Visiting Some Bookstores!!

 

 

         I had a doctor’s appointment on Thursday and arrived a bit early. They had requested that I show up only 5 minutes before my appointment. So, with some extra time on my hands, I stopped at the local Barnes and Noble Bookstore to do a quick run through.

          The door was open and the books inside were calling to me. Before I went in, I read the posted notes hanging beside it. They requested that all customers keep a six foot distance from one another and that all customers wear a mask while in the store. I could handle that!

          Inside it pretty much looked the same as the last time I had been there. There were a few carts scattered around with signs asking the patrons to put the books they weren’t going to buy on them. They would disinfect them before returning them to the shelves. I felt a bit self conscious. Was I able to turn a book over to read the back or to pick it up to check on the price and if I did, was I suppose to put it on the cart? I ended up basically walking around with my hands in my pockets. The two or three books I touched I put right back down since I only flipped them over. I hope I didn’t overstep any of the new book protocol. I walked around and looked at the titles, soaking it all in. Then I left to go to the doctor’s appointment.

          After my doctor visit, I stopped at Half Price Books and took a quick look around that store. They also asked that their customers wear a mask and avoid getting too close to each other. Sterilized baskets were standing by the door for our use. A woman came over and asked me to try to limit only one person in any area at the same time. I asked if they had the newest Stephen King book, “If It Bleeds” and she guided me over to a shelf and handed me one of the books. “We just put these out.” She said. I took it and then walked around a bit, stopping to check out the collectable shelves.

It was such a nice feeling reading the various bindings stacked side by side. They had a lot of leather bound books; you know the type, gold lettering, raised bands on the spine, gold edges on the pages and usually a green or red satin ribbon.  I believe they were all Easton Press collections. Their prices were over my spending level. I like having books in good shape that I can read without any fear of marring the fine craftsmanship or creasing a page. (Heaven forbid!) I like to pull a favorite book off the shelf and re-read it every so often. The books on these shelves are not for that, they are for display. Seeing nothing that excited me, I went up to the cashier, (standing behind a sheet of Plexiglas) and bought my book.

          It was such a good feeling to bring a new book home. I have been reading books that were stacked on my “to read” pile and books downloaded for free on my Kindle but now I had a book I wanted to read, one I have been looking forward to reading! When I got home, I took the cover off of it, (to protect it from damage) and opened up to the first page, (ohh, nice crisp pages, sharp edges and the smell of a NEW book!)…and got lost in another reality. Oh what a great feeling!  Excuse me now, I can’t be writing this, I have a book I that needs read!

          On Saturday, two days later, Ann Marie and I returned for a bit longer visit. We both came out with some new books (to us) to add to our collections. I bought a book by Larry McMurty called “Books, A Memoir” (2009) and a book called “Historical Voyage, A Pictorial Review of the Beaver Valley” put out by the Beaver County Times.(2004) There are a couple pictures of Ann Maries family in it.

          I always enjoy books about local history and of course, books about books…it goes without saying! Now, the question is, do I finish the Stephen King book first and then go on to Larry McMurty, or should I mix em up a bit? Yup, I think I’ll do a little of each of them! Spread the wealth. 

 

          You can’t imagine how much I have been looking forward to going back to bookstores. After we left, we drove up to a nursery to get some shrubs for AMB’s house. As we were driving through the countryside and the fresh air it felt as if everything in the world was right. Well…..it felt like it even though we knew better. Getting back into the bookstores is one good thing and I’ll take ANY good thing I can get!

Alongside the Stream

 

                It was a Monday, the shopping had been done and the groceries all put away. The dishes had been washed and were stacked in the drainer. My lunch had been made, the dog fed and walked and now I was on my way to work.

                I stopped at a shaded spot beside a stream and took my notebook and pen and went down to soak in some of the quiet.

                A tree stood alongside the stream with a log wedged against it. The log had been there for a couple years now. I’ve used it as a seat in the past. The tree was wrapped with debris from the last bought of high water. A board was held tight against it with a variety of sticks, weeds, paper and plastic and what looked like straw.

                The straw was wound around the tree. It looked like a bird’s nest, a bumper protecting the trunk. Tight and solid, the high waters have a way of weaving things together.

                A black winged dragonfly landed on a branch, its neon body attracting my attention. Its wings are small compared to the length of its body. They are translucent, like lace, I can see right through them when they are spread.

                I heard a splash in the stream and slowly turned my head. A young deer was standing in the water not 15 feet away. He started, startled by the movement. We looked at each other, neither one moving. Thirty seconds, seeming like minutes, past by and then he slowly backed away, turned and ran up the hill.

                I continued writing and soon heard some snorts. Turning slowly I saw his mother watching me. Standing a bit further away she watched for awhile and then with a final snort, turned and ran after her fawn.

                Beside the stream I was soothed by the sounds of the water flowing over its rocky bed. Tall stems of purple phlox were growing out of the log I was standing beside. The dragon flies showed no fear, chasing each other like children in a playground.

                I could fall asleep here if I had the time, instead I just soaked up the quiet, the solitude and all the peacefulness that nature offered me. Relaxed, I watched as the pollen slowly fell from the trees, dropping through beams of sunlight before gently dropping into the stream below, and all was well!

Mental Health Day

 

 

 

 

                “I have a strong desire to go away, to somewhere where I’ll be alone. It doesn’t have to be for a long time, just a few hours perhaps. Away from any distractions, no pressing requirements, maybe to a lake or a hilltop where I can watch the world revolve.

                I know that if I do this, I won’t be satisfied. I’ll be bored and the time will drag. If I bring paper and pens, nothing will get written. Mostly, I’ll just feel sorry for myself. It has happened before.

                Photo trips, backpacking or camping, I’ll wonder why I’m there. What was my need to come? The answer I was looking for won’t be there.

                I know I should ignore this desire, remove it from my thoughts!

                Instead it gains importance, it requires fulfillment. I should know better but instead I start mentally scanning my maps, thinking about where, where would the perfect place be…”

                It got the best of me, I couldn’t resist. The next day, I took a mental relaxation day from work and after lunch (and a few chores around the house) I got in the car and headed north. My idea was to go and see some countryside, drive through some farmland, find a place to stop and relax and enjoy the scenery.

                On the drive I got tangled up in the commercialism of the North Hills. Store after store, fast food joints and car dealer after car dealer. Then there are the doctors and their offices. They all became a blur, I had to get away. This isn't what I wanted!

                By the time I got to Wexford, I was ready to pull what little hair I have, out! I didn’t want to do it but I jumped on RT79 and increased my speed, leaving all this clutter behind.  In another 15 minutes I was in Portersville and driving past farms and fields.

                A lot of this area was strip mined and is now nicely reforested. The trees are still young but the land is looking much better than it did in the 70’s. I can remember driving up to Moraine State Park and looking at the manmade hills along RT79, so obvious in those days. You can still see the hand of man on the hills and valleys, but it looks rather nice now days.

                My first stop was at a lookout called Cleland Rock, a rarely visited part of McConnells Mill State Park. It overlooks the valley that Slippery Rock Creek flows. Two large Turkey Vultures met me when I pulled up, they were gracious enough to fly away and leave me alone with the view. Perhaps in the fall or the winter I might have been able to see the stream but today the trees hid it nicely.  I sat for a while and wrote a little bit before leaving to go further north. I had gotten an idea.

                A year or so ago on a nice snowy day, Ann Marie and I had attempted to visit an old stone blast furnace. Called the Wilroy Furnace, it is situated just below a campground. We had stopped at the office to inquire if we could go down and photograph the furnace. The lady we talked to was elderly and seemed very protective of the site. She told us that it would be too dangerous to go to it when there was snow and ice on the ground. “Perhaps some other time.”

 The campground now looked deserted.  The grass was well over a foot high. The office windows were dirty and the patio had leaves and dirt blown into its corners. I walked around the office, looking up at the upstairs windows but I saw nothing. There was no car to be seen. The pool was filled with greenish water and weeds climbed up the fence. The place looked abandoned.

                I followed a slight path through the overgrown grass that led down the hill. Large branches from the trees lay in the grass.  At the bottom of the slope was a wide flat area. Some rusted picnic tables were scattered around, the wood on them was broken and laying half off their supports. The wood was covered with leaves and had mold and moss growing on it.

 

                The hillside dropped off dramatically behind the tables and there below them was the furnace.  Looking like a pyramid or an ancient temple it sat at the bottom of the hill. Long grass and a few saplings were growing out of the cracks. It has 3 setbacks, each about 10-12 inches wide.  There were no fallen stones, the three arches were in pristine shape. A pond of stagnant water was situated in front of the furnace, possibly a result of flooding from the stream. The stream could be seen 30-40 yards away.

                At one time, when it was in operation a bridge would have been built from where the picnic tables were over to the top of the furnace. This bridge, called a charging bridge, was used to fuel the furnace and to add the ingredients used to make the iron. The molten iron was removed from the furnace through one of the arches at the bottom. It would flow out through paths cut in the dirt and allowed to cool into ingots, called pigs. These would then be shipped to other places which would re-form them into usable products.

                Someone had been doing some pruning in the past couple months. Several trees had been cut down and there were a few piles of brush around the front of the furnace. It was almost as if the furnace had been put on display. I took some shots from various spots around the furnace and then left.

 

                I drove over to the opposite side of the stream. There are a lot of paths that fishermen use on this side.  I came to a spot where the furnace could be seen easily. The last time I had been here, I could just barely see it through the trees and weeds.

                I can’t help but wonder who owns it now. It is on the National Register of Historical Places. I wonder if it is on the campground property. I saw a couple stakes with pink ribbons on them, maybe it’s being sold or maybe it is being taken over by the state. I can only hope that it will continue to be protected. There is no graffiti on it except for a couple chiseled names, from the 1800’s!

                According to Myron Sharp and William Thomas who wrote a book titled “A Guide to the Old Stone Blast Furnaces in Western Pennsylvania” , the furnace was built around 1854 and went out of blast before 1877.  So, approximately 20 years of service, not bad.  Most furnaces went out of blast because of a lack of iron ore or trees. The trees were used to fuel the furnaces and once they were gone, that spelled the end of the furnace. The town surrounding it usually disappeared soon after, leaving only the stone furnaces and maybe some walls or channels to give any evidence that a community once thrived there.

                Happy with the experience of visiting the furnace site, I pointed my car south and started back towards home. I was thinking about the furnace as I drove along RT19, past farms and meadows. Many of these fields were the product of the strip mining that used to be here. They have changed a lot since the 70’s when I first started coming up here.  A lot has changed as the years go by. I see it every time I go on a trip. I’ll pass an old farm and maybe stop and take a picture of the barn, the ivy growing out of the top of the silo, and think what a nice photogenic scene it is. The next time I go by, a neighborhood of cookie cutter homes has risen in its place.

                I saw it again on this very trip. Coming into Evans City, (I left RT19 in Zelienople to avoid the commercialism ahead) I saw a farm I had always wanted to visit. A bulldozer sat on top of what was left of the barn and the house had all the windows boarded up. Soon it will be a cleared spot of land, probably with a for sale sign posted beside the road.  Another cookie cutter community with some sort of cute name will have taken its place.

                On my drive I passed ten or twenty new neighborhoods, the signs usually from the same developing company. I drove past a field that had been remolded by bulldozers, fresh asphalt roads were being laid across it. The land is just waiting for the throng of carpenters to descend on it to bring another instant neighborhood to life. I know people need a place to live but I hate to see the farms of Pennsylvania disappear because of it. According to an article in Time Magazine, the nation has lost 12,000 farms in the year between 2017 and 2018. Sadly there is more profit in the land than the products the farm grows. Like the iron furnaces, the farms are slowly disappearing also.

                Returning home, I felt refreshed. The Mental Health Day had helped. I got lots of fresh air, looked out over some nice wooded hills, walked through a cool stream and took some nice pictures of old, forgotten industry. Yeah, I did a little bit of bitchin’ and moanin’ on the way but really, it helped. I’m refreshed and ready for whatever the world wants to throw at me next!