I love going to the feed store – mostly because I rarely ever end up there without distracting myself first. Today was no different. I took a long, winding, and nonsensical route to my destination trying to find prime foliage for a nice snap or two. Indeed I got a good look at the mountains but the foliage was pretty dismal. After waiting weeks for it’s late arrival we immediately got rain afterwards… for several days. Now the trees are mostly bare. SIGH. Still, I did manage to find a trail…
I’m struggling to figure where it was exactly but I believe I just found the tail end of the Common Trail off of Grove street. There was a turn off right next to the bridge so I decided to check it out. As usual it was where I needed to be, a serendipitous and joyful experience. It wound close to the river and provided a wonderful flat walk for most of the way.
Rivers have become a source of great spiritual connection for me. Whenever I am down, hesitant, or anxious I seem to serendipitously find a river to play in. There’s nothing like a good river. Today I found a little bench halfway up the path that denoted a sweet little spot to while away the hours. There were some rocks jutting out clear to the middle and I forsook the bench to crawl out upon them. Here I sat with the gurgling of the water blocking out all other noise, the smell of the crisp autumn air mixing with that of the fresh cold water, allowing the sun to kiss my cheek as the water flowed beneath my feet. Nothing else mattered anymore, I was instantly overtaken by a sense of absolute zen.
It has become a custom of mine to splash in the water of any river I come by, reciting the closest thing to a prayer I will ever utter as IÂ bathe my arms and hands in the brisk churning waters. “May you take away all negativity in my life and wash it down stream. May only positivity flow towards me.” Perhaps this is why rivers have gained such spiritual meaning for me. Rivers don’t stop for anything. Whenever they come across an obstacle they still a find a way, making a space for themselves even when there isn’t one. It’s a lesson I try to keep close to my heart as I overcome obstacles in my own life.
I watched the river for probably an hour. No other people came by but a squirrel and a chipmunk did visit for a while and a frog tried to commit suicide darting under my feet in the same second I was stepping down. How he escaped that I don’t know but I nearly took a header into the river trying to avoid crushing the poor little beast!
After I had finished lollygagging I was once again off into the forest, overjoyed with each bend of the river as I took another snap… Sadly I had my camera on the “night” setting and it was a very bright day so much of what I took came out very washed out but it didn’t take away from the beautiful experience I had here. As I walked farther into the forest I started to come across the ruins of something… a bridge? A home? I couldn’t tell but it was jutting out over the embankment, a small upward hike. Before I knew it I was behind the Noone Falls building. Apparently there’s a restaurant there, probably has been forever, but I had no idea. The smell of their food drifted to my nose and immediately made my stomach gurgle and churn! It did smell good! But it was across the river… alas! The trail went on for a little ways and ended in someone’s back yard with a straight shot to another street. I returned to my car. It was a pretty short trail, maybe half a mile, a mile at the very most, but I don’t think it was that far. It was the perfect amount of activity for me as my body has been punishing me hard for everything I do lately. Anything more and I would suffer a pretty bad crash, with this little jaunt I got only the positive – the experience, the joy, the exploration, the thrill of something new, without any of my usual negative consequences. I returned to the car relaxed, joyful, open, and returned home far happier than when I left.
If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!
I am feeling full of myself again. My energy is nearly back and I was delighted to go out today and spend the greatest time scampering along the Maine coastline. In honor of this month’s theme Haunted New England I decided to go in search of a castle ruin. I had found one article online boasting, “Take a hike and see a castle in Maine!” Sounded pleasant, though there were no photos or any real description just the cryptic remark that I could find it in Fort Williams Park. Okaaaay… I knew it was on the coast somewhere and figured it’d be in some quiet out of the way place, perhaps a nice nature trail through the woods to some burned out ruin like 
The park was busy! Wow! And the weather? Freakishly warm. I was wearing a T-shirt while staring at the frigid Maine seashore and I was sweating balls. My calendar says October but mother nature apparently thinks it’s June. I can go with that. I passed by some sort of abandoned building driving in and wondered if that was the castle or part of it. There were so many people but where were they coming from and where were they going? I couldn’t tell so I just started to walk, pretending I knew. I ended up at a beach, a really lovely little beach surrounded on all sides by rocky outcroppings and the remains of an old fort. Beyond the harbor there were two lighthouses. Bonus for me.
The first thing that really caught my curiosity was a decrepit ruin jutting from the rocks and looking very uninviting. Could I scramble over the rocks and get to it? Was I allowed? I decided to try it, all the meanwhile expecting someone to start hollering at me but alas no, this is Maine, where Darwinian population control is encouraged. It turns out it was the remains of an old mine, bolted shut with a metal door. Damn. There’d be no retrieving Lassie’s bones today.
After that I decided to see where some of the actual paths attached to the beach went. I was delighted to find myself outside an old battery. It looked rather castle-like but it was still obviously a fort. However not far away I could see something that looked far more castle like. Third time’s a charm. But first I wanted to go harass some funny looking sea birds so I scrabbled over some more pointy rocks to take a few snaps of them doing their birdy thing. I looked around me and on this jagged seaside cliff there were a few precarious benches. Yep, I’m in Maine.
I came upon the castle from the back and through the little snippet of woods. It made a coy entrance into my life using the trees like a shy bride uses a veil. OK so maybe it was just a burned out stone mansion and not a castle but still I couldn’t help but adore it. Today was awesome. People were awesome. I got asked if I had been here before by an old man. Nope! We sat and chatted for a good fifteen minutes. Poor dear lives in Los Vegas. Pity that. Had a lot of people smile, laugh, and compliment the hair. Apparently orange hair makes me more approachable? Well that’s a relief. Scientific studies seem to think wearing orange makes people more hostile towards you…
I stuck my tongue out at the drone and snapped it’s photo instead. GOTCHYA you buzzing little spy bastard! (Yes, I know, wedding photography, public place, it had a right to be there but still. Drones. UGH.)
Today’s my birthday. It’s also the first day in weeks I have been well enough to leave the house for an excursion longer than grocery shopping. Being cooped up, and feeling myself age like a fine wine, I was desperate for some fresh air. Sadly it was raining… apparently everywhere. I wanted to go to the White Mountains, raining, hike up one of the local mountains, raining, go to Vermont for some foliage photos, raining. I wasn’t going to take no for an answer though, I NEEDED TO GET OUT. 
That’s how I ended up in Mason NH. I had this gut feeling that I’d just know when to turn off. And wow. Despite spending some of my childhood in Mason I know remarkably little about it. There are winding dirt roads everywhere with just stunning views of forest and trees, hills, pastures, farms, huge farm houses, tiny cabins, just such a wonderful diversity! Yep… this was working. This was feeding something in my soul that was starving. It fit in nicely with the music I have taken up listening to once again – a poignant and heady mix of 60’s folk and classic rock. I’m thirty-two years old today and I feel like I can almost see time passing me by. I don’t have a career, a home of my own, a relationship, or children, I blow effortlessly in the breeze like a leaf gliding to the earth. Perhaps that is why I had the ethereal tune of Can’t Find my Way Home whispering through my mind all day. “Well, I’m near the end and I just ain’t got the time
I had looped around a great deal of dirt roads and kept coming back to the 143 so I drove that for a little while until I spotted a big green sign aside the road denoting a historical landmark. As it turns out I had driven to Uncle Sam’s childhood home. I didn’t even know he had any connections to New England. I parked aside the road, took a photo of the sign and the house which was obviously owned by someone who I was hoping wasn’t home and watching, and then meandered only about 50 or 100 feet down the road where I noticed a trail head. Yup, this is where I was supposed to be. I could feel it.
It was cold. And wet. And cloudy. My camera wasn’t happy with any of these conditions but I told it to buck up, we’re doing this thing. It actually turned out to be a sweet little trail! The rain made it all the more magical to me, the damp seemed to add a sense of whimsy. Moss covered rocks lined the path to either side, a few stone walls were scattered throughout likely marking property boundaries from a few hundred years ago, and since it was such a wet day there were salamanders everywhere. They were the bright orange kind you see so frequently here if you’re the kind of person who looks under damp logs which I am.
The salamanders weren’t the only critters out today. I also go to see a number of chipmunks. For being so common they sure are hard to photograph! I feel the aggravation of wildlife photographers as I set my eyes on these tiny fuzzy beasts. They chipped and alerted me to a spot a little off the path which had clearly been used as some dumping ground for spare metal and glass at some point. Pieces of cars and machinery I couldn’t identify scattered the ground next to a rusted out metal wash basin filled with broken glass bottles from God knows when. I inched up to it slowly, hoping it wasn’t an active campsite of someone who was just deranged. Luckily it wasn’t and I took a moment to look at the rust and decay. I smiled knowing nature was taking care of this mess.
Towards the end of the trail was I super happy to find a huge cluster of mushrooms which I think were Hens of the Woods, edible. I am not that ballsy to try my hypothesis but I did enjoy finding them! They smelled delicious – which probably means I’ve misidentified them and can kill a small village with them. That tends to be how these things go… In any event I took a photo of this find next to my shoes to compare them for size.
Today was everything I wanted last Friday to be – absolutely amazing. And all I had to do was wander off while trying to go to the feed store for bunny food. I hardly ever just go out to do errands anymore. Somehow I always manage to find myself falling down the proverbial rabbit hole again.
This place was swank as far as trails go! It had a memorial rock right at the entrance as well as a mailbox full of maps and a guestbook. Whoever left this place must have been loaded – as most of Sharon is. And wow! It was breath taking!
I had thought I was alone you see… I mean who else would be here, there were no cars… and that’s when, bitching vocally to the camera, “Focus damn you!” three people came striding by to see my sorry butt in the air, my slacks sagging (from loss of weight and lack of belt) and my drawers hanging out, standing on all fours on the ground trying to get just the right shot of an adorable mushroom I found. Who knows what they think I was doing, either way everyone avoided eye contact. And not long after that a woman came by with her young son. It was all rather sweet.
The trail went on quite a ways and ended at a little bridge where it connected to another trail that went… .who the hell knows! Another trail off the main one was labeled, “woodland trail” and that one was a loop trail. I didn’t get to explore it but this preserve had a sign saying it was still open in winter for hiking. I suddenly need snowshoes. I thought I’d be cooped up for these cold dark months but maybe not. All the women in my life keep yelling at me – for getting lost, for having too much “bravery” to go charging into strange woods alone, for just generally being adventurous, but you know what? If I get eaten by bears then so be it. At least I died doing something I loved. And besides I have yet to see any bears but now that I said that there will probably be a plague of them on my next little jaunt.
Anyway, this place was soooo pretty and relaxing I would suggest it to anyone. Truly delightful. I am calm once again! Even more so my mind is sparked and enthusiastic. I dream of someday owning a property much like this, hopefully with a river running through it, so I may also create a hiking trail for the public, winding through the woods, past fairy houses placed by local artists, and past my little educational farm and back again. I can see it so clearly and I know in my heart working towards this goal is what I am supposed to be doing with my life – giving back, being joyful, becoming the wild child I always knew I was. Anyway, if that is something you would like to know more about feel free to check out my future farm’s page where I work towards this goal, philosophize, and sell my art: 
Yet again Keene beckoned me to come over and slog through some bureaucratic business, my least favorite thing to do in the world, so I made sure to give myself some time to reward this endeavor with a trip to the fabric store and then an excursion into the middle of nowhere… I guess my intention was to complete my covered bridge tour in the area but that didn’t really go as planned. Instead I found myself yelling at the GPS to shut up as I parked aside the road to explore something unusual I had found near a covered bridge I had already blogged. I wasn’t sure if it was a trailhead or someone’s private property. I was up on Sawyer’s Crossing Road in Swanzy and there was what looked like a turn around where parking was available and stickers in all the surrounding trees reading “Yale Forest.” A closed gate seemed to have a path going around it and another sign read something about no motor vehicles, camping, or fires. I parked Daisy and headed in.
This place was a neat little find! It looked like it had been a road at some point, a paved one, and then it was abandoned and forest took over. I love seeing these sites where civilization gets turned back into wilderness. We always think that progress is a one way street, forever marching forward, but I find time and history have a way of swinging like a pendulum. Clearly this road must have had farms and houses on it on at some point. What happened to them? Why were they now a forest? I had no answers.
Off the road path a little ways there was another turn off and what could have been considered another path. I was feeling a bit brazen and marched into the woods. Eventually I found two yellow dots on various trees, denoting I was in fact on someone’s path, though where it led I had no idea, and it was clear the only people using it were probably deer. It was so quiet and sweet! I walked for quite a ways but it was already getting late in the day and forests have a way of getting dark a lot quicker than the rest of the world, I decided if this were to happen I should at least have the brains to be on the road path – even in the dark I could find my way back to the car from there, so after munching on some delectable wild black berries I turned myself around and walked back to the old decaying pavement.
The forest was awash with life – ferns, mushrooms, trees, odd flowers, lined every side. I was delighted to spend time photographing a great deal of them. I walked and walked until the pavement stopped and then I wondered if I should continue on… I could hear cars so I must be near the end… I continued on and ended up on West Swanzey Road. Of course that was useless to me but it was interesting to see where it came out, just at the Cheshire Horse, a nice equestrian based feed store. I headed back, smiling, laughing, and enjoying the brisk new weather. I came across the first red and orange leaves of the year and noted to myself summer was over. Part of me already started mourning as I was just getting used to the heat and was still loving the sun, but another part of me recognized this summer was amazing and to wish for it to continue might be just a smidge greedy. So instead I opened my arms and yelled, “Welcome Autumn of 2017! Show me what you’ve got!” And I can’t wait. It’s going to be bonkers and so much fun as the world around me turns into a dazzling array of colors. It’s going to be even more amazing to be surrounded by such beauty and weather. I have found I have fallen head over heals in love with New England and cannot wait to make a proper home here some day. As I chase my passions like the wind chases me I have absolute faith good things are coming.
It’s in these small reflective moments I realize just how stagnated the rest of my life was. Now I am out and about, adventuring, mingling, talking to people, pursuing my art, I realize it’s taking more and more to keep me intellectually, spiritually, and emotionally satisfied. It’s been a rush and I wonder if anyone will ever be able to keep up with me now.
Surprisingly there was enough time after 
It was another hot day but luckily I was in a car with air conditioning, which was a nice change. We had been together now for long enough that our happy burbling had gone from the usual pleasantries to discussing in depth only the most fucked up subjects we could think of – like what we thought was normal when we were kids that really wasn’t, what left the deepest psychological scars, and what was rotting behind each white picket fence in the small towns we grew up in. It was all in good fun and I think we were both enjoying it – though I have to wonder if my company is extreme when I keep eliciting gasps of horror. Perhaps next time I will keep nail clippers in the car so that when I flip a nail inside out and get it bleeding I have something a little more appropriate to remedy the situation that a rusty set of needle nose pliers… maybe. 
Anyway, we got stuck in traffic for a bit where I got into a fight with another Prius who would not let me move over into the exit lane I actually needed… but we survived and no one was shot so it’s all good. When we drove up to the fort the tiny parking lot was almost filled to capacity with cars. People were here with their kids and dogs and we could already see a few pieces of the fort and the boat filled harbor it guarded. Unlike 
It was a small property but so lovely to wander I enjoyed snapping photos and Katherine relaxed with the smell of the ocean wafting in. We picked a couple locations to just stand and watch the waters as we talked, not really wanting to leave until it got dark. We outlasted almost everyone there and when there was only one other guy wandering about we managed to scare him off with our frank discussion of birth control. Always nice.
Yesterday I got the wonderful opportunity to go to a farm in Northfield MA and take a bunch of adorable photos of cows, goats, and Vizlas. It was an amazing experience. Totally worth the sunburn! Afterwards I decided I was in the area anyway, might as well drive around…
aside the road. No one was around for miles so I decided what the hell, let’s take a few black and white snaps and maybe poke around a bit. It was a shed, an ordinary shed, filled with ordinary crap you’d normally find in a shed but clearly abandoned for many many years and bizarrely not near any house anywhere. I was slightly concerned I might find a hobo in there but I didn’t, instead I stumbled upon something that made my whole week – it was a river just behind the shed. I decided to explore. I knew this was probably someone’s property but they’d never know and I wouldn’t go far…
Today I decided to check out some prison camp ruins rumored to be in Rutland State Park in Massachusetts. The directions said they were on Prison Camp Road, which was easy enough to remember but what they don’t tell you is the park is FULL of primitive dirt roads going in all directions, most of which the GPS does not recognize, and they aren’t labelled either. So this place was somewhat difficult to find but not too bad. It was a lucky day and the road I needed wasn’t gated off due to seasonal flooding as many were. The prison ruins are visible from the road and since you can only drive five miles an hour without breaking an axle it’s hard to miss.
Hikers who knew where they were going seemed to be using the roads to amble down rather than drive – which is a wonderful idea if you have a map! I drove around for a long time and passed several bridges and rivers and a few rock formations that were just to die for. This place seemed to have it all and we were out in the middle of nowhere. For as peaceful at it was there was also a very wild and untamed sense about it – maybe this was because of the occasional bits and pieces of other ruins that dotted the roads here and there – like a staircase to nowhere which was probably someone’s house at some point in history.
