#Cherry Hill East walk out

[neptnzz]

The Scripture of the City:

'All cities are born of solid light. Such is my city, his city.

'But then the light subsides, revealing the bright and terrible angel of Veloth. He is in his pre-chimerical form, demonic VEHK, gaunt and pale and beautiful, skin stretched painfully thin on bird's bones, feathered serpents encircling his arms. His wings are spread out behind him, their red and yellow ends like razors in the sun. The wispy mass of his fire hair floats as if underwater, milky in the nimbus of light that crowns his head. His presence is undeniable, the awe too much to bear.

'This is God's city, different from others. Cities from foreign countries put their denizens to sleep and walk to the star-wounded East to pay homage to me. The capital of the northern men, crusty with eon's ice, bows before Vivec the city, me it together.

'Self-thought streets rush through tunnel blood. I have rebuilt myself. Hyper eyed signposts along my traffic arm, soon to be an inner sea. My body is crawling with all gathered to see me rising up like a monolithic instrument of pleasure. My spine is the main road to the city that I am. Countless transactions are taking place in veins and catwalks and the roaming, roaming, roaming, as they roam over and through and add to me. There are temples erected along the hollow of my skull and I will ever wear them as a crown. Walk across the lips of God.

'They add new doors to me and I become effortlessly trans-immortal with the comings and goings and the stride-heat of the market where I am traded for, yell of the children hear them play, scoffed at, amused, desired, paid for in native coin, new minted with my face on one side and my city-body on the other. I stare with each new window. Soon I am a million-eyed insect dreaming.

'Red-sparking war trumpets sound like cattle in the ribcage of shuffling transit. The heretics are destroyed on the plaza knees. I flood over into the hills, houses rising like a rash, and I never scratch. Cities are the antidotes to hunting.

'I raise lanterns to light my hollows, lend wax to the thousands the candlesticks that bear my name again and again, the name innumerable, shutting in, mantra and priest, god-city, filling every corner with the naming name, wheeled, circling, running river language giggling with footfalls mating, selling, stealing, searching, and worry not ye who walk with me. This is the flowering scheme of the Aurbis. This is the promise of the PSJJJ: egg, image, man, god, city, state. I serve and am served. I am made of wire and string and mortar and I accede my own precedent, world without am.'

The ending of the words is ALMSIVI.

The Thirty-Six Lessons of Vivec, Sermon Twenty-Five

song: soooo - cherry blossom drops, burning spring

[mikem-dawnm-japan]

Saturday 18th May - Day 12

This morning we visited three UNESCO World Heritage Sites, all of which were temples. Having visited a number of countries with very many temples I expected today to become ‘templed out’! However, happily each temple was very different to the others the main downside of today was that it was Saturday and so many local families were also visiting the sites, everywhere was very busy. The month of May is also extremely popular for school trips and we are certainly finding this to be so!

Kinkaku-Ji Temple was our first stop, this site is also known as the Golden Pavilion, this richly decorated temple is beautiful. This site is a zen-Buddhist temple close to Kyoto, it was originally designated as a holiday villa for the shogun Ashikaga Yoshimitzu in 1397. The temple has three levels, the first is the noble peoples style, it is open in style, the second is in the samurai style and the top is in the Buddhist style. The second and third stories are covered in 200,000 gold leaves. The gardens are very beautiful, in the centre and surrounding the temple is the Kyoko-chi pond also called the mirror pond.

Our second visit was to the rock garden of the Ryoanji Temple. Originally the temple was an aristocrats villa which was converted into a Zen temple in 1450. The rock garden is a piece of cultural heritage, the deceptively simple garden consists of 15 rocks spread out on white sand. The rocks are supposed to be arranged so that at no point can you see all 15 rocks at the same time, however it is possible to view them all in one go, if you look carefully!

The final site was the Kiyomizu-Dera Temple. Founded in AD778, the most famous feature of the temple is its wooden veranda, standing 13 metres above the ground. From the veranda there is a good view of the many maple and cherry trees which look stunning in their autumn colours. It is also known as the Pure Water Temple and was founded on the site of the Otowa Waterfall in the wooded hills in the east of Kyoto. Due to the 15 minute uphill walk in the heat we decided not to visit this site but instead to remain around the shops and restaurants. We took the time to enjoy some local food, stick tempura in the following flavours; pumpkin & sweet potato, cuttlefish & cheese … they were interesting! We followed these with a delicious chocolate ice cream .. they do ice cream very well here and then a beer to wash it down.

Back on the bus and we headed for a traditional tea ceremony, something that most of us were looking forward to although with some apprehension about having the matcha tea. The tea house was enormous and was the most beautiful wooden building with very pretty, traditional gardens. Inside the tea house was a large shrine and low tables and chairs were set out for us all along with the tea making equipment, we had, of course removed our shoes before entering the building. We were introduced to our host and another lady who would be the guest for the ceremony, they guided us through the ceremony, which can take up to 3 or 4 hours, there is a strict procedure to be carried out and it takes a number of years to learn how to conduct these ceremonies correctly. Once we had observed and tasted their tea it was time to make our own, which we all did and tried to follow the procedure. Some people enjoyed the taste but I think that the majority found it too bitter for their tastes. However, it was an interesting experience to learn about. We drove on to Gion, the geisha district of Kyoto and walked the streets to see the traditional houses. The temperature today was 29 degrees, so a long and busy day, along with the heat wiped us all out but there would be no time to rest!

Back to the hotel for a very quick turnaround before 10 of us headed out for an optional excursion of a Japanese BBQ. Well, what an evening! 90 minutes in which we could cook, eat and drink as much as we could. We sat on cushions on the floor but there were pits below the table to put your legs into, so more comfortable than just sitting on the floor. Two braziers were already heating up and the table was laden with platters of different cuts of meat and vegetables, there were sauces and cooking utensils so we set to work cooking our supper. Kas was able to order drinks and more food on the app so she was kept busy ordering extras including octopus and scallops, salads more meat, more drinks whilst the rest of us cooked for the whole group. It was a very sociable evening, helped along by a copious supply of plum wine, beer and red wine. Once our time was up we headed for the hotel and some went to the bar for a nightcap.

[runawaymarbles]

im thinking of moving to seattle to be with my partner! do you have any advice to share abt the area? (for context: i havent spent much time there at all, but im gay, im cool, i love nature & punk rock, you get the idea)

- buy some rain pants, especially if you bicycle

- look at public transit before you sign a lease; the closer you are to a light rail station the easier your life will be, but what bus lines you’re on is also important, especially if you don’t have a car

- cap hill is still where all the gay bars are

- if you need to do any east/west commuting or go around the north end of the lake your life is going to be a lot easier if you have a car.

- there is no point buying a car that isn’t AWD imo.

- i5 south is and will be a parking lot between 2 and 6pm if you live north of the ship canal bridge. If you live south of downtown you’ll have the same problem with 5 north.

- (we call it i5 or just 5. If you call it The 5 people WILL make fun of you.)

- remember that we do get earthquakes here when you’re arranging your furniture. Not often, especially compared to California, but they happen. We are waiting for The Big One. It’s kind of pointless to live in fear or The Big One, in my opinion, but it doesn’t hurt to have emergency supplies and a plan. If you’re planning to buy a house at any point, check the foundation & the maps of the fault lines.

- the arboretum is lovely but never ever leave anything valuable in your car there

- most places do not have built in a/c. If you want an a/c unit buy one during the spring, BEFORE it hits 90 for a week and everyone panic buys.

- ditto to air purifiers. There’s smoke for a week or two every summer these days. Your life will be easier if you already have one.

- if you see mount rainier it is your sworn duty to turn to the person next to you and say “the mountain’s out!”

- we put cream cheese and onions on our hot dogs and I promise you it’s delicious

- people are going to tell you that going downtown is foolish, a brush with death, asking to be shot, etc. But most people are going to ignore you if you ignore them. Use a standard amount of caution. It’s fine.

- the showbox on pike is the best music venue

- it’s called “pike market” and not “pike place” and for the love of Christ not “pike’s place”

- the streets downtown as you walk north go JJCCMMSSUUPP, (James Jackson cherry Columbia Marion Madison etc) which you can remember with the phrase “Jesus Christ made Seattle under protest”

- idk if you want more specific types of things, you’re welcome ask, but that’s what I got off the top of my head!

[mybloodyfamousprophets]

walking up the stairs into the city lights, warm in the tube but it’s cold out tonight, the red leaves are falling and the blue ones are skating, into the city the trolley is racing,

past that old park where we all got drunk, pass by the shop where i buy that skunk, riding the train just never gets old, just a silly little wonder i hold,

signs flashing by as the sun gets higher, i’m out feeling streetcar desire,

love in the 6ix, do you think it exists? do you believe in something, could you tell me a myth?

give me a story for the morning glory, there's nothing you’ll say that'll ever bore me, late night chats on the 506, me and my bestie just talking the shit,

answer the universe 'fore our stop, feeling it now that i sent her off, downtown lights and city life, flected all in starstruck eyes, the photos on billboards are fake, a lie like the cake, a lure, if you sent me one i'd fall for, i'm sure, get a robot to sell me coffee, caffeine fuels the dead man walking, looks like the cafe door is closed, you're not open, nowhere to go

i stood in that spot like my 12 year old self, childhood wonder flown off the shelf, everything changes, broke my glasses, stop and smell the flowers while life passes, hit the cartridge won't quit but you say it, phone's distorted i cant hear what you're saying, rogers 5G subway quit complaining, st george to kipling station i'm changing, new train just one destination, go the place that stops my mind racing, sit on the hill feel the trains pass by, high school down the street no school now just high, find the spot i became myself, eggs cracked, come out the shell, quiet kid got a little loud, city changes everything around, new faces and places, trying to find my spaces, strange city no lights like las vegas, wall street on bay spot exchanges, queen west hipsters, gentrification, head east to the beaches, day in the city see the stars must be dreaming, no ID card robarts I can't sneak in, annex photo negative stayed peaking, the photos from last night i am seeing, but your face is nowhere to be seen in the crowd

towards your home i’m racing, flowers in hand heart’s pacing, no flower on hand im not faded, cedarvale line 1 delayed it, your favourite perfume i sprayed it, no smelling like smoke, not like lost hopes, and dreams and memories, more like cherry blossom breeze, galão by the ocean sun is on me, you’re someone’s son and you’re on me, and my mind, think about you all the time, why else do i write these line by line, every song ends up about you, talk about nostalgia there’s that word “you”, i just end up thinking about things i dont think i can have

[japanesepenguin]

Walkin' About the Suburbs: Trip to D2

Tumblr increased their photo limit per post. Now I don't have to split things into stupid chunks.

I told Akina that we live in the "North Olmsted of Japan" and I keep seeing similarities and now I can't un-see them. Prepare yourself for... Japanese suburbs.

Okay, so the goal of this trip is to survive 95+°F weather to walk an hour to D2 (a department store). The purpose was to compare their garden center with the one I normally go to.

So here's the view looking north after leaving the apartment. The thing on the left is our "river", the Shirako (白子川). It's 10 km long so... not substantial. Basically a deep concrete ditch.

Here's some older homes on the north side, and...

Some newer homes a short walk away.

The walk along the Shirako transitions between small streets and fancy sidewalks, so here's one of the better-looking sections.

The general idea was to walk north along the Shirako then turn east to walk along a green, park-like area. I decided to cut the corner of those two, so you could get a standard street view.

My cellphone camera likes to be funky, but here's a view walking through the park, heading east. It's long (in the direction we're heading), but pretty narrow (left-to-right in the photo).

We need to cut across the big street that parallels the park to the north to get to D2. So here's a big road... this is different from LA in several important ways.

And here's D2. Turns out (thankfully), their stuff is ~10% more expensive than the garden center I normally go to. They also don't have a clearance section, so I doubt I'll be returning.

Regardless, bought some ground cover. This was about $2.00 and contains just an obscene amount of seeds.

Yes. Did you miss these? We've got what I think is a snail and what's undoubtedly a bird.

By way of explanation: there's a big (rather famous) river to the north called the Arakawa. You've seen it a few times before. There's a canal thing that parallels it just to the south, which I walked along a bit.

But the view along it mostly looks like this.

But some of it later looks like this. That's a cherry blossom tree.

Another street view, looking north towards the Arakawa (the green hill-looking thing in the far distance is the levee).

Anyways, that's all... I'll end with some flowers.

[bewitchingbaker]

[ heart ] There are certain words Beth cannot enunciate properly, a by-product of her hearing disorder. There's some words she doesn't say, and hasn't even tried, not since Andy died. And a lot of the time she's terrified that Chris will think the wrong thing, that he'll give up on her too. She isn't out of breath now at the top of the hill from their hike. Rather, it's the weight of everything built up in her chest as they stand there, looking at each other rather than the view. So she takes up his hand and puts it to her chest, hoping he can feel rather than hear.

Chris wouldn't exactly consider himself a polyglot. Aside from knowing a wee bit of Japanese, Korean, Yiddish, and some Greek with just a dash of ASL. Even then, that was for customers whose first language wasn't English or maybe possessed a hearing disorder. The baker was only fluent in two languages. Spanish, no doubt thanks to growing up in a proud Columbian home.

Second? Quiet. When you have a talkative sister, you learn how to communicate without saying too much. A tug at the shirt for worry. Small smile for excitement. A head shake or sour face for disapproval. Even before the Luna siblings move to Arizona, they formed their own little language.

'We're hanging out with my homie, Andy. He's bringing his sister and from what I hear, you two speak the same quiet language.'

So by the time Chris met Beth, he felt an instant understanding. Even with a few hiccups, the baker managed to understand most if not all of what Beth was saying. Even after Andy passed, Chris had a feeling some words might be hard to get out. He'd be lying if he didn't feel the same.

A hike was perhaps a way for them to finally communicate how they felt. At the very least east some tension. Even after some confirmation of shared feelings, the twice-shy duo found it hard to say that one simple word. One out of not wanting to make the other uncomfortable, the other out of uncertainty.

Despite this, Chris enjoyed their walk up the highest point in the desert heat. While he had a love for the windy city and Beth's home near the water, the climb reminded him how beautiful the city of Arizona truly was. As evidenced by the wide-eyed smile once he got a full few of the city.

But nothing. Nothing would compare to the beauty of seeing Beth's smile. Brown hues met her green and jade irises for an eternal moment, unaware that she grabbed his hand and placed it on her chest. A cherry red blush soon fills those chubby cheeks, eyes darting between his hand and eyes.

'You two speak the same quiet language'

At this moment, the baker got the message. Loud and clear. Soon a soft, dorkish grin forms at his lips as he returns her action. Softly placing her hand on his chest.

"I feel the same," he finally speaks as he presses a small kiss on her hand. "I'm glad we waited until we got to the top to finally say it."

[ @brooklynislandgirl ]

[wanderingwarelephant]

Ahtohallan (4.0): The City of Everlasting Spring • Dream Address Update! • DA-7681-2778-9589 • Join us for a peaceful late afternoon in cherry blossom season on Ahtohallan (4.0): The City of Everlasting Spring! • Vibes brought to you by iconic after school specials and & favorite slice of life anime shows. Heavy on the pink, pastel, & academia, with a sprinkling of town-core. • Start in town with some equipment & outfits options at Nooks & Ables. • Stop by Sasha's Convenience Store for a snack. (Don’t miss the rooftop view.) • Stroll over to Ahtohallan High. Explore the campus grounds including an aquatic center, classroom, school hallway, rooftop garden, baseball stadium, & basketball court. • Pop into Reneigh's for some fresh sushi before heading to shop the east side. • Each villager/resident house & yard has been redesigned as a shop/retail space reflecting their interests. • Get in on a jam session at Fuchsia's Music Store, or beat the high score at Ione's Arcade. Grab a good manga at Raymond's. Find all the right fashions at Francine's Boutique, & keep them clean at Chrissy's Laundry & Dry Cleaning. • After an east side shopping excursion, head down to the Fun Park for some thrills & fairground goodies. • Catch a train at the City Center station & go for on a journey to the northwest coast's Oceanside Spa. (Warp pipes for transit, see map for marked locations) • Refreshed after the spa, head back to the east side by train (or walk back & explore along the way). • Stop in for a personalized chart reading from Julian at his Observatory and snag a view of Seafoam Cave. • Enjoy the walk through the cherry blossom trees to Audie's Bathhouse & Sauna. • After a quick steam & scrub, head up to the Temple on the Hill. Explore temple interiors & enjoy the view of the forest below. • Across the Bay Bridge you'll get a bit of the country life at Teddy's Mill & Bakery and the Campsite to finish out your day. • Take in those springtime vibes & lookout for dropped goodies. 🎁 • No need to rush, school’s out & practice is done for the day so walk, don’t run. (Might lag a little 😆) • Hope you enjoyed your island tour! (at Animal Crossing: New Horizons) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cj8ibX1vLlf/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[philadelphiaepoxyflooringpa]

Best Park and Nature Attraction in Medford, Philadelphia

There’s a lot of parks in Medford, Philadelphia but none is as beautiful as Medford Park. This park has a lot of natural attractions like hiking and biking trails, playgrounds and picnic areas. There are also some beautiful plants here that you can take pictures with while exploring the park. The Medford Marina is a great place to spend the day with your family. The marina features a playground, fishing areas and walking paths that are perfect for strolling along while enjoying the view of the Delaware River.

Cooper River Park

is a great place to spend the day with your family. There are many activities here such as fishing, biking and more. The park also has a beautiful playground for children and picnic areas for families who want to enjoy some quality time together. is a nice place to visit during the summer. This park has a playground, walking paths and picnic areas. There’s also a small lake where you can rent paddle boats or kayaks. is a great place for kids to play. This park has a playground, picnic tables, walking paths and sports fields. There are also some beautiful flowers and plants that you can take pictures with while exploring this park. is a great place to spend the day with your family. The park features several playgrounds, outdoor pools and walking trails that are perfect for strolling along while enjoying the view of the Cooper River. is a great place to go if you’re looking for some peace and quiet. This park offers plenty of space for picnics and walking, as well as an area with a small playground for the kids.

Strawbridge Lake Park

is a great place to bring your family for a day of fun. There are two playgrounds, walking trails and lakeside picnics available at this park. This is a great place to visit if you want to get away from it all and enjoy some quiet time with your loved ones. is a beautiful park that features a pond, walking trails and plenty of space for picnics. The park also features an outdoor pool, which is perfect for cooling off during the hot summer days. If you’re looking for some fun in the sun, this park has everything you need to have a great time! is a great place to go if you’re looking for some peace and quiet. This park offers plenty of space for picnics and walking, as well as an area with a small playground for the kids. Strawbridge Lake Park is located at 1809 East Lenwood Avenue in Cherry Hill, NJ 08002. Strawbridge Lake Park has a beautiful view of Strawbridge Lake, making it a great place to enjoy the outdoors. This park has walking paths, picnic areas and playgrounds for families with children. There are also several sports fields that are open for public use. is another great park in Mount Pleasant that offers plenty of space for picnics and walking, as well as an area with a small playground for the kids.

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[notwiselybuttoowell]

We're Stewards of Our Land: The Rise of Female Farmers

'I was always fascinated by getting things out of the ground’

Sinead Fenton

Grows vegetables and edible flowers at Aweside Farm, East Sussex

Sinead Fenton is on an early lunch break, hiding from the sun. “It’s ridiculously intense, so I think we’re going to call it a day and crack back on in the evening,” she says. Fenton and her partner, Adam Smith, have been putting in beds and getting ahead on groundwork for next year. This year, there will be no commercial crops on the couple’s 4.5-acre plot.

They signed the papers on their farm last November and moved onto the land in March. Around the time they needed to make decisions about how they’d manage their first harvest, lockdown happened. With restaurants and florists – their main clients – out of action for the foreseeable future, they made the decision not to sow seeds but concentrate on opening up the land. “We were going to do it over three or four years, so we’re squeezing three years of work into this year, so we can focus on growing next year,” Fenton says.

She and Smith cut their scythes at Audacious Veg, a 0.1-acre plot in Hainault, at the end of the Central Line between Essex and London. Shortly after volunteering at the allotment in 2017, they heard the project was about to finish: “Naively, with about three weeks’ worth of growing experience, we decided that we’d take it on and get the produce to chefs.”

Smith worked in insurance accounting and while Fenton most recently worked in software and food policy, her background was in geology. “I came at farming from an activist point of view,” she says. “I was always fascinated by getting things out of the ground, but that is a destructive industry. Farming is nicer because I can do something for the system instead of taking everything from it.”

There was a lot of insecurity around the project. Land is contentious, especially in London, and land law is difficult and expensive to negotiate for those with no farming background. “Adam and I are both from cities – I’m from London, he’s from Essex. We’re from low-income families, and we had no access to farms growing up,” Fenton explains. “It’s basically impossible to get on the land, because it’s so expensive, or passed down through generations.”

They got the land for Aweside through the Ecological Land Co-op, which buys fields designated by Defra as only being good for arable crops, then splits them up to create smallholdings. Aweside is neighbours with a veg-box scheme, and waiting for others who’ll transform what once was a 20-acre maize field into a cluster of small farms rich with biodiversity. Now Fenton and Smith have a 150-year lease, and no worries that what they create will be taken away.

It’s not yet a permanent home. Fenton says they’ll be living in a caravan for a few years: “Another part of land law in the UK that makes land inaccessible is that if you want to live on your land you have to go through five years of proving your business is profitable, viable and that there is a functional need for you to live there.” Having livestock is an easy way to pass the test, but because Aweside is a vegan farm, Fenton and Smith need to cultivate and show they use every bit of plot.

It’s daunting but Fenton is excited about having a blank slate to work with. “There’s so much more to food than what supermarkets tell us to eat,” she says, explaining that they’ll grow varieties at risk of extinction, or that aren’t commonly grown in a mass market food system. “Seed diversity and plant genetics are serious issues.”

The three principles the couple work to are: more flowers, more trees, thriving soil. They’re working no-dig, putting compost directly on the ground and letting the soil life mix everything over time. They’re pesticide-free and are counting on the fact that the more diversity they have in the system, especially with a high proportion of flowers to pollinators and insects, the fewer problems they’ll face.

“Socially, economically and environmentally, something needs to change. Things have been done the same way by the same people for a long time,” says Fenton of the farming industry’s need for greater diversity. “I learned to grow on an allotment site where there are lots of different things growing at once. Bringing that approach into sites like this is needed – the industry needs it to keep itself relevant.”

'I'm hoping this will be seen as quite a cool career… even if it’s not’

Abi Aspen Glencross

Head of grains at Duchess Farms, Hertfordshire

It was, Abi Aspen Glencross was well aware, an odd, even inopportune time to launch a crowdfunding campaign. In June, with the country still locked down, Duchess Farms asked for support to buy dehulling, cleaning and milling equipment. The Hertfordshire farm needed about £16,000, and the money would go towards boosting the production of ancient and heritage grains for making flour.

“A lot of crowdfunders have been for charity or ‘please keep our restaurant open’,” says the 28-year-old Glencross, head of grains – or “senior flour nerd” – at Duchess Farms since 2019. “We felt a bit bad, but we lost a lot of our business overnight when all the restaurants closed and we were like: ‘God, we hope we don’t go under.’ It was quite a scary time for everyone.”

Still, if we have learned one thing from Covid-19, when times are hard, British people get baking. Perhaps inspired by countrywide shortages of flour, maybe invigorated by a new interest in left-field, older wheats such as einkorn and emmer, Duchess Farms sprinted to its target. “We’ve just done some ordering of equipment this morning,” says Aspen, when we speak in July. “It’s been a tough time for everyone but it has cascaded into some beautiful things and we’re just so thankful.”

Glencross’s path to farming was circuitous. She studied chemical engineering, but while her classmates were heading off for jobs at ExxonMobil and Procter & Gamble, she was more of “a hippy at heart”. She decided she wanted to learn more about soil and its role in food production. This led her to Blue Hill Stone Barns, Dan Barber’s pioneering farm-to-table restaurant in the Hudson Valley, north of New York. She spent four months working on the farm and in the bakery, receiving a crash course in ancient grains – an obsession of Barber’s. But the moment Glencross knew she herself wanted to farm came in 2016 in a field in Hertfordshire. She was with John Cherry, who was showing her around Weston Park Farms, 2,500 acres of land he maintains with minimal fertiliser use and zero tillage.

“We were walking around the fields of wheat and I just said: ‘Where does all this go? There’s so much of it,’” Glencross says. “And John goes: ‘Oh probably for animal feed. It’s a consistent market, they’ll take it, it’s easy, even if we don’t earn that much money from it.’ And I was like: ‘This is crazy.’ And that was the beginning of me getting on this grain bender because I was like: ‘Why can’t we grow these grains organically and not feed them to animals?’ So I realised I’d have to start a business, because there were not very many people doing that.”

Heritage grains can be harder to produce in vast quantities – einkorn, especially, is “a bitch to harvest” – but they do have advantages over conventional wheats. They typically have deep roots and grow tall, which means they shade out weeds and do not require chemical sprays. The end product is more nutritious and then there’s the taste. Since 2017, Glencross has run a roving supper club called the Sustainable Food Story with Sadhbh Moore, and Duchess Farms has worked closely with bakeries such as E5 Bakehouse in east London and Gail’s, and restaurants including Doug McMaster’s Silo. “Heritage grains are delicious: when you stop growing for yield and you start growing for quality the flavour is insane,” says Glencross.

Learning to farm from scratch has not been straightforward, but you sense that’s a big part of the appeal for Glencross. “There’s all these decisions the farmer makes throughout the year and why he sprays and why he doesn’t,” she says. “You realise that most people get up, sit at a computer all day and if they press the wrong button, they just delete it. When you’re a farmer, you plant at the wrong time of year and tomorrow it washes away your whole crop.”

Glencross acknowledges that it is almost unprecedented for women to run arable farms. She struggles to name a single other example in the UK. She also notes wryly that men dominate all the farming conferences, saying: “They have a wife but it’s always the men who have written the book and given the presentation.”

With more role models, Glencross hopes things will change. “I’m not cool in any way, but I’m a reasonably young lady,” she says, laughing. “And so when people say: ‘What do you do? Oh, you’re a farmer. Maybe I could do that …’ So I’m hoping that it might become seen as quite a desirable, almost cool career.” A pause: “Even if it’s very much not cool.” 

[empty-masks]

Book Two, Chapter Two - Cherry

CW: Strong Language, Sexual References, Graphic Violence, Fantasy Bigotry, Smoking, Alcohol Use, Light Body Horror

HAVE YOU CONSIDERED MY WORDS, CITRINE? NOW THAT YOU ARE FREE, THERE IS AMPLE TIME TO WORK AT YOUR IMPERFECTIONS. WHEN YOU ARE READY, I SHALL SEND FOR AN AGENT OF MINE TO ASSIST.

Hiking is a popular pastime for those who live in the Eternal Autumn. Cherry has fond memories of being lifted onto his father’s shoulders as they trekked over the rolling hills, under the vibrant canopy, and beside the babbling brooks near to his hometown. Fishing, foraging, swimming, climbing, hunting, sunbathing; there’s so much to do in the forest, and due to humanoid civilization generally scaring away the nastier elements of the wild, it’s relatively safe for most people to seek leisure in said activities.

That is, if you stop to do any of those things. As Cherry and the other four, post-breakfast, walk through the unmarked forest, he finds himself lamenting (only a little bit) about all the missed opportunities. See that set of rolling falls coming in from the east? Of course we can’t follow it Cherry, we’ve got better things to do. Wow, those mushrooms are not only edible, but fantastic tasting, maybe we should stop to collect them! No, Cherry, we’ll find some when we sit down for the night. 

Sure, they’re technically running for their lives. But by the time they break for a quick rest, it’s mid-day and Cherry feels like he’s been walked through a candy shop with a full wallet and a pair of tied hands.

“Feet hurt?” Leon asks, walking over to his spot under a particularly large oak. “Not really. I’m just a little bummed out.” “Over what?”

Cherry motions to the forest with both hands. “This. Us. Walking through this place and not having the time to enjoy it.”

“You know this isn’t a vacation, kid,” the Orc snorts. “I get it, but we can’t stop to smell the roses.”

“Roses don’t grow out here, and you’re only a couple years older than me.” Cherry holds his head in his hands. “I’ll get over it, I guess. Maybe I’m getting too sentimental.”

Leon stands up. “Maybe, Cherry. Try not to wallow in it. Judith’ll get on you if you drag your feet.” “Yeah, I know.”

As the Orc walks away, the Techie sighs. He sure doesn’t get it. But then again, he tried to run beforehand, and that didn’t turn out great for him. He probably doesn’t see this place the same way I do. Cherry narrows his eyes in sympathy. Where I see fun, he sees pain. Jeez, what a terrible thing to think about.

He decides to brush off the thought by seeing what everyone else is up to. Azariah’s alternating between stretching out his back and massaging his feet, something he’s probably setting a mental schedule to do every time they rest. This kind of backwoods hiking must be killer on someone his age, much less someone who also has to carry a backpack full of supplies, as well as his mandolin. Cherry hopes that he’ll save enough energy to play it by the end of the day, like he usually does.

Olive and Judith are busy sorting through their backpacks for something for Judith to write on, presumably so that the latter can begin taking inventory of what they’ve got. Which, though it isn’t a lot, is going to be important to manage. Knowing who’s eating what, and how much, is going to determine how often they need to stop, and by the looks of it nobody but Cherry seems inclined toward that particular option.

That arm. All of a sudden, Judith’s arm snaps his vision right to it. It’s still bandaged tightly, and every time she goes to do something with her right hand, she seems to take a moment to realize that it’s not there anymore. God, Cherry thinks to himself. I did that. I really did that to her, didn’t I. And all I got out with was a cut forehead. I can’t imagine what she’s going through, but I don’t think it’d be a good time to apologize. He frowns, adjusting his sitting position beneath the tree. In fact, it’s hard to imagine a time where he COULD apologize. She’s always so busy, so annoyed. Apologizing to people who’re still angry with you is like trying to lay bricks in the rain.

Judith looks up from her note-taking, and scowls at Cherry. “What are you staring at?” she yells from where she stands.

“Nothing!” he responds, taking the opportunity to focus on the tree he’s sitting under.

How long have those eyes been there? Cherry tilts his head to the side, trying to get a better look at the shape that sits on the tree branch. It’s a fuzzy little lump with big yellow eyes and a standing gait like a bird’s. He swears he can see the outline of wings with little bony hooks on the elbows, but it’s hard to make out until it cocks its head back, and drops down to a closer perch. 

The thing’s got a cute face-- a smushed snout not unlike that of a bat, a pair of upturned lips (making it seem as though it’s smiling), and a squat body shape that makes it more akin to something you’d see on a stuffed animal rack than a tree branch. Cherry can make out little white fangs poking out of either side of its mouth.

He stands up from his seat to hold out an arm, but the thing jumps slightly on its perch, as though startled by the sudden movement. But, he’s persistent. He keeps holding out his arm until the thing hops on, gripping tightly to his jumpsuit. It maintains its distance for a little while before moving closer to Cherry’s shoulder, where it eventually perches, allowing him to put his arm down and move around. It occasionally lets out a clicking sound, something he could only perceive as curiously friendly.

Of course, when he walks over to the others to introduce them to his new friend, it’s a mixed bag of reactions.

“Cherry, get that thing off your shoulder,” Judith says. “It’ll give you fucking rabies.”

“It doesn’t seem very bitey,” he responds. “Aren’t raccoons were the only thing that carry rabies around here?”

Olive’s eyes go wide, and she practically hops over to Cherry’s side. “Woah, you found a Skitterbat?! Those’re real rare ‘round here, ‘specially since we’re so far from the mountains! How the hell’dya get it to perch on your shoulder?”

“That’s a Skitterbat?” Judith asks, dumbfounded. “That’s the thing that the other foremen told me to be careful of?”

“And they can’t get rabies, Judith,” Olive replies. “Raccoons only get rabies ‘round here if they spend too much time in the city. I think it’s the trash that infects ‘em.”

“Somethin’ about a Skitterbat?” Azariah walks up to the conversation, rubbing his lower back. “Oh wow. Cherry’s gone all Mr. Wild Frontier on us.”

Cherry beams, giving the animal a little pet on the side with a finger, which it graciously accepts. “I think I’m gonna bring it with us. What should we name him?”

“We’re not doing either of those things,” Judith retorts. “And I’d like an answer, Olive.”

“How about Skippy?” the Owl suggests, holding out a feather for it to sniff.

Azariah laughs, and pats the Foreman on the back. “They tell you to watch out for them because they swarm. They’re supposed to be underground most of the time.”

“So why’s this one out here, then?” Judith frowns at the hairy little animal, which simply cocks its head in response.

“Minin’ drives them out. It takes them a long time to find those tunnels again, or find new ones if the old ones are screwed up enough that they’re unlivable.”

Olive pets it under its chin, “They can survive just fine out on the surface too! They’re meat-eaters, so they’ll snack on bugs and sometimes fish. Ain’t that right, cutie?”

“We’re still not taking it with us,” Judith responds. She turns to Leon, expecting him to agree.

“So long as it doesn’t slow us down.” He shrugs.

“You know, I expected better from you,” she says. “It’s a wild animal. Why the hell would we let the fuckup Techie take it with him?”

“It’ll get him to stop pouting. Did you see his face while we were walking? It sucked the life out of me.”

Judith groans, and Cherry gives his new friend, Skippy, a pat on the head before he says, “We’ll find you some juicy bugs when we next stop, buddy.”

The trek to their next resting location goes smoothly and peacefully since recruiting Skippy. Though it’d frequently hop off Cherry’s shoulder to chase a bug, it wouldn’t take long for it to find its way back to its moving, friendly perch, climb its way up his jumpsuit, and hop onto his shoulder again. They walked and walked, and Cherry even found that the little critter was fine with sitting in his jumpsuit’s front pocket, though it was a little difficult getting it back out again without its permission.

Though, disaster strikes when they sit down for the evening. By the time dinner’s all done, Skippy’s gone missing. And it’s not a good time to search for a little black ball of hair, seeing as how dusk has already begun to settle in. Darkness falls, there’s no sign of Skippy, and Cherry turns to melancholy on his second night under the stars. He’s stuck staring at the lightshow of a sky, unable to force himself to sleep. They’d made a good distance walking today and he’s more than certain that his body wants sleep. Still, his mind refuses to settle like his muscles, and he’s stuck running through the schematics of a fresh trap, the way the parts interlock, the intricate relationship between each and every piece. The complexities of a machine were discernible, comprehensible, constant. And yet, it couldn’t break the lingering disappointment that Skippy would so swiftly abandon him for the wild once again. Part of him had hoped that he could tame him, or even keep him as a pet. But, alas.

A new problem arises as he mulls over the concept of improving the hair fish traps, and after rubbing his face he stands. It’s hard to tell how long it had been, but the fire’s gotten lower and the sky shows no sign of brightening from its murk, so he supposes it couldn’t have been more than an hour.

He feels the need to smoke tugging at him. Normally he takes a hit before going to bed, but being on the run means relatively little time to smoke, having to ration out his cigarettes— what number of them weren’t crushed by that “Acquisitions” guy getting handsy— and dealing with Judith’s constant inventory checking. She counts every single cigarette, and expects him to let her know when he smokes, if he smokes a whole one, or just half, or any other mundane, inane crap she could think of. He isn’t sure if she’s entirely earnest in her need to keep a log of a resource only Cherry uses, or if it’s to get back at him for the loss of her hand, or maybe the loss of her job, or generally anything else that had happened to her thus far.

As he’s stepping over to the bag with their less important gear, he spots something near the fire itself, sitting right at the edge of the rocks encircling the fire pit. His feet go still in the dirt, and with a blink of his wide eyes, he realizes it’s staring directly at him. And it’s a familiar stare, the kind that reminds him of… Skippy?

When he steps closer, it freezes for a moment, then continues staring, as though it were unfamiliar, but still curious. Even if it’s not actually Skippy, Cherry figures that it’d be worth a shot to try and tame another. Smiling, he takes a few more steps toward where their packs were, tied up tight, and opens one up to retrieve some bits of dried fish he’d kept for himself. He didn’t feel as hungry as he ought to have back during dinner, so he had stashed his leftovers without telling Judith. Azariah saw, he knows, but the old rabbit isn’t the type to snitch.

With a stick and some dried fish stuck to it, he walks over until he’s only a few feet away from the animal. It’s still watching him with eyes like big, yellow discs, watching him as he extends the stick toward it. When the fish comes within arm’s reach, its little black claws hook into the flesh and it pulls the food into its maw. Its mouth is a bit like a cat’s, almost feline. Its teeth are similar, but a bit smaller than a feline’s as well, something he only caught glimpses of when Skippy would come running back, crunching a cicada in its mouth. As it gobbles down the scraps, it makes a tittering, squeaking sound comparable to laughter in the way it warbles in and out of its chest, and it makes Cherry smile. These little things sure aren’t afraid of much. How do they keep getting lost like this, though?

Before he can step any closer to try and pet it, someone’s standing up. Olive, clutching her axe, takes careful, silent steps over toward Cherry.

“Oh, Olive, don’t worry. This little guy is…”

“Cherry,” she says, tone frigid and level as she stares past him, past the bumbling bat. “Start walkin’ behind the fire, slowly. Slowly, y’hear?” Her voice is low, soft. She knows it can hear her, but she’s not focusing on that. She doesn’t need Cherry panicking.

 “Look at it, it’s fine! It’s just another Skitterbat, and it isn’t even afraid of us—”

“Cherry, don’t question her,” mumbles a voice from on the ground. Azariah’s awake, but he’s staying still. He’s staring straight up into the sky, blocked by the forest canopy, the clouds, and the cover of night, but his ears are twitching. After the elder’s interjection, Cherry sighs and carefully steps back a foot or so as Olive picks up one of the larger pieces of tinder and raises it above her head like a torch. She takes no more than two steps, this time taking care to stamp her feet against the rock and soil to drum up noise.

The little bat is sent running out of the camp down the path Olive illuminates with her torch, and perhaps no more than a few feet beyond where Cherry’s own vision had ended there’s a great, hairy bulk, taller than even Olive without standing.

Its posture is somewhere between an ape’s and a bear’s, with massive forelimbs in front of a mountain of well-packed muscle, topped with a large, hoggish head. Its ears are large and pointed, triangular in the style of bats. Covered in shaggy black fur from the top of its head to the ends of its arms, it’s hard to make out anything about the creature’s shape beyond its size. All that isn’t covered is the end of its porcine snout, which bore large scars in its dark, leathery skin and large fangs, and its hands.

Structurally, they’re similar to those of the smaller animal, with long second, third, and little fingers curled back with thick, membranous skin connecting each digit back to the main body, but its index finger and thumb are different. On them it bears claws that make Cherry’s stomach sink, and behind the safety of the fire he collapses backward, tumbling into the dirt. As he comes to rest beside Azariah, Olive takes another loud step forward.

“HYAH! HEEEYAW! HYAH! GO!” She screams, waving the torch back and forth above her head. Her feathers ruffle and rise as she steps from left to right, stomping, waving both arms as she continues to hoot and holler at the animal. Cherry suddenly sits upright, fear beading sweat against his brow as he then attempts to stand, but is held down by Azariah.

“Wait, it’s gonna get eaten by…”

“Hush, Cherry,” the Hare replies, before pointing. The little reddish bat runs awkwardly, but its locomotion isn’t inefficient. Strong arms the length of its whole body hook into the ground with its claws, it brings its body forward in a leaping motion, it steadies with the hind legs again and then the process starts over.

There’s a deep, gurgling growl from the shaggy mountain before them, and it receives a high pitched clicking in reply before the smaller animal disappears into the beast’s fur, only popping its head out once it’s clinging to what must be the creature’s torso. Several other heads poke out this way, all of the same size, all of the same type, surveying Olive’s still ongoing display of aggression before disappearing into the heavy black shadow of the greater creature.

It watches attentively, opening and shutting its jaws while making more bubbly growls, until Olive finally lets out an ear-piercing screech that shakes her whole body and every single feather on it. This causes the animal to go silent, then melt into the dark of the night again, its menacing growl fading into the sounds of the forest.

Olive keeps up her screaming and dancing for another minute, and upon stopping realizes that everyone in camp is awake. Judith looks about half-dead with a groggy, vacant stare on her face and Leon is annoyed, but Azariah and Cherry are both afraid, still. After his ears twitch and his muscles relax, the Hare speaks, saying, “It’s probably gone, Olive. If you can’t see it and I can’t hear it then it’s probably gone…”

Judith doesn’t bother questioning what’s happening, and similar to an already fast asleep Leon nearby, she conks out, deciding to ignore what she considers to be a particularly stupid dream. Cherry does not.

“What… what the hell was that? Are those common out here? Why were all those Skitterbats clinging to it like that!?” He asks, turning his gaze first to Azariah, then to Olive, who sits beside him heavily, her breathing hard and fast.

“Skitterbear,” Azariah mumbles. Olive nods in agreement, then as her breathing calms down, she speaks too.

“A Skitterbear, big nasty things, Cherry. In security they were one of the local fauna we were only really trained to scare off, not kill. Apparently they’re big bats that developed a taste for— for miner years ago.” As she finishes up, Azariah nods.

“I can speak to that. Of course, that ain’t all. Weren’t always maneaters, but then again, there weren’t always men tryin’ to dig into the Dividend mountains. Before mining started, when I was young, damn things were a practical myth. These days, they’re a dying breed.”

Cherry’s brow furrows before he asks, “How would you even kill something like that? They’re enormous! There’s no way they’ve got predators!”

Azariah answers now, while Olive then sets the tinder back into the fire, her breathing finally leveling back out. “They usually live in the caves, Cherry, same as the Skitterbats. Animals, people, all got places to be in this world. When you’re forced into something new, forced out of your home, you have to adapt— or you die. Maybe from predators, maybe from the elements, maybe from people with pointy sticks, but that don’t matter at the end of the day.”

“Things that big live underground?” He asks, blinking.

“Never hit the bottom of any cave we mined into. Never found if there is a bottom,” Olive replies. “Always worried me, that. The thought that one shift, someone’ll crack somethin’ they shouldn’t and we’ll go plummetin’ into a cave. Die from the fall, or maybe from whatever’s down there.”

“You’re far braver than me, either way. Thank you, guys. You really saved my butt, there. I— I didn’t even know it was there. I have no idea how either of you could… Oh.” Cherry sighs, and with an awkward smile points first toward Olive’s eyes, then Azariah’s ears. “Right, forgot.” It makes the old man laugh, but Olive simply shrugs.

“Bravery has nothin’ to do with it. I was trained on how to handle them, and animals— animals I can understand, mostly. They’re more predictable than people most of the time.”

Cherry tilts his head, folding his hands in his lap as he looks at her face for some sign of what he should be reading out of her. Seeing the quick tapping of her beak between her words, he supposes anxiety, and asks, “Mostly?”

“I mean, Skitterbats ain’t a threat when you find ‘em solo,” she starts. “Usually you can find them in decently sized colonies in the caves, and they tend to go after things in swarms. We were trained to flush them out of mines and buildin’s if need be. They’ve got a symbiotic thing goin’ on with the Skitterbears, help keepin ‘em clean of parasites an’ such. Or whatever’s down there in those caves that needs eatin’. Maybe Skippy thought you were a new host, or somethin’?”

Cherry’s quiet for a long moment, thinking over the way it had been so willing to let him draw close, how it had accepted his food and chattered so cutely, and how not too far away was something more than twice his size, simply watching him. He shudders. “That’s horrible. I think I’ll be fine if we don’t see any more of those ever again. Hey, if it’s a bat too, it can… Can it fly? The Skitterbear, I mean.”

Olive shrugs, and Azariah pats him on the shoulder before turning over to settle again. “Don’t worry, they’re scared off for good most likely. Interestin’ sight, thinkin’ about it, but odds are they won’t go near Olive again.”

It’s not long after that when Olive, too, has settled for long enough to fall back asleep, and Cherry decides it’s time to do the same thing. Heading away from the campfire to smoke, so late at night, so deep in the woods seems like one of his worst ideas now.

Instead he opts to go to sleep, straining to pretend that the only sounds of the forest he hears tonight are the flapping of leaves in the wind, not the beating of leathery wings muffled by an overcast night sky.

Chapter End.

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[[ Table of Contents ]]

Blondie & The Smokestone March is © 2020-2022 Empty Mask. All Rights Reserved.

[londiniumlundene]

Yoshino Cherry Trees of Winterbrook Road

Spring is in the air, and many of London’s street trees are in full blossom. Perhaps the most common and most recognised are the many species of flowering cherry, seen on roads across the capital. Whole avenues of cherry trees were one common, with consistently sized trees belonging to the same species providing pink or white blossom in the spring, and vibrant red, orange and yellow falling leaves in the autumn.

Planting streets in this way seems to have largely fallen out of favour, with less-colourful trees taking up more roadside spots. However, several streets in Herne Hill has received an excellent cherry tree treatment, thanks to a former local councillor.

Robin Crookshank Hilton grew up in Washington DC, where cherry trees were a common site, many having been gifts celebrating friendship between the USA and Japan. She suggested planting the Yoshino variety, the most frequently planted species in Tokyo, and one much associated with the cherry blossom festival of Hanami. Working with the support of the tree officer of Southwark Council, and local residents, Robin was successful in having a trial planting of two Yoshinos in East Dulwich in 2008. Establishing that the trees would be successful as street trees, 30 Yoshinos were then planted along Winterbrook Road in 2012. Other nearby roads have since been planted with more of the cherry trees, though not in such high numbers.

The Yoshinos on Winterbrook Road are still quite young, but they nonetheless produce a beautiful line of blossom along the street from late March to early April, and as they continue to grow, may eventually yield a blossom tunnel effect. Their success has led to them being featured in guidebooks, as part of tree walks, and has inspired similar plantings in other areas of London. They also seem to be very popular with the local populations of parakeets, who can be observed snacking on the blossoms!

[tealin]

Cape Crozier: The Winter Journey

As usual, please go to the original blog to see everything formatted properly. I will attempt to put most of this under a cut, here. Forgive me if it fails.

On the morning of 27 June 1911, three men set out from Cape Evans, on the balmy west coast of Ross Island, to cross to the east coast via its southern shore.  Wilson, their leader, wanted to acquire some Emperor penguin embryos, and the only known Emperor rookery was just off Cape Crozier.  Based on the chicks he had seen in September the last time he was in Antarctica, Wilson estimated that the eggs would be laid in early July, so he timed the trip to meet them at the right stage of development and to coincide with the full moon, to have the best visibility in a world of 24-hour night. 

  Wilson had discussed this mission with his assistant, Cherry-Garrard, when the latter was applying to join the Expedition.  Once in Antarctica, they agreed the obvious choice for a third was Bowers, who had amply proven his energy, enthusiasm, strength, resourcefulness, and resistance to cold. 

  To reach Cape Crozier at the full moon in early July meant leaving Cape Evans at the new moon, and so shortly after the solstice that most of the day was nearly black, lit only by the stars shining hard in the sky, and occasionally the aurora.  The first part of the journey was over very familiar territory, so the greatest difficulty was learning how to camp when one could hardly see anything and it was too cold to take one's mitts off or touch any metal.  So far, so surmountable. 

  The tune changed as soon as they left the sea ice and got onto the permanent ice of the Barrier (or Ross Ice Shelf, as it is now known).

 They left the tempering effect of the open ocean behind, and were under the influence of the frigid interior.  The air temperature plunged, and worse, for men hauling everything necessary for life on two 9ft sledges, they soon entered a zone of soft snow. 

  Runners slide over snow by melting the surface with friction – the glide is, in fact, slipping over a thin film of liquid water.  At such low temperatures, friction is not sufficient to melt anything, so the grains of snow act more like sand.  A hard, wind-polished surface would be like sandpaper, but in the deep soft snow it was like dragging a dead weight through the Sahara, albeit a Sahara where a day of -50°F felt like a warm spell.   

   They couldn't drag both sledges at once, so they had to take one forward, then retrace their steps and drag the other.  For every mile of forward progress, they actually covered three.  In the dead calm, they could use a naked candle to follow their outward steps back to fetch the second sledge.  Eight hours of dragging seldom got them more than two miles from where they started, and ended with the slow process of pitching camp.  After getting the tent up, the day's cook would burn his fingers on freezing tin matchboxes in a quest for a match free of frost, before he could get the Primus stove going.  Eventually the travellers would get some hot liquid in them – 

  Directly we started to drink then the effect was wonderful: it was, said Wilson, like putting a hot-water bottle against your heart.  The beats became very rapid and strong and you felt the warmth travelling outwards and downwards. [250] 

  – and then, after checking their feet for frostbites, it was time to thaw their way into their frozen sleeping bags for a miserable attempt at sleep. 

  For me it was a very bad night: a succession of shivering fits which I was quite unable to stop, and which took possession of my body for many minutes at a time until I thought my back would break, such was the strain placed upon it.  They talk of chattering teeth: but when your body chatters you may call yourself cold. [241]  We knew we did sleep, for we heard one another snore, and also we used to have dreams and nightmares; but we had little consciousness of it, and we were now beginning to drop off when we halted on the march. [245] 

  It was important for every field party to take regular meteorological observations, to contribute to an understanding of the region's weather.  At regular intervals through the day, Bowers would take an air temperature reading, and while they were sleeping, a minimum thermometer was placed under the sledge to measure the temperature in a sheltered place.  On 6 July, this got down to -75°F; the following afternoon, Bowers' thermometer registered -77.5°F. The day lives in my memory as that on which I found out that records are not worth making. [247-8] 

  The clear cold of the first part of their journey had given way to a fog, which diffused the little moonlight they got and obscured the terrain until they were practically right on top of it.  As they were rounding the heel of Mt Terror this meant crevasses, and not being able to tell where they were until one fell through, which was a nerve-wracking business on top of the sleep deprivation and physical hardship. 

  The horror of the nineteen days it took us to travel from Cape Evans to Cape Crozier would have to be re-experienced to be appreciated; and any one would be a fool who went again: it is not possible to describe it.  The weeks which followed were comparative bliss, not because our conditions were better – they were far worse – but because we were callous.  I for one had come to that point of suffering at which I did not really care if only I could die without much pain.  They talk of the heroism of the dying – they little know – it would be so easy to die, a dose of morphia, a friendly crevasse, and blissful sleep.  The trouble is to go on. . . . [237] 

  Finally they were on the home stretch, a narrow lane between the rough terrain of the land and the great pressure waves where the Barrier presses up against Ross Island as it flows out to sea.  This proved to be nearly impossible to keep to, in the poor light, but after much stumbling, and with a welcome rise in temperature to the mere -20s, they finally reached a moraine just short of the Knoll, within hiking distance of the Emperor colony huddled in the lee of the Barrier face below.  They pitched their tent on an icy smooth snow slope 150 yards down from the ridge, and the following day set about building a igloo near the top, using the exposed volcanic stone found there, in a method Cherry had been practising at Cape Evans.  July 16th, when they established the hut, was Wilson's wedding anniversary, and in the privacy of his diary at least, he named the igloo Oriana Hut, and the moraine Oriana Ridge, after his wife.  The others proposed 'Terra Igloo', 'The House on the Hill,' and 'Bleak House.'  In the South Polar Times, after their return, Bowers immortalised it in rhyme as 'The House That Cherry Built.'  On official Antarctic maps, though, it's now labelled Wilson's Igloo and the moraine is Igloo Spur. 

  Our trip to Cape Crozier was a walk in the park – 35 minutes in a helicopter watching the amazing views roll by – and our greatest challenge was finding the landing site, but that was only a question of how close it was to the GPS waymark, rather than whether we could land at all.  We were not exempt from the vagaries of Antarctic weather, however.  When our flight got the green light, the weather at Cape Crozier was 30% cloud with 7-knot winds.  Not your typical Cape Crozier weather, but great weather for helicopters.  By the time we arrived, 35 minutes later, it was 70% cloud, a fog was rolling in, and winds were at 30 knots.  I was warned our time here might be short.  But we set off to see the igloo anyway. 

 The plan had been to build the body of the igloo in stone, then bank up the walls with gravel and snow to make them weatherproof.  Unlike a stereotypical snow-block igloo, it was not a dome, but would be roofed using one of the sledges as a beam, with a canvas sheet spread over it, firmly anchored in the rocks.  This has an Arctic precedent: in Francis McClintock's account of his search for the lost Franklin Expedition in the 1850s, he describes meeting an Inuit woman who lived in a stone igloo of very similar construction.  Cherry's practice igloo at Cape Evans was an admirable structure, but the plan went awry at Cape Crozier, on account of a lack of gravel and all the snow in the vicinity being blown so hard as to be practically ice [261].  They improvised as best they could, chipping some slabs of ice out of the snowbank and leaning them against the exterior walls, but it was not as cosy a structure as they'd hoped, and they ended up stuffing spare socks into some of the larger gaps in the stones to keep out the wind.  This wind, they discovered on their second day of building, was much stronger at the top of the ridge than where they had made camp on the snow.  But the stone walls were more secure than the tent – which was left pitched outside the igloo's door for storage – and heralded a new 'Age of Stone' in which they could get on with their science. 

  It was more than just scientific interest that made a visit to the penguin colony imperative: on their grind to Cape Crozier, they had burned through nearly five of their six cans of oil.  As well as the penguin embryos they came for, they needed to burn some blubber to keep warm in their igloo, so that they could use the last tin of oil for the return journey.  So as soon as their building progress allowed, they scouted a perilous path down a snow drift over the cliffs and through the horrible pressure to reach the Emperor colony.  Instead of the two thousand birds found by the Discovery, there were barely a hundred, and less than half of them apparently had eggs.  Nevertheless, Wilson and Bowers secured five eggs and three birds' skins – the blubber comes off with the skin – and they legged it back to their camp while there was still a modicum of light to see by.  Cherry broke both of the eggs he was carrying in a fall, but they made it back with the remaining three and the blubber, which got its revenge on Wilson by spluttering into his eye from the stove. 

  “Things must improve,” said Bill [Wilson] next day, “I think we reached bed-rock last night.”  We hadn't, by a long way. [272] 

 The igloo is at the opposite end of the moraine from the helicopter landing site, or at least where the GPS told us it was.  There is nothing between the crest of Igloo Spur and the Transantarctic Mountains, hundreds of miles away, and the 30-knot wind flowed over our minor obstruction just like a river: barely any gusts, just a constant flow, solid as water, up and over the ridge and then out towards the sea.  I tried to look out for lichen as I stumbled along, but it was hard to be careful of where I put my feet when I was struggling to keep my balance against the wind.  There were patches of a beige crust – was this lichen or was it a mineral deposit?  Someone shouted that they had found some – it turned out to be black, and crawled along the ground like dinosaur fern.  Once spotted it was obvious, and easier to avoid. 

  A few good minutes' scramble got us to the igloo.  On the way, I saw a small log of petrified wood, shining pale on the chocolate-brown rubble.  This seemed very much out of place on a volcanic island, and I wondered briefly how it had got there, before an answer came: obviously it had blown here.  A joke, perhaps, but not as much of one as you might think: the further out along the ridge we walked, the stronger the wind seemed to be.  At last we reached the remains of Oriana Hut. 

  I should have been humbled, or at least struck with a sense of awe.  But all I could think was: You guys were completely insane. 

 The day after Wilson, Cherry, and Bowers returned from the raid on the Emperors, there was a small blizzard, and the flapping of the canvas roof on the igloo caused them some concern, so they set about weighing it down with blocks of ice and making extra sure it was securely fastened all around.  They pitched the tent right next to the door and put a lot of their gear into it, to make space for themselves in the igloo.  Then, with the weather calm and their bellies full, they settled down to catch up on some precious and hitherto scanty sleep. 

  I do not know what time it was when I woke up.  It was calm, with that absolute silence which can be so soothing or so terrible as circumstances dictate.  Then there came a sob of wind, and all was still again.  Ten minutes and it was blowing as though the world was having a fit of hysterics.  The earth was torn in pieces: the indescribable fury and roar of it all cannot be imagined. 

  “Bill, Bill, the tent has gone,” was the next I remember – from Bowers shouting at us again and again through the door.  …. Journey after journey Birdie and I fought our way across the few yards which had separated the tent from the igloo door.    

  … To get that gear in we fought against solid walls of black snow which flowed past us and tried to hurl us down the slope.  Once started nothing could have stopped us.  I saw Birdie [Bowers] knocked over once, but he clawed his way back just in time.  Having passed everything we could find in to Bill, we got back into the igloo, and started to collect things together, including our very dishevelled minds.[275-6] 

  Not sure when they would be able to eat again, they cooked a meal, and nervously watched the igloo roof.  The problem was not so much that it was in the wind, but that it was just out of it: the wind rushing up the southern slope of the moraine created suction just behind the crest, where the igloo was, and this was pulling the canvas up.  The motion of the canvas shifted the ice blocks weighing it down until they were off.  Then the incessant sucking up and flapping down started to stretch the material; as it stretched it got more play; as it played more the flapping became more violent.  At last the fabric could no longer take the strain and exploded into ribbons, whose frantic lashing in the hurricane sounded like pistol shots. 

  They hurried into their sleeping bags and rolled over so that the flaps were underneath, and huddled while the storm raged overhead. 

  I can well believe that neither of my companions gave up hope for an instant.  They must have been frightened, but they were never disturbed.  As for me I never had any hope at all; and when the roof went I felt that this was the end. [280] 

  And then … they slept.  The blizzard had brought a rise in temperature and the snow drifting over them made a good insulator, so they were more comfortable than they had been for a while, and of course there was nothing else they could do.  There was so much to worry about that there was not the least use in worrying: and we were so very tired. [282]  Occasionally Bowers would thump Wilson and Wilson would move a bit to prove he was alive.  When they were awake they'd sing songs and hymns to pass the time – we sang hymns because they were easier to sing than La Bohême and it was a good thing to sing something.*  Quieter moments might be spent cogitating over how to get back without a tent, but the situation looked pretty hopeless.  When they were thirsty they would pinch a little drift from just outside their bag and eat it, and so staved off the worst, but without a tent, 52 excruciating miles from the nearest shelter at Hut Point, and months away from spring, it seemed only to be delaying the inevitable. 

  Thus impiously I set out to die, making up my mind that I was not going to try and keep warm, that it might not take too long, and thinking I would try and get some morphia from the medical case if it got very bad.  Yes! comfortable, warm reader.  Men do not fear death, they fear the pain of dying. [281] 

  On top of everything, it was Wilson's 39th birthday. 

 I suppose the most surprising thing is that there is anything left of the igloo at all.  Some of the rocks came down when the roof blew open, but the many, many blizzards since then have worked hard to dismantle the rest.  And yet, in the shelter of the walls, protected by the drift that accumulates there, there are still some of the Crozier party's possessions.    

  Standing here, especially in a 30-knot wind, one cannot but think this is a pretty stupid place to build a shelter.  Cherry acknowledges this in his book, but reminds us that they had to build more or less where the rocks were, and the rocks were where the wind kept the snow from accumulating.  They had brought a snow knife to cut snow blocks, Inuit-fashion, but there was no such snow to be had; it was all ice.  And I had an additional insight, thanks to my midnight hike up Arrival Heights: 

 The igloo is built just off the crest of the ridge, exactly like where I was standing when I felt no wind on Arrival Heights.  They would have been very familiar with that ridgeline and had almost certainly observed the same phenomenon, so if they had to pick a spot on a desolate windswept hill, that was, in the circumstances, one of the better ones to pick.  There was a short blizzard their first night back from the Emperors, but aside from the drift blowing through the gaps in the rocks it didn't concern them much; they just had the bad timing to meet a monstrous storm shortly after. I have never heard or felt or seen a wind like this, Cherry wrote, even after having experienced the ferociously windy second winter at Cape Evans, where they feared the hut might blow down, I wondered why it did not carry away the earth. [283]  They had anticipated the wind in the construction of the hut, and the pyramid tent had amply proven its ability to stand up to blizzards in its years of Antarctic service; it was the suction that threw them a curve ball.  When the roof blew into ribbons, it was still firmly anchored in the walls, and even 108 years later, it's still there. 

 The storm first hit on Friday, 21 July; by Monday it was beginning to abate enough that they could speak to each other without too much difficulty.  They hadn't eaten for two days, but the first thing they did was go look for the tent.  When that proved fruitless, they returned and cooked a meal with the tent floorcloth stretched between their heads.  The cooker was full of penguin feathers, burnt blubber, and dirt, but the smell of it was better than anything on earth. 

 When the midday twilight returned, they had another search for the tent.  I followed Bill down the slope.  We could find nothing.  But, as we searched, we heard a shout somewhere below and to the right. They slid down the snow slope and fetched up where Bowers had discovered the tent, which must have closed like an umbrella when sucked off its moorings, and, with so much less surface area, dropped out of the sky only a few hundred yards away.  Our lives had been taken away and given back to us.   

We were so thankful we said nothing. 

If the tent went again we were going with it.  We made our way back up the slope with it, carrying it solemnly and reverently, precious as though it were something not quite of the earth.  And we dug it in as tent was never dug in before ... [284-5] 

 I have read Cherry's account of the Winter Journey several times, 'blind' as it were – in my head, Cape Crozier was a chaotic jumble of ice and rock with no shape I could deduce from the writing.  Unlike the landmarks of McMurdo Sound, and even the Beardmore to some extent, there were no historical photos of the theatre for this action; a few closeups of the igloo appear at the end of Mark Gatiss' 2007 docudrama, but they give no context in respect to the landscape.  This was why it was vitally important I stand there myself.  The moment I realised that ambition, I knew it was more valuable than I could ever have pitched in a grant proposal.  The tiered foothills of Mt Terror to the east, the back of the Knoll, the strip of blue sea visible from the igloo, the 'porcelain teacup' of the hollow between here and there, and most profoundly, how the igloo hangs off the edge of nowhere on this exposed finger of land.  In the midst of a blizzard, with howling drift on all sides as well as above and below, it would be a tiny mote of solidity suspended in the vast blank nothing. 

  My companions must have been a little confused by my behaviour.  I hardly took any photos of the igloo.  It was interesting, for sure, but the state it's in now would not help me much, to draw it how it was then.  I took a lot of photos of the surroundings, but on two sides it was blowing mist so that didn't take very long.  Mostly what I did was sit with my back against a sill of rock near the igloo and just stare and stare and stare.  I wanted to memorize everything – not just where things were, but the wind, the silvery gleam on the snow, the feeling of being utterly at the extremity of all things.  It's one thing to read Cherry's memories, and boggle at the experience; it's quite another to stand where they were made, and be able to measure your own experience against theirs.  Standing there in the light, I could see it dark. Their blizzard would have been blowing twice as hard as the wind that could have knocked me over.  Riding behind Cherry's eyes, memory viewed through the lens of grief and nostalgia, his companions fill the frame, so one does not get a proper sense of how extremely tiny they all were in this vast howling nothing.  And, of course, they had only themselves to get them home, not a waiting helicopter. 

 We had another meal, and we wanted it; and as the good hoosh ran down into our feet and hands, and up into our cheeks and ears and brains, we discussed what we would do next.  Birdie was all for another go at the Emperor penguins.  Dear Birdie, he would never admit that he was beaten – I don't know that he ever really was! … There could really be no common-sense doubt: we had to go back … [285]  They packed what they could that night and got what sleep they could in their horrible icy bags.  The next morning it looked like it was going to start blizzing again; they loaded the camp onto one of the sledges and stashed  in a corner of the igloo what they didn't want or need to take back, along with the other sledge, and set off into a rising wind.  After only a mile or so the weather forced them to camp, and Birdie tied a line from the apex of the tent around the outside of his bag where he slept: if the tent went he was going too. [287] 

  The journey back was still cold, but only hauling one sledge, they made much better time.  The men were exhausted, however, and their equipment suffering from their ordeals, so it didn't afford as much comfort or protection as it had on the way out.  But they were on their way home, and justifiably confident of getting there. 

 It was the helicopter that called time on my visit to Cape Crozier.  The anemometer had clocked 38 knots at one point and nothing looked likely to improve.  In the interest of fuel efficiency, the machine was a nimble fibreglass damselfly, not built to withstand this sort of onslaught, and our pilot was worried for his craft.  So my coordinator came and told me it was time to go.  The trek back was definitely windier than it had been when we arrived, and it felt longer, too, though that may have been because I had my head down, focusing on my footing, rather than looking at lichen and petrified wood.  We piled onto the waiting machine and with no undue delay were back in the air. One last wide loop around Igloo Spur, then we rode the wind seaward, and the igloo on the edge of nowhere vanished in the mist behind. 

  It is extraordinary how often angels and fools do the same thing in this life, and I have never been able to settle which we were on this journey. [273] 

  I understand why they did what they did, and made the decisions they made in context, but I have not let go of that impression that they were completely insane.  I've done pretty crazy things for an abstract goal, and while sleep-deprived, so on one hand I hesitate to judge.  On the other, a tiny unrepresentative sample of the extremity they endured beggars belief that they didn't start the trek home the minute they'd got the eggs, if not a lot sooner.  Surely they noticed that it was horrible?   

  But who is the more foolish here?  They threw themselves into the worst Antarctica had to offer in pursuit of knowledge, which could only be acquired this way.  They may not have known how bad it was going to be, but they knew it would be pretty bad, and went anyway, because they determined it to be worthwhile. 

  We, on the other hand, were only there because they had been there. 

  Correction: I was there because they had been there.  The others would not have been there except for me. 

  So who is the bigger fool? 

*All quotes in this post are from The Worst Journey in the World by Apsley Cherry-Garrard, with corresponding page numbers, except this one, which his from his introduction to Edward Wilson of the Antarctic, p.xiv 

[nyullm2020]

My favorite serene spots in NYC

Sometimes you just need a place to find a little bit of peace in this crazy city - to read, have a coffee, people watch, or even just scroll on your phone... With that in mind, and as my time is wrapping up in this amazing place, here are my favorite places in the city to hide out:

1. Elizabeth St Garden

This is a quirky 1-acre community sculpture garden in the Nolita (which stands for North of Little Italy) neighborhood of Manhattan, located on Elizabeth Street between Prince and Spring Streets.

Unfortunately, it is set to be redeveloped into a senior’s village - but there is a lawsuit on foot to stop this. Get there soon, and fingers crossed the suit succeeds because this place is a true gem.

2. La Lanterna Caffe, Greenwich Village

Amazing gem of a restaurant/café right across the road from NYU Law School. It’s very non-descript from the front, but opens up to this gorgeous back patio. The perfect spot for an aperol spritz, coffee, or pasta!

3. Conservatory Garden, Central Park

And even though it’s hardly groundbreaking - just Central Park in general through the seasons! 

I saw the fall leaves in November 🍁

... the cherry blossoms in April 🌸

...and the lush summer greenery

4. Brooklyn Bridge Park 

You can walk over the Brooklyn Bridge (like I did in the picture below last August) or get the subway to Dumbo or Brooklyn Heights. There’re plenty of basketball courts in that blue structure over the water, that stellar view of the skyline, and lots of grass to kick back and read. 

5. Brooklyn Heights Promenade

Now this is one of my favorite places in the city - especially since I moved to Brooklyn Heights in March and can sit and take in this skyline view on the benches with lunch or coffee! As you can see, it’s located just above Brooklyn Bridge Park, and there are cute dogs and babies on walks all down the promenade. This is the perfect place to relax in the sun, or take a romantic sunset stroll before dinner in Dumbo. 

This was last night at around 7pm 🙌

Spring tulips along the promenade in April:

6. West Side Highway/Hudson River Park

When I lived in Soho near NYU, this was my go-to running/exercise spot. There are grassy piers and boardwalks, these cool wooden swings, wooden benches overlooking New Jersey, tennis courts, summery bars and restaurants, and even mini-golf!

Hard to complain about running in fall with this view:

...or even in December with that biting winter cold when I got to see this sunset!

7. Wandering around Cobble Hill and Carroll Gardens, Brooklyn

This is a little bit off the beaten path, but you could make a day of heading to Brooklyn Heights Promenade/Brooklyn Bridge Park and then wandering around these nearby neighborhoods. 

There are plenty of good cafes and restaurants nearby, and the well-kept brownstones and incredible care put into gardening just puts me in a good mood!

8. Vanderbilt Hall Courtyard, NYU

Last but certainly not least is NYU Law’s very own courtyard at Vanderbilt Hall. It’s pretty all year round, but especially in Spring when the magnolias, cherry blossoms and daffodils are out.

It’s a great spot to sit with a coffee and start all those readings you’re behind on, or to eat lunch with some of your LLM friends.

Here are some other places I’m hoping to get to in my last few weeks here:

Pier 35, Lower East Side

Fort Tryon, Met Cloisters

Up past the Bronx

Prospect Park, Brooklyn

Enjoy! I almost wish I could live this year and discovering these places all over again 🙌

[woundgallery]

Four Poems for Robin Gary Snyder Siawashing It Out Once in Siuslaw Forest I slept under rhododendron All night blossoms fell Shivering on a sheet of cardboard Feet stuck in my pack Hands deep in my pockets Barely able to sleep. I remembered when we were in school Sleeping together in a big warm bed We were the youngest lovers When we broke up we were still nineteen. Now our friends are married You teach school back east I don’t mind living this way Green hills the long blue beach But sometimes sleeping in the open I think back when I had you. A Spring Night in Shokoku-ji Eight years ago this May We walked under cherry blossoms At night in an orchard in Oregon. All that I wanted then Is forgotten now, but you. Here is the night In a garden of the old capital I feel the trembling ghost of Yugao I remember your cool body Naked under a summer cotton dress. An Autumn Morning in Shokoku-ji Last night watching the Pleiades, Breath smoking in the moonlight, Bitter memory like vomit Choked my throat. I unrolled a sleeping bag On mats on the porch Under thick autumn stars. In dream you appeared (Three times in nine years) Wild, cold, and accusing. I woke shamed and angry: The pointless wars of the heart. Almost dawn. Venus and Jupiter. The first time I have Ever seen them close. December at Yase You said, that October, In the tall dry grass by the orchard When you chose to be free, ``Again, someday, maybe ten years.'' After college I saw you One time. You were strange. And I was obsessed with a plan. Now ten years and more have Gone by: I've always known where you where— I might have gone to you Hoping to win your love back. You still are single. I didn't. I thought I must make it alone. I Have done that. Only in dream, like this dawn, Does the grave, awed intensity Of our young love Return to my mind, to my flesh. We had what the others All crave and seek for; We left it behind at nineteen. I feel ancient, as though I had Lived many lives. And may never now know If I am a fool Or have done what my karma demands.

[thebestintoronto]

10 Places Within One Hour From Toronto To Explore

There are days where you want to get into an automobile and also check out. Yet, you just intend to do an excursion from Toronto. What are the places within one hour from Toronto to check out?

We have actually done many one-day journeys from our home town of Burlington that anyone in the Toronto area can do as well. Although there's traffic throughout the day, if you're heading out early in the early morning to these locations, you'll have a quick drive.

Leading Listing of Places Within One Hour From Toronto For Day Trips

Based upon our experiences, I'm sharing a list of favourite places within one hour from Toronto for day trips. We have actually gone to these areas a number of times over the years and also have seen some adjustments in how many tourists check them out.

Our best tips are to go out early in the morning. Load something to drink and eat. And put on the best footwear. Prepare to be outdoors! And finally, pack your perseverance if it's crowded. It's still worth the effort getting there and exploring!

1// Hendrie Valley-- Royal Botanical Gardens (RBG), Burlington

Grab your comfortable walking shoes, binoculars or telephoto lenses for the DSLR camera. Check out the many birds, little animals, amphibians as well as insects that call this protected valley home.

Hendrie Valley has a boardwalk around the marshy locations. Too, it has a route that runs around the slopes with old growth trees. This is an area where you can stop briefly as well as wait silently for the wildlife to turn up. Nuthatches love to munch seed off your hands.

Routes right here are rather easy and you may intend to head over to Cootes Paradise close by for even more expedition. Or you can check out Burlington's midtown core or the Royal Botanical Gardens.

Cost: Free to enter; paid car park. Directions: Significant access points are along Levels Rd, Hamilton and consist of RBG Centre and Cherry Hill Gate. For more information check out the RBG.

2// Canadian Art At The McMichael Canadian Art Collection

One of my favorite places within one hr from Toronto is the McMichael Canadian Art Collection.

Situated almost a hr's drive north of Toronto in Kleinburg, the McMichael gallery is the best place to see any one of the Group of 7's paintings, and also the jobs of my preferred painter, Emily Carr. Other art on display is First Nations as well as Inuit art, as well as contemporary, modern Canadian jobs.

If inspired by the paints to obtain closer to nature, have a look at the many trails on the preservation lands (regarding 100 acres) by the East Humber Valley right alongside the gallery. The Kortright Preservation Centre is right alongside it if you are wanting a longer stroll.

See the McMichael Art Gallery internet site for updated information on schedule and also tickets.

Instructions: Take Hwy. 400 north to Major Mackenzie Drive. Transform left (west) on Significant Mackenzie Drive to Islington Method. Transform right (north) on Islington Avenue into the village of Kleinburg. Try the Art Bus solution, which uses transport from midtown Toronto to the gallery.

3// Invest An Afternoon Or Evening In Port Credit Rating, Mississauga

If you haven't seen Port Credit rating lately, you might be amazed by the revitalization the area is undertaking. This location, as well as specifically the waterside, will make you desire downtown Toronto had the exact same feel and look.

About an hour's drive from midtown Toronto, take the QEW to Cawthra Rd or Hurontario Rd. Head south as well as you will certainly find yourself in the heart of a dynamic community.

There are so many points to do in Mississauga. Dining, walking along the marina and lighthouse or getting an ice cream on a warm day are simply a few things.

Stroll along the waterfront. If you head east of the Port Credit Rating Harbour Marina you'll get to Adamson Estate, one of the historical structures in Mississauga. Heading west, you will travel through beautiful J C Saddington Park and also Rhododendron Gardens.

At night, check out the nightlife at one of the many bars and also lounges. It's a lot easier to take pleasure in the night right here, than in midtown Toronto.

Port Credit report car park: paid parking along Hurontario as well as some side road. Your best choice absolutely free parking is the car park behind Snug Harbour Dining Establishment (Stavebank Roadway, southern of Lakeshore Road), and the huge lot by the Port Credit report library (entry to the parking area is via Stavebank Roadway, north of Lakeshore, initial road on the left at High Street).

4// Walk At Mono Cliffs Provincial Park

You 'd think it was much further, however if you're up early, Mono Cliffs is one of the areas within one hour from Toronto that takes you right into nature.

Probably among the quieter hiking trails this near Toronto, Mono Hills is rich and also green during the summertime period.

Bring great hiking footwear with treads, bug spray and great deals of water with you. The tracks at the 750-hectare Mono Cliffs Provincial Park take you into timbers, marshy locations as well as up steep hillsides that I like to call "Broken heart Ridges". This park is part of the Niagara Escarpment. It includes a sedimentary rock plain, rock crevices and a field packed with wild plants as well as blossoms.

There are many tracks at Mono Cliffs Provincial Park supplying a number of hrs well worth of roaming. Views from the top of the cliff hunts are pretty on a clear day.

Instructions from Toronto: take Airport terminal Road to Mono Centre Roadway (Dufferin Region Road 8), and afterwards go west to third Line E.H.S., and afterwards north one kilometres on third Line E.H.S.

Expense: car parking-- for one hr $3.00; 2 hours $5.00; complete day $11.00.

For more information concerning Mono Hills, check out the write up on treking at Mono Hillside in the wintertime on Outdoor Adventurers.

5// Have a look at The Falls In Hamilton

Hamilton has more than 126 falls. Yes, you read that properly. Several of the most amazing ones are Tews Falls, Webster Falls, Albion Falls, as well as Sherman Falls. A smaller sized location with an incredible waterfall is Tiffany Falls.

Discovering the waterfalls in Hamilton has actually become one of the most preferred day trips from Toronto. Thanks to blog posts like ours from numerous years ago to huge on-line publications such as Narcity, people searching for excursion destinations have figured this set out.

Why is it so popular to go falls chasing? If you need to listen to the rush of water and also to see something besides dingy glass condos, this is the location for you to obtain a big dose of nature. Keep in mind to bring your hiking boots/shoes if you wish to stand up close. Flip flops are just a silly point to wear on trails around the drops (stones can get slick and also you need great soles that grasp the rocks).

Make certain you examine the information pertaining to car park on the Hamilton Preservation website. Some of the waterfalls are so hectic that they require off-site vehicle parking.

NOTE: Since 2017, not all waterfalls are quickly accessible. Respect the warnings as several have actually been up to their deaths or have endured terrific injuries over the past couple of years.

Travel time from downtown Toronto on a Saturday early morning: 1 to 1-1/2 hours, potentially 2 hours, depending on which drops you are seeing.

6// Rattray Marsh In Mississauga

You're most likely questioning why this place is on my listing of close excursion from Toronto. It seems unexciting, yet if you like exceptionally peaceful places early in the early morning, this set is right up there.

Right along the shores of Lake Ontario, you can delight in an oasis of wildlife, snuggled among the country roads of southern Mississauga. We love Rattray Marsh for early morning strolls.

If you prepare to prepare to spend the day in Mississauga, head eastern to Port Debt for breakfast, a stroll along the marina as well as buying.

Travel time from midtown Toronto (early on Saturday morning): 45 minutes to 1 hour.

7// Royal Botanical Gardens-- Burlington/Hamilton

Fancy a stroll in the middle of the flowers? Have a new camera that you want to check out for some attractive photos of blooms in bloom?

At the border of Burlington as well as Hamilton is the Royal Botanical Gardens (RBG for brief) that are worth the drive west. Take the QEW to Hwy 403 (Hamilton). Leave at Waterdown Road as well as go south for concerning 800 metres to Plains Road West. Deal with 2 km. The entry to the RBG will certainly be on the left.

Even if it's drizzling, the RBG is a cool place to discover, even if it's for lunch.

While in Burlington, discover the tiny midtown core by Lake Ontario consisting of Spencer Smith Park and the many places to eat and shop.

Travel time from midtown Toronto early in the early morning 1 hour to 1 hr 15 minutes.

8// Mountsberg Raptor Centre As Well As Sanctuary

This is one of my favorite locations within one hour from Toronto to go to for a variety of factors.

Fan of unsafe birds? Wish to see a Bald Eagle up close and also personal? Love owls?

The Raptor Centre at Mountsberg Discussion Area, simply west of Milton, is a must-visit for a walk amongst over 15 species of birds. Have a look at the reservoir to view nesting Osprey birds.

There's a ranch on-site for little kids, so this is a dreamland to check out for households. And also don't let cooler Loss weather hinder you from a browse through. Mountsberg is one our preferred Conservation Areas in the Greater Toronto Location for Loss hikes also.

Keep in mind: Leave your canine in the house if visiting below. Pets, even on a leash, aren't enabled anywhere near the raptor cage locations.

Traveling time from midtown Toronto on a Saturday morning: 1 hour.

9// Bellwood Lake Conservation Area

A bit further from Toronto, however still worthwhile of a day trip is Bellwood Lake Conservation Area Found near Guelph, Bellwood Lake is a tank that's a perfect spot to dip your toes on a hot day, have a barbecue and do a bit of angling.

Travel time from downtown Toronto on an early Saturday early morning: 1-1/2 hrs to 1 hour 45 minutes, depending on traffic.

10// Forks of the Credit Report River/ Belfountain Sanctuary.

Just over an hour far from Toronto by highway, is Belfountain Conservation Area as well as the nearby Forks of the Credit River. The routes right here take you along rivers, with bridges, hillsides and lavish timbers. Belfountain is a shorter stroll, while those that intend to truly extend their legs can attempt the Forks of the Credit rating.

Other than hiking, the winding roads around are a preferred place for a drive on a warm day.

The post “ 10 Places Within One Hour From Toronto To Explore “ was seen first on Suburban Tourist

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: Thursday 17 May 1838

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A-‘s cousin came this morning soon after nine a week too soon fine morning F56 ½° at 7 ½ am wrote the whole of the last page and breakfast at 9 ¼ in ½ hour and had talkathon with the washerwoman whom I quietly put into as much rage as she dared shew – would not pay her bill – but said I would settle it with the lady of the house or with monsieur she wanted the bill back again but this she would not give up – had just written so far at 10 10 according to the ‘almanach administratif et statistique et de la cour d’appel de Liège et de son Ressort. 43me année. 1838. Liège. Imprimerie de Jacques Desoer Libraix Place St. Lambert, n°774’ vid. p. 157 governor M. le baron Charles H. A. J. Vandensteen de Jehay, Mt. St. Martin, n°614. and vide p. 211 population de la ville de Liège 1 January 1837 = 59.363 ames – or population par quartier Sud, 18,251 ; Nord 14,817, Est 14,606 ; Ouest 11,689. and vide p. 279 to 284 inclusive account of the anniversary – p. 282 Galerie Zoologique ‘pourra devenir précieux par l’achat du célèbre cabinet de [fer] M. Schmerling’ – M. D. – took a commissionaire and George and A- and I went out (walked) at 10 35 – 1st to Collardin’s took back the 2 plans of Liège 4/. and got in exchange a German French and English vocabulary 4/. and a Belgian Livre de poste 2/50 – left these at home and then went for 10 minutes to the cathedral (St. Paul) -  neat, clean, marble skirted, handsome remarkably comfortable church – with handsome painted window east and two partly painted in the transept north and south a German had just been at the top of this church – then to St. Jacques at 11 and sent George and the commissionaire home for Oddy – old gothic church very neat and interesting and handsome founded by bishop Baldric in 1014 – the cathedral ceiling painted in a running pattern, that of St. Jacques much handsome – good deal of [?] imitating the effect of guilding – the church undergoing great repairs – the man who shewed us about said to the 300,000 francs? of which government gave 25,000 fr. but what was that – waited for the servants ½ hour – then 5 minutes longer and off to Les mineurs at 11 35 and the priests’ college adjoining the bishops’ palace – 140 etudiàns, at 400fr. per annum – In the corridors an excellent gravure of Rome, and chronological gravure of the heads and dates of all the popes, all the Kings of Spain, and all the Roma emperors – saw the dining room kitchen and lecture room – good, but very plain rooms, nothing to see – the bishops’ palace not shewn a merely pretty good private house – the church (all the same corps de bâtiment) neat clean very white and pretty and handsome enough – all the churches here less than usual encumbered with Roman catholic frippery – off from here at 1 35 – ½ hour at a booksellers in passing and bought several little things, not dear – then up to the church of St. Martin more striking in exterior and like commanding situation than worth visiting for its interior – pretty little oak-carved pulpit some pictures by Latour, and some tolerable little basso-relievo marble medallions by Delcour who sculptured the foundation (Virgin and child on pedestal water from the mouths of 4 lions into as many stone troughs) in the Place de St. Paul – from St. Martins’ went to the adjoining barrière and looked down upon the barrière St. Marguerite by which we had entered and close to which was our coal-pit – fine view on this side – but magnificent one from the garden of the cafè de belle vue looking down to the other side the hill, upon Liège and its fine river and voisinage – vineyards and gardens and long chimneys but very little smoke to be seen from houses or engines – our commissionaire said the coal of Liege did not make much smoke – true there is not much – a large 100 horse engine does not make more (as far as we have seen) than a common kitchen fire in England! How is this? – Delighted with the view – sent the servants home to dinner before 2 – ourselves back at 2 20 – got down the hill by a near little narrow way along the Derrière l’Eglise de St. Jean and soon at the theatre and at home – A- tired but lay on the sofa – made herself some tea as yesterday and seemed quite refreshed again in about an hour – I read the almanach de Liège lent us by our host and then till 4 wrote all but the 1st 5 lines of today – A- and I went out at 4 5 – bought pretty blue silk pincushion topped boite aux gants 12/. – then sauntered along the streets to the university – sought out our portière – she was with a party of French went with them to the salle (lecture room) – very large good handsome circular squared room – benches en amphithéâtre for the étudiants, and above a colonade gallery – very good effect – to the cabinet d’histoire naturelle mineralogy and geology and in the cabinet de physique et anatomie – mathematical instruments and anatomical preparation everything very nice – the cabinet of M. le docteur Schmerling not yet purchased but les administrateurs sur le pied de l’acheter – among the coal fossil vegetable remains saw one from la mine de l’espérance which it seems is at Seraing and belongs to Mr. Cockerill  and the woman as I understood said it was deeper than the houillère of Sainte Marguerite – an hour at the university then sauntered along the quai to the post the singular looking old brick building that Mt. de Piète – went up one of the several little streets (opening on to the Quai) not 4ft. wide I should guess about 3ft. 8in. wide according to my parasol returned by the marché and called on booksellers Place St. Lambert and bought the Liège almanac (vid. line 5 of today) etc. – home at 7 5 dinner about 7 ¼ in an hour – at 9 ¼ went down to see Mr. Mathiolis’ cellars, kitchen baths, and lastly his stable to see a Hannover horse (aetatis 9) that he played all sorts of coaxing tricks – with to shew how quiet it was – an hours’ business – his fruit cupboard and foyer de cuisine the best worth seeing things – A- tired – it was too much for her – fine day – F59° now at 10 ¾ pm – fine day – rain from about 8 am

the portiere at the university said how cold it was and that there was snow here on Tuesday morning at 6 am

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A- lay on the sofa poorly busy getting the boiler to heat water and undressing her with A- heating water or one thing or other till 12 20 – then leaving her in bed, sat looking over the books bought today till one tonight – then hearing her crying went to her and gave her some cherry brandy  she said her head and neck were bad she wants more than I can do for her  a good strong fellow