Thursday, October 26, 2006
But When Does He Sleep?
This is nothing to brag about, but when I slog through the New York Times Book Review each Sunday…and Monday…and Tuesday, collecting titles to add to the never-ending list of books I won’t live long enough to read, I always skip reviews of poetry volumes. I know I’ll never want to read them. Why, then, do I get such pleasure from going to Garrison Keillor’s The Writer’s Almanac in which he daily reprints one poem and word-paints brief portraits of artists born on that date? Isn’t it enough that Keillor entertains millions with his weekly radio show, his sweet and witty re-creations of life the way it's supposed to be lived and loved, and writes books and magazine columns? Where does he get the energy to do this NPR poetry almanac every day? And where does he find all these delightfully accessible poems? He featured one of my favorite writers, speakers, and inhabitants of the natural world, Diane Ackerman, and her poem School Prayer on October 7, 2006. In response to her poem, this picture of the red rock country near Sedona, Arizona is my reminder of what we have been given.
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
Discover the River, Part 1
On a recent crisp fall day, a brief break in the endless rain of the last few weeks, Ralph and I went down to Charlotte to walk along the newest section of the trail along the Genesee River. It is a long, curving boardwalk that stretches across a section of the river where it widens into the marsh. Check out this map to see the access point off Boxart Street for this part of the river walkway (red line, #1). The area was nearly deserted except for a couple of dogwalkers and construction workers putting the finishing touches on the railings. I expected more walkers or joggers seeking peace and solitude. Leaving the boardwalk, you continue northward through the woods toward the grand new structure that has replaced the Stutson Street liftbridge. A canopy of sassafras, aspen, and maples has dropped a yellow brick road of leaves on the wide paved path. We hope to explore every section of the trail in the coming weeks. More pictures here.
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
Fast Forward
There’s something vaguely reassuring in the knowledge that this autumn another generation is walking out into the apple orchard, sitting on a bale of hay, carrying home the best pumpkin. This is Eric some 35 years ago, and now he’s the father of Coco and Felix seen here in similar poses.
Saturday, October 14, 2006
Stone Piles
Inukshuk/inuksuit/inukhuk/inukhut, but sometimes pronounced inutsuk, are seen all over the Pacific Northwest on banners, in giftshops, or informally along rocky beaches. When the pile of stones is built to resemble a human figure, it is an inunguak or inunnguaq. Whatever their form or precise name, they are all representations of signposts erected in the past by Inuit to designate wildlife hunting grounds, good harbors, or other landmarks on wide-open and featureless territory. They can consist of a few stones piled up, or they can have pointing horizontal features to serve as directional markers. Recreating these piles is a popular pastime among children and adults, as these children are doing outside the Anthropology Museum in Vancouver. The most famous contemporary one, The Inukshuk by Alvin Kanak of Rankin Inlet, stands along English Bay in Vancouver. Its design has been incorporated into the logo for the 2010 Winter Olympics to be held in Vancouver.
Friday, October 13, 2006
For John
At our Elderhostel in Nanaimo, as always, we met a lot of intriguing and even inspirational fellow travelers. John D. has inhabited the life our Eric may once have envisioned: public health consultant all over the world in places as exotic and anxiety-inducing as Yemen and Pakistan. Closer to home, he helped us refine our Personal Vancouver Tourist Guide, based on his credentials as native-born and occasional visitor, since that was our next stop after Nanaimo. On his advice, we had dinner on our first evening at the Sequoia Grill, on the edge of expansive Stanley Park and a perfect spot for viewing the setting sun. The food was unsurpassed in our dining experience, the glass gazebo created beautiful reflections, and I actually got up from the table a couple of times to go outside and grab a sunset shot. Our menu choices:
Teahouse Mushrooms stuffed with crab, shrimp, and mascarpone
Digby Scallops pan-seared with English pea puree and mint beurre blanc
Bouillabaisse in tomato and fennel broth with rouille
Wild B.C. Salmon, maple-marinated and cedar plank roasted
Thursday, October 12, 2006
Good Guides
As we travel, whether to cities or to museums, Ralph and I often ask ourselves whether we can learn or enjoy ourselves as much if we act as our own guides rather than joining a tour. Before we arrive at our destination, we usually have a full list of must-see highlights we’ve tracked down during Internet exploration or from personal recommendations. On our most recent trip, we felt the power of well-informed, humorous, or charismatic guides, including Barbara at the University of British Columbia Museum of Anthropology, “K-Girl” for the Underground Tour in Seattle, and curator Paul Hayes Tucker via acoustiguide at the Experience Music Project art exhibit Double Take, and it’s hard to imagine that we could have come away with so much understanding of the various topics without them. Donna, the naturalist who took us by ferry to Newcastle Island, one of the scores of islands that dot the Strait of Georgia and Puget Sound between Vancouver and Seattle, was a particularly talented teacher, with all sorts of interactive games and visual aids to keep us interested. Ralph and I had tromped through a forest on our own a few days before and had remarked that except for the very tall and straight cedars and moss on branches instead of lichen, it looked a lot like our temperate rain forests of the Northeast. Uh, guess again. Without Donna, we would have trudged right past the hill of 20,000 thatching ants, a beautiful but shockingly invasive plant, tree stumps whose bark keeps growing right over the top to form something out of The Hobbit, and salal, leathery greenery so plentiful that First Nation members harvest it by the railroad car-load for the florist industry. My advice for now is Always Take the Tour.
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
Moon Festival
Many west coast cities have Asian gardens, reflecting their immigration history, and each garden has its own charm. The one that captured my heart was the Dr. Sun Yat-Sen Memorial Garden in Vancouver, British Columbia. It turned out that the day we were planning to visit was the Moon Festival celebration with musicians, moon cakes, fortune telling, and a full day’s schedule of arts demonstrations. But the attraction is definitely the garden itself. Everywhere the eye rests there is a special combination of architecture, rocks, water, pathways, and windows opening on more arrangements of the same elements. Everything was brought from China, from the pebbles and rock fragments that make up the mosaic paths to the rocks reminiscent of the steep, craggy mountains we see in Chinese scroll paintings, and the effect is an exaggerated and idealized Chinese landscape in miniature. Each window is slightly different, each tree is placed intentionally to provide a reflection in the pond, and the water has special clay added to make it just opaque enough to enhance those reflections. Although there were many visitors in a space no bigger than many people’s front yards, the little side paths and vistas in every direction made it seem spacious. I couldn’t stop taking pictures, as you can see in this gallery.
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
Harvest Ritual
Thank goodness for the pumpkin patches that dot the landscape, at least in the northern half of the United States, in September and October. Otherwise, most of our children probably wouldn’t grasp the concept of agriculture. Our extended family doesn’t get too involved with Halloween hoopla except for cool, mostly handmade, costumes. Oops, enter Matt, with a reputation for quirky and just-this-side-of-good-taste home decoration. We will want pictures of this year’s effort, of course. In the meantime, Felix keeps changing his mind about his preferred Halloween disguise, fortunately before and not after I started on the triceratops costume. Close call. I’ve always wanted to make one of those Anne Geddes baby flower fairy outfits, and now I have our Coco. I should probably do that before she gets old enough to assert herself.