Sculpture Garden at The Andrea’s Institute for Art – Brookline NH

About a week ago I was asked to do a group trip, which I am not adverse to, that would be somewhat local and appropriate to bring a four year old. So I thought the sculpture garden in Brookline might be the ticket. I had heard there were all sorts of large sculptures nestled in the woods on a series of hiking trails that ranged in severity, with most being “easy.” I had envisioned a college campus with a few winding trails around it.

Part of this group was my mother, whose alarm did not go off, and who spent $2 buying a muffin for breakfast that she first stepped on and then lost entirely. From here the GPS kept freezing and would not accept the address and we got lost from there. I was still pretty chill, just hanging in the back seat with the kiddo, which is something I very rarely do. Sadly the bickering had already started.

When we found the entrance to the sculpture garden it was a dirt road attached to the highway with the saddest little sign directing the way. The parking lot had a few gorgeous metal sculptures, some cars parked from other visitors, and a big old map. It said online I should print my own map so I did… not that it helped… because between the three of us no one could make sense of it. In fact the map I’d printed and the big one in the parking lot didn’t agree on much!

We started walking, ended up on what I think may have been a RV trail, climbing up, up, up and not seeing a damn thing. Everyone’s huffing and puffing and cranky. I’m at a complete loss as to what is going on. When we finally got to the top of the hill we found ourselves in a rat’s nest of insanely ill-marked trails that went off in all directions with colorful arrows pointing in every one of them. Most trails these days are color coded. These tried to be… but both the maps had different colors for the same trail and the trails themselves? Well! You’re walking on the purple, red, blue, green, yellow trail…. or is it white? No, I think it’s all of them. We’re on every trail at once. Absolute chaos. I felt like we might end up in Wonderland, or somewhere worse. Were Muppets changing the arrows every time we passed? Felt like it.

But then we started to see the sculptures. They were in fact littered everywhere and were for the most part marked on the map by color and number – not chronologically, or in any other order we could identify, and the colors seemed to mean absolutely nothing besides, but they were there! Look! Most of them were pretty abstract and not really my thing but a few were really cool like a big steam punk bank vault door just sitting in the woods all mysterious. I also adored two granite hugging couples, some Australian’s concept of a seed, a weird figure in a serpentine pose around a pole, and my favorite of all three beautifully whimsical werewolves made of scrap metal. And we did enjoy ourselves after the bickering settled down but seriously… this isn’t for everyone. If things like insanely poorly marked trails and unreadable maps bug you then perhaps you should make a pass on this. Even the “loop” trails were just big U’s that attached to other big U’s. Not a single complete loop. And the hiking was moderate – there were rocks and hills and slippery leaves. The four year old did great though so I still wouldn’t discount it completely as family fun…  And hey, I did have a good time. Honestly. I think there’s something really cool about art in the woods, even more cool when you can go up to them and touch them, getting a real sense of the artist who made them.


 

 

Quincy Bog – Rumney New Hampshire

So after my little Polar Cave adventure I decided I still had a little time to do something more appropriate for an adult, perhaps a good old fashioned hike into the woods? I had noticed signs coming up for “Quincy Bog” and I’m a bit of a sucker at stopping at bogs, mostly because I know that’s just a fancy word for swamp, and only weird people go to swamps. I love weird people, so off I went!

My GPS led me to some church on the corner. I decided to keep driving, glad I did, because the bog was at the very end of a dead end road. There was a little parking for maybe ten or so cars and there was already an adorable old hippie couple getting off their motorcycle. Told you bogs are for weird people. Anyway! I signed the log book, forgot to look at the map or grab a brochure, and then wandered haplessly into the woods, as one does.

Most bog walks are very short for the simple reason that few people appreciate wading through leech infested waters. This bog however was set up really nicely. Instead of one tiny path leading to the water’s edge there was a boardwalk constructed through much of it allowing you to really see this body of water in all its glory and it was beautiful, the most beautiful swamp I have ever seen. I was really digging it until some woman caught up with me and wouldn’t pass me. She was making some sort of clicking noise, I think trying to lure out a woodpecker or something, but it was starting to irritate me. I turned off on the “Point” trail and went up until a fallen tree made me think I should go back the way I came, which I did, by this time having lost the clicking woman.

Along the way I heard hundreds of bullfrogs but wasn’t able to see them. I did spot a family of ducklings and the biggest garter snake I have ever seen in my life. The scenery was spectacular and decorated with the buzzing of dozens of dragon flies. Oddly enough there wasn’t a single mosquito out there. It was a really sweet quiet walk. Eventually it started to get dark and since I didn’t know if this was a loop trail or not I headed back, meeting up with the old hippie couple again which I bantered with a few moments speculating on the stone wall out there. They told me it was probably shorter to keep walking the way I was going but I just felt better going backwards and seeing familiar sights since I had twenty minutes until five PM, which is normally when the forests get dark (and damn do they get DARK!) I looked at the map after getting out of there and I had made it a little past half way… perhaps someday I shall go back and do the rest!

This was a wonderful find. It was a gorgeous easy going walk, a lot of wildlife, not that many people. I would definitely suggest it for those who like more offbeat little trips.

 


 

 

Thumbs Up and Harriskat Trail Loop – Hancock NH

I finally got out on a little adventure today! I had tried to do so last weekend but I ended up driving by a lot of really crowded trail heads and noping my way home, not that there’s anything wrong with popular trails, I have just been in a very introverted mood these past few weeks. I wanted somewhere to go where I could really commune with nature and boy did I find the jackpot today! I found a gorgeous loop trail out in the middle of nowhere that was an introvert’s wet dream. Seriously. Ample parking, an adjoined center, and not a goddamn soul up there even though there were four cars parked there when I drove in.

I was a bit worried this trail was going to be a bit too much. I have been struggling this spring getting my body to comply with my wishes and am disastrously out of shape besides. I did some reading online and it said this trail was 4.9 miles and went to a mountain summit. It was considered “moderate” difficulty but in the reviews there was a family bragging their six year old made it up and back in two and a half hours. Surely, I could beat a six year old, no? I might even cry less. In any event I set out for this challenge.

The trail is located adjacent to the Harris Center which is where parking is provided. It was amazingly well marked. You’d have to be some sort of speshul to wander off it. And at first it’s all very lax and easy going, pretty flat, going the perfect pace for me. This trail allows dogs so I assume it’d be great for that. I was startled right off the bat with the serenity of this place. Usually when I go on these trails I can still hear or see cars going by down below. Not here, the farther into the woods I got the quieter it became until all I could hear were the pitter patter of chipmunks, a few mourning doves beating the tar out of each other, and my own heart beat. It was the sort of blissful silence I was looking for! Serendipity!

The trail starts out very flat and stays that way for quite a while, winding past a little bench area that looks over a lovely little pond that’s just filled to the brim with wee fish. Then it becomes very not flat, so if you’re not in for a bit of a work out from there I say just enjoy the pond and scurry back, otherwise you’re in for a climb. I had to take four breaks going up but I think if I were a normal person I probably could have handled it. When I got to the summit I must admit it was…. meh. It wasn’t nearly as beautiful as the trail itself! And I somehow walked past the second summit without even seeing it, so there was that…

Still, this was everything I wanted out of today. I got to see some tiny wildlife – even some sort of hornet laying eggs in the bark of a tree, I witnessed some sort of territorial dispute between the local dove community (and whoever thinks doves are peaceful creatures are out of their cotton picking minds) and saw an abundance of plant life. In fact I can’t wait to return in the fall when all the trees are colorful! Double points autumn is also mushroom season, triple points there are a bunch of other trails nearby. This was like a little slice of heaven! Highly recommended for the hiker who likes a moderate challenge and few other travelers to bug ’em.(Speaking of bugs this is my one and only complaint – I was nearly sucked dry by mosquitoes on this trail but I suppose… it is the season!)

 

 

 

The Flume Gorge – Lincoln New Hampshire

Between my body not getting the hint it’s go time, and a bunch of issues at home, I have been severely pokey in getting this year’s traveling started, but today I took my first little road trip of the season, and it was goddamn amazing!

I had decided to go to the Flume Gorge in the spring, before the tourist rush and also when all the water from the melting snow is whooshing down the mountains. I asked my mother if she wanted to go and after a bit of convincing she relented. She was sick on Mother’s Day so this was what I had decided to do with her to make up for it. We were slow getting out, getting into the car around 1PM, and then requiring several stops. I typed in the address wrong and after two hours of driving realized I was still forty minutes away. Could we make it in time?? Yes we could! We got there around 4PM, after mother had smuggled a gas station sandwich into the car while I was filling my tank. It was an egg salad sandwich, which you’d think would be a gamble at a gas station… but it was bizarrely great and much needed.

Tickets to the Flume Gorge cost us $16 per adult, unlike most the trails I go on which are in the middle of nowhere and absolutely free. That’s OK, it was well worth it! I guess my mother had been there before, during peak tourist season, and she didn’t remember much of it. This time around, being the spring, we had almost the whole trail to ourselves and it was gorgeous! The water was lively as we walked over numerous bridges to see see different vantage points. There were a few signs along the trail highlighting various features. A good portion of the trail is on a trellis going over the water and in between two rock walls. It makes for a stunning viewpoint, a brisk amount of exercise, and the sound! I can’t tell you how amazing the sound was! As the water rushed by it echoed against the rocks and became louder and louder until you could almost hear nothing else. I felt so alive! And there were a few beautiful waterfalls, one of which sprayed us with a cool and refreshing mist.

I won’t lie, for a first outing this was a bit extreme. It was three hours of driving to get there and much of the trail was steep, either going up hill or up stairs. Still, being as empty as it was we both could take our time and we had a great day. This was one of the most scenic places I have been so far and well worth the visit! The only complaint I have is that my camera hates taking photos in direct sunlight so a good deal of my snaps came out washed out. I still have to learn how to muck with the lighting setting to avoid this in the future. But with that being said I had a fantastic belated Mother’s Day celebration with my #1 mom, who I took a number of adorable photos of but I am fairly certain she’d kill me if I posted them here.

 

Old Woods Trail: Melting Snow Edition Rindge NH

Today Mother Nature decided to bless us with 48 degree weather and a light drizzling rain which did a fantastic job of blanketing the town in dragon’s breath and washing a good deal of snow away. I figured it was the perfect time go out for a little walk, take a few spring snaps, and just enjoy myself. I’ve been cooped up in the house all winter, my health clubbing the crap out of me on the slightest whim, and cabin fever has made me more than a little anxious to return to the woods. So that’s what I did, I took my camera, slung it over my shoulder, and returned to a familiar haunt – The Old Woods Trail in the Betsy Foskett Wildlife Preserve in Rindge NH. Today I hoped to capture the strange and eerie feel it had to it since being clouded in mist.

I had wanted to take a trip out here in the winter, after a good blizzard, but I just didn’t have it in me. It’s just as well. It seems as if snow had been plowed into the entrance, hiding it behind a giant snow bank. That’s never stopped me before and it didn’t stop me today, although if this is a trail you’d like to check out I don’t suggest doing so in the winter. The trail is poorly marked!

I heard the water rushing by before I got that far. All this melting snow had added a liveliness to the pond’s tributaries. And the smell! There’s no fresher scent on this earth than the smell of freshly melting snow. It tickled all my senses and gave me such joy. It appears I was one of only two visitors in the recent past, unless I feel like counting all the dog tracks I found. I think it’s kind of sweet these dogs migrate to a path their owners probably walked them down whenever they escape their own confines. The wildlife was clearly used to their cold weather privacy as I seemed to have accidentally startled a gaggle of Canadian geese who honked loudly and upset a duck on the other side of the pond who quacked back just as angrily.

I was eager today to play with both my cameras, my cute little starter camera – Olympus XZ-1, has a filter on it called “Dramatic” that makes gloomy rainy days like this look spectacular like my trip to the Wachussett Dam in Clinton MA last year. My more professional camera, a Nikkon D5000 had recently found itself a new friend,  an af-s micro nikkor 40mm macro lens. Now I could take fantastically detailed close-ups of interesting mosses, plants, mushrooms, and bugs! In addition to this I have been playing with Black and White photography. I was never one for putting all my eggs in one basket…

I made it maybe halfway down the path before my body decided to slam me. Just because mentally I am ready to be out running for the hills doesn’t mean the rest of me agrees. I begrudgingly headed back home before even reaching the stone wall I was so intent on visiting. Oh well, there will be other rainy days when I will return! For now I am at peace with what I could accomplish. It feels like going home to be back on the trails!


Worcester’s Possibly Salacious “Turtle Boy” Statue

I lived not far from Worcester for a few years and always heard these faint whisperings about the city’s unofficial mascot, something that had caused so much local speculation that it continues to divide the innocent from the cynical. Officially it’s called the Burnside Fountain which is topped with a statue titled Boy and Turtle. Colloquially it is often referred to as just Turtle Boy. It is a piece of art so contentious in its form and so muddled in its creation that it leaves audience both scratching their head and giggling. One of my deepest regrets of moving out of the area was the fact I never found the time to see the inspiration for so many lewd jokes, unsolicited commentary, and less than honorable mentions. When I found myself once again in Worcester helping a friend run errands I knew what I had to do. I had to find Turtle Boy.

I’ve seen photos online but nothing quite brings it home like seeing it in person from all sides. It leaves little to the imagination, which is a bit shocking considering it’s a publicly displayed piece of art adorning the park in downtown Worcester. The more Puritanical residents maintain that it depicts a boy riding a turtle and is supposed to imbibe, “innocence, joy, and rebirth.” Those of us less adept at cognitive dissonance are of the opinion that it depicts a far less savory subject matter. In fact in online forums it’s gotten some notoriety as “The Turtle-Fucking Boy” where one local has gone so far as to call it Worcester’s unofficial monument to bestiality. This is a life-size piece and if you visit it you can look the turtle directly in it’s anguished face. As one internet commenter lamented, “That is not the face of consent.”

While visiting it I couldn’t help but melt into a puddle of my former twelve year self, giggling, and pointing, and yelling. “OH MY GOD!” No matter how you decide to look at it, and what it may or may not depict, you can’t help but wonder whhhhhhy does it even exist?! The story of Turtle Boy is a long one, filled with gaping holes of knowledge, that will leave even the most adept historian deeply unsatisfied. On the other hand, if you’re one for a sideways glance and a bit of dry humor, it could make for an entertaining read so here it goes:

Samuel Burnside was a well known lawyer in the town of Worcester whose family became quite well respected for their humanitarian efforts. After his death his daughter Elizabeth Burnside gave $5,000 to the city to create a drinking fountain in his memory. It was 1905 and the purpose of the fountain was not to satiate the needs of humans but rather to keep local horses and dogs well hydrated on their rounds. The water bowls on the basin are made in two heights for the ease of these beasts of burden. What Elizabeth probably neglected to mention as she was commissioning this work was that it really oughtn’t depict anything particularly racy, in case, God forbid, her father’s memory be forever linked to the carnal lust of one teenage boy for sea turtles…

The fountain was designed by Henry Bacon, the same guy who later went on to make the Lincoln Memorial in Washington DC, but the bronze atop of it was left to Charles Y Harvey who enthusiastically took the job believing it’d be his masterpiece. And that’s where this story takes a delightfully dark New England turn. You see he only got to work on his masterpiece for approximately a week before he claimed to hear voices commanding him to kill himself. Some claim these voices came from the work itself, perhaps even from the traumatized turtle’s defiant beak. And on January 27, 1912 he was found on the banks of the Bronx river having slashed his own throat open with a razor. He did not survive. Sherry Fry was then asked to finish the piece, “According to Harvey’s original design.”And so he did. Or didn’t. It’s really hard to say because I can’t for the life of me envision anyone sculpting a scene of such vibrant turtle rape. Personally my suspicion lays on him – did he in fact create the vision of Charles Y Harvey, which could have been deeply disturbed to begin with, or did he apply some less than proper poetic justice for some other reason? Perhaps he knew Harvey, or the guy the fountain was dedicated to, and wanted to embarrass them after their deaths or maybe he was pulling and elaborate stunt on the city of Worcester. Or maybe it was some sort of inside joke… in the end it doesn’t matter because everyone involved in the project still managed to get the statue set up and displayed to the public but there are more than just a few rumblings to suggest that they too saw what we see today – one such clue is the fact the statue never had a public ceremony when it was installed. Instead they probably put it up in the dark of night and left it there to see what would happen. People may have whispered and muttered but the statue was allowed to stay and in fact started to work its way into local folklore. It even was moved once to a more populous location and was even stolen in 1972 by unknown vandals who later returned it.

It’s an uncomfortable work and an even more confusing story behind it. Perhaps this is why it’s not only dry and out of use it’s also rotting without any plans on restoring it. After one hundred years it still stands, oddly victorious, sending some sort of message to someone… but we’ll likely never what that message was or to whom it was meant for.

And to end my little story here is me – unable to maintain a straight face as I pose with the strangest monument I have yet to see.


A Quick Winter Update and a Reminder Spring is Coming!

So I admit I didn’t get out much this winter but I still have been busy figuring out what to do with spring once it gets here. I have scheduled myself to visit more ruins, castles, haunted places, light houses, quirky one-of-a-kind mom and pop shops, perhaps a few farms, as well as more nature trails and museums. Who knows, I might even indulge in another passion – food! And to add to the excitement I am expanding to my repertoire of photos and writing with my very first video! I am hoping future videos will include interviews with more interesting local personalities, or at least with more subject matter than just me blathering on! ENJOY!

If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider donating to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on and sharing my adventures with you!


Acadia National Park – Bar Harbor Maine

 

 

2017-10-1621_17_30_previewAcadia is one of my favorite places to go. The park is enormous and has something to offer everyone. It has hiking trails of all levels and capabilities for the athletic among us but it also has a variety of stunning views you can either see directly out your car window or very easily access. If that’s not enough to tempt you there’s also a number of beaches both rocky and sandy and a few other attractions that lure the curious.

2017-10-1622_26_53_previewI have been to Acadia two or three times already, always off season, and I didn’t pay anything to get in because of this, but I guess I was either too early this year or they changed their policy. Some of the park remained free – like the drive up Cadillac Mountain, but by the time I got close to Thunderhole I approached a toll gate and had to fork over $25 for a week’s pass. That’s OK though, it was worth it.

2017-10-1622_35_23_previewThis visit was a short one as I was busy socializing for most fo the day and only arrived at 2PM but I still packed a lot into a few hours! I especially wanted to drive to the summit of Cadillac Mountain to get a few nice foliage photos and enjoy the fresh mountain air. I was shocked how many people were here! But I guess when the weather is a freakish 70-some-odd degrees people are more likely to come out and enjoy nature at its finest. I stopped at several points to take a few snaps and enjoyed the summit as well as the Overlook at Blue Hill the most as far as the mountain went. I ended up shuffling out onto the bare rocks at the summit and enjoyed a bit of time just soaking in the view – which included all the colorful trees I could wish for, a delightful pond, a few islands off the coast, and unseasonably blue skies. It was hard not to stay here forever. Unlike many parks Acadia is open 24/7 all year long…. Obviously this means I must return once more… at night. The view must be amazing then! I wonder if you can hear loons or if wolves exist in the park…

22520125_10212711999409188_2363148457676078679_oAnyway, that flight of fancy erased from my mind I continued onwards, driving back down the mountain. On my way I had to stop the car to let a deer pass and took a shot out my car window of a second that was staring at me from a few feet away. I got one good snap before another car barreled by in the travel lane scaring them both off.

2017-10-1622_54_06_preview I wanted to see Thunderhole – which is this rock formation at the coast that makes a thunderous noise when the waves from the ocean rush through it. I have been told about it for years from all sorts of relatives ad friends and had yet to check it out… but first I passed Sand Beach, the main sandy beach in the park, and had to get out to amble for a bit. It was low tide. I had never been here during low tide. I must say all the exposed rocks gave it extra character! There wasn’t too many people there at this time of day, or year, certainly no polar bear swimming club to be seen, but there were a few families playing with nerf balls and kites. I’m surprised there weren’t any dogs – as they are allowed in the park.

After Sand Beach I came across something called Otter Point. Apparently Maine has sea otters. There were probably fifteen photographers here, all piled up in different points just waiting around.

“What going on here?”

“Otters.” I giggled, winking at a strange woman who was laughing with me. “They must be waiting for otters! I don’t see any, do you?”

“No…….”

2017-10-1623_13_33_previewTruth be told these people were probably all here to take advantage of the sunset which was closing in soon. It was a good vantage point for that – though not the best conditions today. It was a bit gray out.

After this I FINALLY found Thunderhole! I parked at the  gift shop, which was afforded no electricity of any kind, and made my way towards the crowd across the street. Here there were railings out onto the rocks so I scrambled down, wondering if I would hear anything at low tide. As it turns out the rocks were making a little noise, not much, but enough to placate me. I took a short video. The day after this my great uncle told me there’s a louder more impressive Thunderhole somewhere else nearby that doesn’t have railings. Apparently several tourists a year get swept out to sea trying to find it. This didn’t deter me. Now I want to go back and find it!

Thunderhole was pretty neat but there was still the tiniest bit of daylight left so I was off to see what else I could see. I ended up at a small unmarked beach that was littered with shells, piles of seaweed, and a bunch of tiny tide pools that were alive with barnacles, snails, shrimp, and probably a number of other little sea bugs. There were two people here, a woman scouring the dry sands at the top of the beach and a man staring intently into the tide pools. I wondered what they were searching for so I asked the woman who was close to me. She was picking up tiny pieces of sea glass to make a novelty travel vial out of. She said being a national park you’re not supposed to take rocks or shells or anything natural so she decided sea glass would be best. I felt no remorse for the three tiny rocks in my pocket – one brilliantly orange, one dark red, one green. I made no mention of the two little shells in the other pocket. They were two amongst millions. I felt no guilt about kidnapping them whatsoever. Besides I am pretty sure the dude was searching for something besides sea glass. Was he a rock hound? Or searching for clams? I’ll never know because he was way too far off to ask. By now the sun had gone down to the point that scouring the beach or looking for other overlooks was pretty pointless so I headed home. It was however a gorgeous day and I had a whole lot of fun.

<strong> 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!


 

 

 

Pack Monadnock Auto Road – Peterborough NH

DSC_0008Well! I must admit October has been rough for me, and it always is, if I’m to be honest. As much as I wanted to do a TON of traveling this month my body keeps slamming me. My last little jaunt into the woods, which wasn’t far at all, laid me up for two days afterwards, and although I feel great today I knew I shouldn’t be pushing it. That’s why instead of hiking up Pack Monadnock like I’d prefer I instead decided to be a total sissy and drive the auto road, taking my foliage photos mostly from the parking lot. That being said I had a blast!

DSC_0014Right off the bat I had the guy at the toll gate laughing at me as I handed over my four dollars (I summarized my desire to just drive up to the summit for a few snaps, but I guess in a humorous way. I often have no idea I’m being funny but that’s the joy of life, isn’t it?) From there the drive up the mountain was one long groan coming from the Prius. If that car could talk it’d be screaming, “WHHHHY?! JUST WHHHHHY WOULD YOU DRIVE ME UP A MOUNTAIN?!” Because Daisy is still laid up. That’s why.  When I finally reached the parking lot the place was packed! I found one space at the very end and like a pro parked the worst I have ever parked in my life. You know the kind of parking an old lady would do while plowing through someone’s front porch… This happens every time I know I am being watched by strangers. I couldn’t save face so I just hopped out and owned it. “WOW, why do I suck so bad at this?! Let me try again!” I was guided in by a nice hippie gentleman who I conversed with for a few minutes. I gave him the impression I was young and new at driving, though not intentionally. My way of not dying of embarrassment I suppose.

From here I skipped about trying to figure out why I was here. I saw someone trying to take a selfie and debated whether I should interrupt and ask if he’d like me to take a photo. I decided since I’d have to cut across the parking lot to do so this might be a little socially aggressive. Next time though… totally crashing the selfie party…

DSC_0017I was a bit sad to find visibility today was really poor even though the foliage wasn’t half bad. Figuring that out I decided to check out some trails. The trails were scattered and strange. Immediately, while I was still a bit skittish from parking, a group of college kids asked me if I could take their photo. I obliged and they complimented me on my T-shirts and hair. I smiled and said thank you and had I not been totally overstimulated in that moment maybe I would have held a slightly longer conversation with them but alas! My mind was drawing blanks, a lot of them. It does that.

DSC_0010From here I made my way to the little observation spot that was set up for birds of prey. There was a big grease board denoting which birds had been seen today. I had no idea we had so many damn varieties of hawks. No wonder those little SOBs were so problematic when I had chickens! There were three sightings of eagles today. I had seen my last one a couple weeks ago while driving around Mason somewhere so I knew they were still in the area. People seemed kind of grumpy and bored here so I wandered off to where the vibes were better. I went down a few trails here and there, following some red dots, and got a few more little views. It was a nice mountain and the foliage was great but the visibility today was piss-poor. Too much humidity clouding up around the trees! Ah well, I did try.

After seeing everything I could see trailwise I headed up the stairs to the observatory. I was surprised there wasn’t an additional fee for this. As I was climbing up what felt like rickety stairs (though I’m sure they weren’t) I suddenly realized heights didn’t really bother me anymore. They used to. I wonder when that changed! I did however get a smidge tipsy when the wind kicked up. It whipped through that open observatory and blew my top shirt off my shoulders. SIGH. I took a few snaps and I got to see a completely different view of Mount Monadnock situated in the distance.

I wasn’t up there long. Maybe 45 minutes, an hour, but it was the perfect little outing for today. Just perfect.

 

<strong> 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!


 

 

North Cemetery – McCoy Road Sharon NH

DSC_0812Once I got to the feed store I decided to take an equally ridiculous route home. That’s how I ended up in Sharon, a town I had no real reason to be in. As I drove down some beautiful rural streets I noticed a cemetery smack dab in the middle of nowhere. (My GPS claimed it was 80 McCoy Road. I just discovered the “Where am I?” button and am bouncing with delight at that one!) And when I say smack dab in the middle of nowhere I mean it. It was a small cemetery surrounded on all sides with forest, contained within the boundaries of a stone wall. From afar it didn’t look that interesting – very typical marble stones from the 1800’s. White marble ages poorly and that’s why I tend not to have any interest in them but it is still October and I did promise more spooky places so off I went.

DSC_0805There was a little white gate facing the road. It wasn’t open but there were no locks on it either. There was also no markers telling me which cemetery this was but Google figured that one out for me. I opened the little gate and walked in. There wasn’t much to see at first, this was a small cemetery of maybe 100-150 stones, none drew me to them but the feeling of this place was surreal. It was like I was walking into a bubble where time was lost. The stones here had once been repaired, a few split in half were fused back together with supports and propped back up, but even this effort seemed to have been a long time ago. Moss grew over the supports. This place felt utterly forgotten. That’s when I noticed something weird. Off to the side of the cemetery, past a little stone wall, there were new plots and they were really new. It was if most of the cemetery was the 1850’s or so and then 2017. Hmmm. I headed over to check them out.

DSC_0814These new stones were scattered like confetti on the grounds. They faced all directions and made no sense what-so-ever. Stranger still were the stones themselves. While most were rather ordinary there were a lot that were… odd. The most normal of which was a very modern stone with a modern etching of a lighthouse, a beach, and an old Studebaker driving down the road in front of it. It read, “On the road again.” That just made me shiver a bit. Why had I approached this one stone in particular while trying to take photos for a travel blog? A message from beyond… perhaps. Or just a coincidence. The next stone however was even more startling.DSC_0815 It was on the very edge of the cemetery and didn’t even look like a gravestone, it looked more like building debris. It was raw cut granite, very raw, with the tool marks used to quarry it still visible. It also had an engraving… of a mouse or a rat. I’ve seen a lot of gravestones and many of them have remembrances of cats and dogs on them, sometimes horses or birds, but this is the first mouse/rat and it belonged to an old couple. I might expect to see this on a young Goth’s stone, you know someone who died in the 90’s at age 25, but an elderly couple?! This seemed to be another possible message from beyond… as I used to breed fancy rats and mice many years ago. They brought me such joy I had often joked about getting one as a tattoo or memorializing them on a cemetery stone. I smiled. I liked these people, whoever they were.

DSC_0816Back in the old part of the cemetery I noticed a bizarre corner that seemed more confetti-like than the rest. I noticed those stones were also new and even had a bench overlooking them. They seemed even more raw than the rat/mouse stone. In fact one of them appeared to just be a rock that was already in the area, engraved thusly. Here there were a whole row of educators, scientists, mathematicians, and a few house wives scattered between them, though one was very sweet in stating, “Wife, mother, and a great woman.” She wasn’t going to be left out with the three descriptions! This also made me smile. I bet you these were some damn interesting people. At the very back another natural rock was affixed with a plaque remembering “the angel woman.” I wondered what this meant…

JDSC_0827ust as I was leaving I noticed two stones which had been scrubbed clean. They were from the 1800’s and had been so thoroughly cleaned up they looked brand new. I wondered why these two stones? Before I reached the car I also found a tiny orange grub-like caterpillar. I tried taking a photo but he seemed incensed I was trying to handle him , rolled into a hedgehog ball, and clenched all his tiny feet together. There was no unrolling him.

I left the graveyard feeling so reassured in life. It was odd but beautiful. Perhaps someday I will have an equally curious stone. Google says there’s another older graveyard not far away… guess I  know what I need to see now!

 

<strong> 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!


 

 

Proudly powered by WordPress | Theme: Baskerville 2 by Anders Noren.

Up ↑