railroad on the far side of the river crosses the line that came over from Freeport. The other line passes over the Kiskiminetas River, just before the river joins the Allegheny. This bridge used to be part of the Baker Trail but was closed due to safety reasons. It has just recently been reopened to allow bikers and hikers on the Armstrong Trail to cross the river.

    The last time my brother Ralph was in town, he and I crossed the RR bridge from Freeport and searched for any signs of railroad buildings at the junction. That day will always be a special memory for me!

We dove a bit further, coming to Lock and Dam #5, a short bit above where the Kiski River joins the Allegheny. The town of Schenley which sits across the river, used to have a whiskey distillery where they made “Medicinal Whiskey” during prohibition. The distillery was shut down in 1983. The dam crossing the river provides a wide waterfall, looking both cool and inviting. There were lots of boats on the water, both above and below the dam.

    We stopped at the farm to visit the sunflower fields but a downpour started just as we were pulling into the lot. After waiting a bit, we decided to continue on. Of course, the rain tapered off as we drove away; the roads were covered with mists as the water evaporated off of the hot pavement.

    We headed north-east following Ford City Road which ended up bringing us to the bridge that crosses over into Ford City. Who would have imagined? Our journey took us through farmlands, woods and neighborhoods, there was always something nice to look at. 

    In Ford City, we drove through its neighborhoods and stopped to admire the old (repainted) ghost sign near the center of town. Then we continued on to Kittanning.

    Here we crossed the river again and continued to follow the road alongside it. We passed businesses and a couple buildings that were falling in on themselves; we passed lots of homes and camps with beautiful views of the river. We passed underneath the Pittsburgh and Shawmut Railroad Bridge. This is a very high bridge. A hotel used to sit at the far end called the Bridgeview Hotel. A station sat near-by for hotel visitors.  About 5 years ago Frank and I ended up there on one of our photo-excursions. 

Notesfrom a Reading Addict: Driving To Mosgrove

    We passed two more lock and dams, #’s 7 & 8. We missed #6. There were LOTS of people on the river. It was definitely a day to be out on the water!

    We finally ended up at the now closed Armstrong Power Plant in Reesedale. Beside the plant the only other structure here was a deserted Church sitting amidst a batch of overgrown shrubbery. We only saw a couple cars go by while we were there. The railroad we had been following crosses the river here. It was rusty and overgrown with weeds, seemingly rarely used any more. We decided it was time to head back, this would be the furthest extent of our trip. We were only about 5 miles away from Brady’s Bend. The temptation to visit the overlook was strong, but our stomachs were starting to growl and dinner was waiting for us at home.

    We had no maps with us, Ann Marie was driving in her new car and she had yet to put her maps in it. We were traveling mostly on instinct. It’s not impossible, but I’d have to say it’s hard to get lost in Pennsylvania. Eventually you will run into a major road that will lead you back home.

    We stopped in West Kittanning for a peanut butter ice cream cone and a banana milk shake before we got onto rt.28 and finished our journey. We had experienced sunshine and sparkling waters and we passed through a couple short rainfalls that turned the roads into steam baths. We passed dams and lots of boaters and campers enjoying the riverbanks. We saw a field filled with sunflowers and lots of beautiful Pennsylvania scenery. We returned back home about 4 hours after we left. The humidity was high, as were the temperatures, but the ride and all the sights we saw made it all worthwhile!

Sounds of the Night

 

Sitting on the front porch with my head tipped up towards the sky, I breathe in the cool air. The sun has set and the sky has darkened. After a warm day filled with chores it feels good to sit and relax, to look up at the bright orange star Arcturus and a few stars of the Big Dipper’s handle. The trees are silhouetted by the brightness of the dark sky, a bit of an oxymoron but yet still true here in my suburban neighborhood. My chair is positioned so that it blocks the bright light on my neighbor's front porch but still my yard is illuminated by its glare.

    I had made the mistake of looking over at it when I came outside and I still am seeing a dark blob as I look up at the sky, it's getting better, and I figured in a few minutes my eyesight will be back to normal. Slowly the dark patch shrunk, and more stars appeared.

    A train had just passed below the house. The heavy sounds of the engines preceded the loud, piercing blare of its whistle. Passing behind hills and around the curves of the valley, the noise of the engines was soon lost with only the clanking and squealing of the cars behind. Soon that was also lost as the train moved north. Quiet, if you want to call it that, had returned.

    Fireflies flickered in the evening’s darkness and a few more stars appeared.

    Cars can be heard on the highway, muffled by the distance yet magnified by the silence. Tires whining and building in volume denote trucks, and like the train, are soon lost as they follow the roadway. Above, an airplane splits the darkness of the sky with its flashing lights and a little after, splits the quiet with the noise of its jets.

    A bright spot appears in the western sky, slowly drifting towards the end of the Dipper’s handle. It is the Chinese space station, Taingong. Approximately 250 miles above me it passes without a sound. I turn to watch it drift into the east and am hit once again by my neighbor’s light. Blinded I get up and move to a shadowed spot where I can see the station as it moves past Vega and then through Cygnus. It slips behind the trees and is lost to me. Mentally I wave good-bye to the six astronauts on board, “Until the next time!”

    Sitting back in my chair I look up at the stars again. Nothing is moving but yet, everything above is in motion. Their distance hides the movements from my mere mortal eyes. Watching further, fireflies flicker, adding some perceptible motion to the canvas above me.

    I sit and remember other times I’ve sat under the night sky. The sounds came back; crickets and cicadas in the spring, deer creeping past and snorting when they see me, the howls of coyotes off in the distance, their pups yipping along with their parents. The sounds of a near-by stream as it gurgles in the darkness, a few yards from my tent, soothing me before I bed down. The sound of the snow softly falling on a cold winter night, accompanied by the crunching of each footstep I take. These are some of the many sounds that make you feel one with nature.

    The noise of the cars and trucks on the road has faded into the background, for the most part un-noticed now. The cool air feels good against my bare arms. Somewhere behind me an airplane’s engines announces its presence; I don’t bother turning around to look. Arcturus has slowly drifted closer to the dark tops of the trees and when I look back again, it has dropped behind them, hiding from my gaze. A car door slams and a horn toots as the car doors lock. I can hear my bed calling to me, quietly but yet still noticeably. I ignore it and continue looking up, thinking about the day gone by and about the new day ahead. The night here is far from quiet, but at the same time, it can be so soothing and peaceful!

One Step at a Time

 Out on a drive, visiting some of my favorite photo haunts, I naturally ended up taking a “few” photographs. Looking at them later I saw that a good many of them where of the same subject.

    The haunts I spoke of are places I visit whenever I am in the neighborhood. They are places that have grabbed my attention in the past, something there has stuck in my memory. Mostly, they are pictures that I want to take. It seems simple enough, go and line up the camera and snap the picture… Unfortunately, the many pictures I’ve taken in these places haven’t yet matched what I had envisioned.

    When looking at a scene, I often pre-visualize what I think the picture should look like. Sadly, the pictures in my head and the one on my computer screen or on the negatives are often different. The lighting may be off, the picture may have been taken too far away or too close or maybe the shot isn’t focused as well as it could’ve been. It can be tough meeting the expectations of my mind!

    While looking through the day’s pictures I noticed a trend. There were a lot of pictures of steps.

    Steps have always interested me as subjects for pictures. They take us places and often we pass them by, never finding out where they might lead. The steps can be opportunities; they can raise us up and let us see things we wouldn’t have otherwise. 

    Steps can be just short moves, a course of action that will take us elsewhere. Sometimes they are clear and obvious while at other times, they can be difficult to see and tough to traverse. Taking these steps can sometimes be rough, working our way through weeds and brush that has covered the treads.

    There are many steps we take every day, all through our lives. From getting up in the morning to dragging our sorry butts back again at the end of the day. These are just the physical steps we take, think of all the mental steps and challenges we take on a daily basis. Do we go up the steps or down, or do we just avoid them and tackle other problems, other steps? There are times you don’t know where they will take you and other times, the steps can save you!

    Steps or stairs, we find them everywhere. In our childhood they keep us away from places we want to go. Over time, we learn to overcome these obstacles and work our way, step by step, up and into the future of our lives.

    Back in the past, we crawled up the steps, each step another accomplishment. Bringing with it the pleasure of slipping back down again on our rumps, each tread accompanied with laughter.

    Little did we realize that we would be climbing stairs for the rest of our lives. Some would be a simple inch or two high while others would seem impossible to overcome. These would be the challenges of life, the desire to always achieve something higher.

    As we climb these stairs we occasionally stumble and that’s to be expected, it’s nothing to worry about, it’s all part of the process. We learn from these trips, slips and loss of balance.

    We start on these stairs when we are fresh from the womb. Learning to feed, learning who our families are and learning who loves us and sadly, who might harm us. There are millions upon millions of steps in the staircase which will lead us in the end, to our demise.

    Every morning when we wake up, we face the stairs again. Hopefully we can look at each step we take as a new height, a new accomplishment, a new personal best. By finding something exciting about each stair, every new height, we can fly up the steps.

    Pictures of steps remind me of the many opportunities I’ve passed by. They are a visualization of the tough, difficult journeys and goals I’ve strived for. They also remind me of all the successful attempts I managed to achieve. The pictures remind me to keep going up... one step at a time!

Stay Cool

 The temperature was 89° and it was still more than an hour before noon. I had a book waiting to be picked up at my local library and so, I decided to go over, get my book and soak up some of their air conditioning. On the way, I stopped for a while at one of my favorite spots, Pine Creek.

    There is a section along Bryant Road that has no businesses on it and only one house, almost hidden from sight. It passes a wide field and a section of Pine creek. Depending on the time of year, at times more of the stream is visible than others. The road has an almost roller coaster aspect to it and one spot has a bump that can almost get you airborne. A small swamp sits close by, separated from the stream by a barely used set of railroad tracks. Sometimes it is filled with water and at other times, thick mud. Flowers, shrubs and trees litter it and often herons can be seen sitting in the trees above it waiting for their food to make themselves known.

    Today, with over an hour before noon, I had the place to myself. An occasional car would slip by but mostly, it was only me and the sounds of the water in the stream. I had parked in the shade of a small group of saplings. The stream was calm and images of the hillside behind it were visible on its surface. Further downstream, a row of rocks broke up these images as the water flowed around them, the sounds coming back and providing a soothing backdrop to the hot morning.

    Birds were chirping and insects were exploring the flowers on the weeds edging the water. The sunlight coming through the leaves danced on my lap as I listened to the quiet noises of nature. Watching the stream my eyes got heavy and I soon realized I wasn’t watching anything, I was daydreaming, just enjoying sitting beside the stream and listening.

    Getting out of the car I took a short walk down to where the hillside provided a wide band of shade. The shadows crossed the stream and covered a small beach at a curve in the water. Birds flew back and forth landing on the logs on the far side. The stream beckoned me towards it, tempting as it was, I didn’t want to get my shoes and pants wet.

    I have seen herons here many times and deer frequently gather by the stream. Neither were visible today as I walked along the side. There were no fishermen here either; it was as if I was out in the wilds rather than a few hundred yards from the neighborhood on the top of the hill, located in the outskirts of Pittsburgh.

    Walking into the swamp, I visited there for a short time, the edges of it were soft and my footsteps sank in as I walked. The recent rains had filled it, creating a small lake. The next couple days of high temperatures will do their best to evaporate it once again. The cycle continues. Out of my sight, I could hear a bullfrog croaking. I looked in the trees to see if there were any predators near-by, if there were, I didn’t see them.

    Going back to the car, I watched a doe cross the road and pause to look at me before slipping into the brush and disappearing. Across the field, a hawk slipped of a branch and glided silently overhead.

    My spirits renewed, I started the car and headed over to the library and their “canned” air. Leaving this little bit of nature, I can only hope that it will remain here for years to come. I know many others stop here, to fish, take pictures and to hike. Sadly, there are also those who use spots such as these to drop their trash, lawn clippings and garbage. Luckily, these things happen rarely but they drive a nail through my heart when I see them. The words that come to my mind and flow out of my mouth will remain un-printed here.

    We all need spots of quiet, places to relax, unwind and be cool. This is one of mine; I only hope it remains!

It Started with a Motorcycle Ride

 It was a simple day in May, the weather forecast predicted sunshine, it had all the possibilities of being a beautiful day. I decided that this would be a perfect time to call in sick. I called a good friend and persuaded her to come along with me. Things looked excellent for a ride in the country.

    The day was just as I hoped, sunshine, a beautiful woman hanging onto me, with the wind in our faces. We headed south towards Greene County but in reality, we were going where ever the bike led us.

    I had a Kawasaki KZ400, a 2 cylinder motorcycle. It was brown and shiny, powerful enough to carry a passenger and to handle the highways. It was the first vehicle I ever bought new. It was reliable and treated me well.

    The day passed quickly, to this day I can still remember going past Canonsburg and the Meadows on route 79, and driving along curvy two lane roads past farms and meadows. Yelling at cows we passed and laughing at whatever tickled our fancies.

    All the wonders of the day quickly slipped behind me when I came back home.

    Getting off my bike, a neighbor came across the street enquiring about how I was doing. Curious about his concern I was surprised to hear that my father had been taken by ambulance to the hospital. This hadn’t been the first time this had happened but his tone implied more. Going into the house, my mother informed me that my Dad had passed on earlier in the afternoon.

    I had been on the road, enjoying the sounds and feelings of a motorcycle between my legs. We hadn’t given any thoughts to anything that might be happening back at home, we were out enjoying the day and life. There was no reason for us to worry; there was no difference between that morning and the morning that preceded it. We hadn’t mentioned to anyone where we were going. My mother had presumed that I had gone to work. When she called, they had no idea where I was.

    This was in 1976, long before cell phones and instant and constant communication. I came home to a world that had changed without my even knowing it.

    My father and I weren’t close in those days. There weren’t any serious problems between us other than a boy/man who was growing up and rebelling against the knowledge my father was trying to share with me. I was experiencing new things on my own, the opportunities seemed endless. Perhaps the idea that he was so close to the end of his life while I was so close to the beginning of mine might have played into it.

    Death was no stranger to me; my parents were a lot older than my friend’s moms and dads. My parents’ siblings were older than them and more than a few of their families had passed on. Funerals weren’t unknown to me as a child.

    The families lived far away and so we didn’t visit much. My cousins were older than me and so I didn’t have anyone my age to hang out with during visits. Funerals were boring, sitting in a room with a group of adults I barely knew. It seemed to take us forever to get to the funeral homes, all the while dressed in my uncomfortable “Sunday clothes”.

    Our motorcycle ride in the country that day has stuck with me for decades, almost five of them now. I have held a feeling of guilt ever since that day. There were things I could have done differently. I could have told my mother where I was going, I could have said a proper good-bye to my dad rather than just running out the door like so many times before. I might have been able to be there and help comfort my mother instead of causing her more worry. These and so many other thoughts are something I have to carry with me, this is how it happened and now it’s my burden.

    The saying goes, “You don’t realize what you have until it’s gone”. This is so true. Over the years it becomes more and more evident to so many of us!

Though gone nearly 50 years, my father still lives with me. I see him every spring when the flowers he planted in the yard start to sprout. Looking up at the night sky he is peering over my shoulder, lining up a shot with my camera, he shares the viewfinder. Opening a book to read, it is his example I follow. He taught me so much through example, I learned without even realizing it.

    I remember one time when I attempted to shave his face for him. Infirm, sitting upright in bed with a basin of warm water on his lap, I sat beside him and maneuvered around his unfamiliar face with my un-experienced hands, trying to remove the grey stubble from his cheeks without cutting him. I barely knew how to shave myself let alone anyone else. I didn’t want to cut him because of the blood thinners he was taking. I was afraid both of slipping and of being so close to him. It wasn’t something I wanted to do. I felt as if I was invading his space. I didn’t feel close enough to him to do this personal grooming.

    It was the ignorance of youth. I didn’t realize how important it was or even, how important he was! It is a shame I’ve carried for so long.

My dad, brother Ralph and myself

    If only I had that chance again, to spread shaving cream onto his face, to carefully guide that double edged razor across his cheeks, if only…I’d jump at the chance!

    Instead, I love and remember him fondly and wish I had been wiser in my youth. I imagine this is something many of us wish for, we all learn from our mistakes. Some of them are so much tougher than others.