Welcome Back

I was officially welcomed back to Evanston this morning by my old friend Lake Michigan...

For those of you who have missed these sunrises as much as I have, I'm happy to say that I'll likely be sharing quite a few with you in the weeks to come.

School starts a week from tomorrow, the dreaded pool audition is a week from today, I've come up $6000 short of NU's estimated student budget, and I'm too heavy to be accepted in any military band auditions that may come up...SO...I've hit the ground running and have been trying to ready myself for these challenges as effectively as possible.

While stopping in for a Subway dinner on the drive home from Ithaca, I noticed this phrase on the back of a young man's t-shirt: "The pain of discipline is far less than the pain of regret." I traced the quote back to Australian olympic synchronized swimmer Sarah Bombell and have it copied out on a typing-paper sized poster now hanging on my dresser mirror.

Now, the times in my life I've been criticized for a lack of discipline have been few and far between. In fact, I've more often been criticized for having too much. I've been told by teachers, colleagues, bosses, friends, and family that I should just relax a little now and then...have a little more fun...or (a direct quote from a beloved former teacher), "maybe you should drink a little more or something." I agree, I can be a bit rigid at times--especially when it comes to issues surrounding sleep, finances, and personal practice time--but these areas of my life are also balanced out by others where I struggle with a lack of self control and a bit of down right laziness. In order for me to survive this year, I'm going to have to reign in some of that leniency and curb my most blatant indulgences in things like chocolate (on which I can spend anywhere between $3 and $6 per day--no kidding) and general maintenance of my health.

One big reason is that until I'm 35 I'll be eligible to enlist in a military band (an important career option), but only if I can get myself into the acceptable weight range for my height. I'm 5'7"so that means I have to lose 20 lbs off my current 178 to qualify. I could do what many (including me), have done in the past and just wait till there's a viable audition to shed the pounds, but I figure I might as well make my life a little easier and do the job at a more reasonable and sustainable-in-the-long-term pace. Plus, I should end up saving a pile of $$$ by quitting my usual "dessert" habits.

So, here and now you are my witness: I am officially STARTING TODAY (well, actually I started yesterday) and I'll log my progress here on the blog from time to time. Wish me luck...

Ithaca Flood Tour

After being overwhelmed by the sight of a swollen Fall Creek yesterday morning, I thought it would be fun for Rob and me to visit our other favorite waterfalls in the area to see how exaggerated their flows had become after the storm.

We began at Ithaca Falls.

Rob used to live about a block from this lovely falls and we've visited it many times in the past. Here's a picture he took of me standing in front of the giant cascade a couple years ago. Yes, I promise, I am in the photo...look to the lower right...

Impressive right? Well, Ithaca Falls is also created by Fall Creek and is located not too far below the rushing madness on the Cornell campus I showed you yesterday. I'm sure you understand why this falls was first on our list!

You can see the falls from the road and as we drove over the bridge towards the parking lot we caught a brief but tantalizing glimpse of the raging torrent through the trees. We parked the car and started walking back toward the bridge. Even though the waterfall is set pretty far back in the gorge, our clothes were already being dampened by a fine windy mist in the air.

When we attempted to enter the park and take our usual route up to the base of the falls we were stopped dead in our tracks by a tremendous flood coursing through the gorge at a terrifying pace. The entire area had been inundated.

We couldn't get close enough to glimpse any of the falls this way, so we turned back to see how good the view was from the road. Unfortunately, we were never able to see more than 1/3 of Ithaca falls, but with a little use of the imagination, could recreate within our minds the full fury of the scene.

Next stop, Taughannock.

Here's a shot I took from the overlook 2 years ago...

And here's what we saw from the same spot yesterday...

With its elegantly translucent bridal veil thickened and muddied by the flood, it was easy to see how such a flow could have carved out its gorge over the ages. Indeed, when I got home and started looking through past photos I noticed something interesting. The first time Rob and I visited Taughannock, I was struck by one particularly geometric shale formation just to the right of the falls.

Now that I've seen many such formations I am less surprised by them, but at the time I was completely bewildered by the nearly perfect 90 degree angles cut into the rock face.

Here's the same spot taken this past December. Notice any changes?

And here is yesterday's shot. Different again, yes?

"GEOLOGIC TIME IS NOW."

When you encounter a sign that cautions passers by to watch for falling rocks...believe it!

Lastly, we drove back up to Cornell so Rob could get a good look at the scene I'd observed on the footbridge that morning. We had just enough time to watch a few gigantic dead trees fall over the menacing precipice before we had to head back home for Obama's address. I was lucky enough to film one of them on its way to a spectacular destruction...

Flood Warning

When I planned an extended summer stay in mid-state New York, the last thing I expected to have to deal with was extreme tropical weather, but a couple weeks ago the blustery tailings of hurricane Irene moved through and for the past couple days we've been soaked by the inland remains of tropical storm Lee.

Yesterday the local news was all aflutter announcing flood warnings, school closures, and evacuations in the surrounding counties, but (though we'd been dealing with a leaky ceiling at Rob's--I've discovered that a single drip of water can function surprisingly well as a metronome) it seemed at first that Ithaca would be spared the worst of it. When I woke up this morning and heard from Rob that Cornell had cancelled classes due to flood danger and that the Tompkins County Sheriff had closed county roads for all but emergency travel, I could scarcely believe my ears. I've heard of snow days, but rain days?

Normally I would have taken the bus in to Cornell at 8:05 am for my morning warm up, but with all the closures I was faced with an abrupt change of plans and decided it would be interesting to get out and explore. I wondered if I'd run into blockades of cop cars enforcing the street closures, if I'd find roads of running water, or if I'd reach a place along my route where a flooded stream would prevent me from continuing further.

I ate a quick breakfast and set out in the direction of the Cornell campus (about 3 miles from Rob's apt.) armed with my trusty Nikon and a cell phone in case of emergency. This neighborhood is snaked with little streamlets and in a few places those typically friendly backyard meanderings had swelled to engulf yards, gardens, and tool sheds...

...but on the whole, life seemed to be going by fairly business-as-usual. Despite a county-wide travel ban, the normal morning traffic was building up (minus the buses) and I (foolishly perhaps) found myself a bit disappointed that nothing seemed to be too far out of the ordinary.

As I neared Cornell, I took a detour in order to photograph a sculpture I'd always been curious about...

Why does a school whose mascot is "Big Red" have a giant purple sculpture at the entrance to its campus? Shouldn't this thing be at NU--home of "purple pride"?

My planned destination for the morning was the main auto bridge that crosses Fall Creek Gorge just south of Beebe Lake and leads into the heart of Cornell's campus. From there I would be able to get a decent look at the status of Fall Creek (which was supposedly nearing flood stage) and hopefully head for home with a few good photos. As I neared the bridge I noticed the air above the gorge was filled with a misty spray, and an increasingly gravelly roar made me cock my head and wonder if there was some sort of heavy construction taking place down there.

Heavy construction? No. Insane debris-filled torrent of angry flood waters? A DEFINITE YES! To give you a sense of perspective, here is a of borrowed photo that shows what this area usually looks like...

Beebe lake lies just beyond the dam and on most days picturesque trickles of water gently cascade over the steps of the dam on their way back down the gorge. A little foot bridge gives pedestrians this romantic view and--as now seems inevitable--a few have even begun to leave love locks along the railing.

And here's what this same area looked like this morning...

Take a second to examine the bottle neck of falling water at the bottom of the picture below (again not my photo)...

Now imagine all this water trying to fight its through that narrow little chasm...

Frightening!

Here are a couple of videos I took to help you picture the madness of it all...

Suddenly these love locks look a little less romantic...more like they're just hanging on for dear life!

I exhausted my camera's batteries on a few more pictures and then turned back for home. By the time I arrived at Rob's again the sun was shining and I was sweating through my shirt from the heat and humidity.

Starry Night

I was in a creative mood today and got to thinking about engraving again. I had a blank brass oval laying around collecting dust so I decided to pull out my tools and see what I could come up with.

I'd been thinking for a while about using many lines created by different graver sizes side by side--winding around almost on top of one another to create a somewhat impressionistic effect. Specifically, I wanted to see how close I could get to make an engraving that could mimic in spirit the rich, intense, and animated brush strokes of Vincent Van Gogh.

And since one should always have a telescope close at hand on a clear starry night, I thought I'd add my own little astronomical flare to the original scene...

Here is the finished plate. A little rough around the edges maybe--and certainly nothing more than a shadow of the original masterpiece--but hopefully fun none the less.

Scrabble Art

By now, most of you may have heard that Rob and I are fans of word games. We're crossword buffs and scrabble nuts and frequently pass our time together either collaborating on a NY Times puzzle or butting heads in a vicious scrabble match. Last night we were in the mood for the latter and after dinner sat down on the bed with the colorful grid set up between us to duke it out.

We're pretty equally matched as opponents--I don't think either one of us has ever been more than 2 games ahead of the other and we've each had our fair share of "bingos" (when one is able to play all 7 letters in a single turn and is given a cleverness bonus of 50 points) and fairly regularly score above 300 (the number of points one must achieve to edge onto the respectable side of Scrabble play).

Our last couple of games had been somewhat slow--very low scoring for both of us with frequent annoying "hands" of letters (for instance: ending up drawing 4 Us--when all you really need is an E--and then being unable to get rid of them all for 5 turns)--and I was eager for some excitement. So, when I played a bingo on my second turn I knew it was going to be a great game...

Then, during the next few turns something spectacular and beautiful began to occur. First I need to make sure you understand the following scrabble strategy--which I'm sure you do--but I'm just covering my bases because it was actually a long time until I finally figured out you could play words this way. I know, I know...yes, I'm blushing.

So, one great way to rack up scrabble points is to play words immediately parallel to one another by creating strings of two letter words. For instance, if I were REALLY lucky, and had the proper letters, on my next turn I could play "OFFERED" right off the "DOOR" section of "TRAPDOOR" by making the words "DO," "OF," "OF," and "RE." Not only would I get 50 additional points for another bingo, I'd also get the regular points from all 5 of the words I'd just created. Here is the official list of 2-letter words accepted by the National Scrabble Association as legal plays in the game. If you can memorize these (along with a comparable list of "Q" words that don't require a "U") you're set for rackin' up some serious points.

Anyway, check out this beautiful string of parallel plays...

I finally decided to take a photo of the board when Rob nailed that corner triple-word.

I've personally never seen a series of plays quite like this. I almost wonder if the two of us just got so carried away by the constructive novelty of it all that we kept trying to build the words in a continually ascending diagonal just to see how long we could keep it up. Still, with each consecutive play we both continued to insist that these little word bundles were our highest scoring options. It's true...having every word land on a double or triple-word-score square is pretty awesome in and of itself.

But the best part is...the pattern kept going in the opposite direction!

And finally, after a momentary (and pointilliscious) diversion of "LEGS," we reached the spectacular end of the line...

Ok...I know...I'm a TOTAL nerd (perhaps more so because I seem to think that you will find this as beautiful as I did), but I couldn't get over how cool this series of plays had been. I've never seen a scrabble board like this. It is almost sculptural...the way the two "pinwheel blades" almost seem to rotate about the "X" on the center line...and how they are almost mirrored by the smaller pinwheel of "ZING" and "LEGS" on the left...simply gorgeous!

The game ended fairly well for both of us.

I achieved a personal-all-time-high score of 355 and though Rob didn't quite make 300 he did get pretty darn close with a more than respectable 294. And besides, as Rob reminded me after we finished, if I hadn't lucked out with that first bingo I would have only won by 11 points.

Art in Nature

Yesterday afternoon I desperately needed to get out of the house. I thought it would be fun to explore some new territory so I googled a few possibilities and then drove out to Meyers Park in south Lansing. Located on the eastern shore of Cayuga Lake--right at the first knuckle of the giant finger--it is home to a marina and camping area and offers superb lake-side views for picnicers and one of the loveliest swimming areas I know of.

The water was clear, calm, and surprisingly warm. It had been a hot day so I rolled up my pants legs and waded slowly into the shallows. Little schools of tiny fish darted about--so well camouflaged as to be almost invisible above the brown pebbly bottom. I looked around and was overwhelmed by the idyllic scene surrounding me...

As is frequently my habit I looked down toward my feet as they scuffled over the algae-covered rocks below me. I noticed a beautiful piece of succulent lake flora floating by...

...and marveled at all the tiny white mussel shells that peppered the ground surrounding the stones. When I noticed a particularly interesting piece of water-carved shale I brought it to the surface and started rubbing away some of the algae. After only a little effort the slimy booger-green skin gave way to a lusciously dark red-brown surface. I put it back in the water and the stone gleamed. Almost black against its surroundings it looked like a work of art.

I suddenly remembered an incredible documentary I'd seen a few years ago about artist Andy Goldsworthy entitled Rivers and Tides. Goldsworthy uses nature herself as his medium as he wanders the countryside looking for ways to manipulate colored leaves, stones, native vegetation, and even ice into beautiful natural sculptures that remain intact anywhere from a few seconds to a few weeks. Indeed, the temporary nature of his creations is often key to their unique appeal. Here's a link to a short excerpt from the film that poignantly illustrates the beauty and fragility of his work.

Inspired by the memory of the film I decided to try my hand at a little nature art myself. To be sure my constructions are like children's scribbles when compared with Goldsworthy's work, but I had a tremendous amount of fun putting them together and definitely enjoyed having an excuse to wade around in Cayuga's luxuriant waters for a little over an hour.

Here are some of the results...

I'm calling this last one "self portrait with camera" even though I didn't notice my reflection in the water until I got home and looked over the photos (oops!)...

Herbs of the Ancients

Yesterday evening Rob and I visited Cornell's Botanical Garden. The visitor's center had already closed and except for the occasional jogger we were basically the only two people there. I spent some time doing my usual photography experiments--this time tending to be most fascinated by the broad-leaved tropical plants adorning the walkway to the visitor's center...

One of the main attractions of the garden is its vast collection of herbs. Within a well-kept enclosure the plants are arranged according to use or significance in human history: bee herbs, culinary herbs, dye herbs, economic herbs, fragrant herbs, herbs in literature, medicinal herbs, herbs of native Americans, ornamental herbs, sacred herbs, tea herbs, savory seed herbs, salad and potherbs, edible flowers, and--my favorite--Herbs of the Ancients.

There were far too many in the latter category for me to share them all, but here are three that caught my particular attention...

Dittany of Crete*

"Ancient Greeks believed eating the leaves of this wooly oregano helped to expel arrow tips."

*I've since looked into this one a bit further and it looks like this plant was probably mislabeled. I believe this is actually a variety of nightshade--a highly toxic herb that has had a variety of sinister, medicinal, and even cosmetic uses throughout history. The variety of nightshade called "Belladonna" was used for a time by women to dilate their pupils--a feature once considered attractive.

When I looked up Dittany of Crete, here's a picture of what actually came up...sorry for the misinformation...

Greater Periwinkle

"Prescribed by Dioscorides to treat flux, it was also used against snakes, wild beasts, poison, envy, and terror."

Pink-Flowered Garden Sage

"In Italian Folklore, each leaf was believed to hide a toad."

No toads here--at least not that I could find--though when you get a good look at the rough and warty texture of the leaves it's easy to see how such a tale might have come about.

Plan B

"Betwixt the Lake Ontario and Erie, there is a vast prodigious Cadence of Water which falls down after a surprising and astonishing manner, insomuch that the Universe does not afford its Parallel. 'Tis true, Italy and Suedeland boast of some such Things; but we may well say they are but sorry Patterns, when compared to this of which we now speak...

"...At the foot of the horrible Precipice we meet with the River Niagara, which is not above half a quarter of a League broad, but is wonderfully deep in some places...

"...It is so rapid above this Descent, that it violently hurries down the Wild Beasts while endeavoring to pass it, to feed on the other side; they not being able to withstand the force of its Current, which inevitably casts them down headlong above Six hundred foot."

--Father Louis Hennepin, 1678

If Father Hennepin, in his wondrous account of Niagara Falls, meant that animals swept over its crest fall over 600 feet into the waters below, I'm sorry to say that's a bit of a tall tale. However, a certain amount of poetic license may be more than justified in this case if one is expected get the full feeling of this place. Somehow it doesn't seem enough just to say that 100,000 cubic feet of water fall 176 feet every second off the combined lengths of Horseshoe and American Falls...though that statistic by itself is almost unfathomable.

To really communicate what it feels like to stand so near such a force of nature you've got to throw in some plummeting wildlife and add a few extra hundred feet of height, because the thought of anyone underestimating such a spectacle...

...seems almost sinful.

Of course, the falls has in fact experienced its share of plummeting wildlife...if you count humans in the tally that is. This daring lady, Anna Edson Taylor, was the first to go over intentionally...

...and in July of 1960 this 7 year old kid, Roger Woodward, went over the edge in nothing but his swimming suit after a boat he was in capsized above the Horseshoe. He SURVIVED and was rescued by the crew of one of the Maid of the Mist barges that perpetually float tourists up into the powerful spray of the Falls.

So, by this point I'll bet you're wondering how I ended up at Niagara Falls in the first place. Well, after our failed attempt to attend Bill Nye's lecture I spontaneously suggested to Rob that we could visit Niagara Falls instead. To my surprise he was game, and in less than an hour we were on the road.

How's THAT for a plan B!

I was a little worried that the place would be so obnoxiously touristy as to spoil the beauty of the falls, and there was plenty of that to be sure.

With the American side clogged with glitzy hotels edged right up against the parkland and the Canadian side lit up with Vegas-style casinos, it appeared that any intent to uphold park designer Frederick Olmstead's original vision of the place (see poster at right) currently exists almost exclusively on park placards inside the movie theater. Maybe if they keep advertising the sentiment it will eventually come true.

I was reminded of Edward Abbey's dislike of National Parks (see a previous post about him HERE)--his feelings that they just meant perpetual development in and therefore destruction of the very lands they sought to "preserve". He felt that great natural monuments should remain completely undeveloped and available only to those who could muster gumption enough to venture bravely and carefully into their wild interiors. I'm not quite so militant in my views about preservation--I think it's wonderful that many people are able to more easily access some of our nation's most beautiful natural areas through the park system--but I couldn't help but wince just a little at Niagara's overwhelmingly touristy ambiance.

Still, I should come down off my high horse 'cause I couldn't quite resist taking advantage of the park's offerings either.

The Maid of the Mist for example...Rob and I were both in agreement that we couldn't leave without trying on one of those awesome blue ponchos and venturing out underneath the thundering cascade. Here's where I'm going to mostly stop talking for a while and let you sit back to enjoy some pics...

I'm thinking, "Man I'm hot...no really...It's roasting in here!"

And we're off!

Oooo...Ahhh...

...Wait a sec...where's all that wind coming from...AHHHHH!!!

...did we just get transported to Antarctica?

Oh man...my lens is all wet.

Oooo look... a rainbow! I sure hope these pictures turn out...

So much for staying dry. Guess I should have tied my hood on...

Looking back toward American Falls, Rainbow Bridge, and the towering observation deck...

Oh man...here we go again!

This guy's havin' a grand old time! Wait...is that water coming on deck...

Home again, home again...

So, the sign says all this foam floating away from the falls is natural...a swirling meringue of decaying plant tannins and calcium carbonate...

Yum?

Wait...did you just say you want to do that again? Maybe next year, ok...

And here is what our voyage into the mist would have looked like to the hundreds of spectators clustered around the rim of the falls...

***Note to future travelers to Niagara Falls: Yes, the Maid of the Mist is worth the $13.50...there's a good reason it's been in operation since 1846!

And if you're still looking to get wet again when you're done (and on this particular day we weren't) go ahead and don another stylin' poncho and take a walk through the Cave of the Winds...looks like it's a BLAST...literally...

After having a picnic dinner along the river's edge Rob and I walked over to Goat Island to get a closer...well, at least a drier look at Bridal Veil and Horseshoe Falls. The clear light of the setting sun shone through Bridal Veil and illuminated a carpet of grassy green plants beneath its rushing cascade...

...and as we neared the Crest of Horseshoe, a tower of mist rose like smoke from the gorge.

As the sun set behind a skyline of expensive hotels and high-rise casinos, the light set the scene afire...

...and in the fading glow of evening we posed for a couple of obligatory romantic photos to commemorate our impulsive adventure. And NO...we did not buy t-shirts!

What a sunset, eh?