Rustles of Spring

With only one snow day last winter, Spring is early and it is going to be a dandy. 

Of Times Past

We were walking about the Village this morning and ran across a father-son team coming out of the Coronet on the corner of Main and Front.  They were walking right in front of us and waiting, as we overheard, for the pharmacy to open.  A few feet further we happily found out that it wasn't someone needing pills but indeed it was that Colonial carries lightweight fishing poles (we know because we have granddaughters and have been there before - SE corner of the store - eye height), perfect for sitting on a dock and dangling something over the edge.

Chances are, in middle of March, somewhere between slim and none that this quest will come up with a fish but that really isn't the point and for the dad in that little combo, it wasn't of any importance at all.
He may have had a grandfather like Mr. Lupton in the photo, sitting on roughly the same intended dock space but a hundred years earlier.  Mr. Lupton perhaps was catching something or maybe he just like to sit and fish, come what may.

That is the beauty of old photographs with people in them that you know nothing about.  We could make up a story about Mr. Lupton waiting patiently, pole at his side, for school to finish for the day and his grandson would stop on over and they would talk some while pretending to fish.  Maybe Mr. Lupton was about to catch the whopper and bring it to a family dinner.  A good case could be made that Mr. Lupton just wanted a time to look at the line in the water, waiting for that jiggle and tug, line tight and singing.

The father-son made its way to Colonial Drugs and down the street to the side door and disappeared. In our mind's eye, they certainly would reemerge, poles in hand, and down to the dock - farthest point from land - all the while looking down for a set of eyes looking back up, the later waiting for the future Mr. Lupton.

Notes from Far Flung Places

The website associated with this blog, http://www.greenportvillage.com/, has more than a few readers from the Philippines all courtesy of word of mouth from a fine fellow who vacationed here during the summer as a child.  I'm sure they will recognize Shaw Boulevard (if memory serves me) in Mandaluyong City - essentially dead center Manila.

Well over half a century ago, our family almost moved there - I mean right there - as my father was offered a position with Gulf Oil as the assistant general manager in the Philippines and S.E. Asia. He didn't take the position and my life was led here rather than a life that started there.

One of the perks was membership in the WackWack Golf and Country Club.  Aside from a terrific name (you can view their website here: http://www.wackwack.com/) it represented a zone so foreign to my then 5 years old world view I am not sure, looking back, on what I would have made of it.  My dad was there during WWII and although he recognized the career opportunity, his memories of less than a decade before were too vivid for him to cope with it.  Gulf Oil flew him and my mom there to check it out and he did get to play WackWack but in the end, they declined and I was relegated to life in the Midwest. 

It is in that context that when I check for "visitors" to the greenportvillage.com website and find that 100 or so this month alone have found their way here that I think about me finding my way there in some sort of cosmic "near miss" of circumstances.

Things that go Bump in the Night

March is, by all accounts, something of a dab month with the only spots of bright green - not so much on the lawns or in the trees -  but on St. Patrick's day.  We like the daylight but the real action of late has been after sundown what with Mars coming so close and Venus seemingly brighter than all get out.  We also note that aside from the wind in leafless trees (different sound of course than summer with the leaves out) night time could be just about anytime.  That brings us to our latest heavenly event - sunspot 1429 and the aurora.

Farther north, the aurora is a petty constant evening event.  Not going to do the Mr. Wizard Science Class but when this sunspot went all crazy earlier this week, the solar "flare" that took a about a day to get here set off all kinds of great light shows - unfortunately you have to be living where you can get frostbite to watch them and we, at 41 degrees 10 minutes north were kinda left out of the fun. All those ions from the flare get caught up in our magnetic fields and the science of it translates to great viewing.  Oh well.

That doesn't stop us from to peering out the north and hoping for a glimpse.  The Aurora Borealis is the one we see up here. Aurora Australis is the term for the lights south of the equator....something we didn't know. Actually most of us have only seen the lights in photographs so to get to see them is pretty rare and must have led to all kinds of superstitions and conjectures before the science was figured out.

So this event, this big flare from sunspot 1429 to the charged particles playing in the upper atmosphere guided by the magnetic field - all this taking place from start to end by events that we can't really see (don't look at the sun! and ooops - we aren't far enough north or south tonight)...well it doesn't keep us from looking anyway and trying to figure it all out.

Starlight Starbright

What a treat.  We went out to the wood pile for a few logs to carry us through the evening fire and off to the west was our friend the crescent moon and Venus just above it.  We think Jupiter is  just off to the left and it was quite a treat.
The view from our front room, safe from the wind and cold (we aren't dumb), with a warm fire, some appropriate evening music prompted us to turn off the lights and adjust our seating to watch this little show for a bit.

When we were kids, parents bought telescopes because we were consumed by either the middle 50's War of the Worlds movie which scared us all to death or the Sputnik thrill when we rushed outside to see if we could see this little basketball object that seemed to scare the country as much as invasions from Mars.  Our first telescope arrived in the midst of all that and that first view of the moon is in our minds to this day.  We lived in a rural setting and ambiant light was nowhere to be found so the viewing was great, particularly in the summer when we could rest on the cold cement of the patio during the hot summer nights and peer up.

We saw a lot of things looking up - the moon was always center stage but with a telescope, Venus was as big as a golf ball and the moon filled the viewing lens.  When things wobbled off line we saw black; the black of space and we saw it again last evening viewing up at the moon and its early evening companion.  This blackness is like no other and we talked about how this moon was just hung out there on a string, pulled along against a backdrop of nothing.  So it must have seemed to our ancestors or the folks who were here before we brought "civilization" to the area whatever that was.

We went on about our evening rituals but this morning, at first light and the morning star Venus visible and the moon that ghostly white, we talked again about what the ancients must have thought about all this.  If they could have seen the true blackness of the space around these objects --- well....

Local Lore

Off of Orient Point on the eastern tip of Long Island is a stretch of water called Plum Gut.  It is a channel between the eastern end of Long Island Sound where it meets up with the Atlantic Ocean and Peconic Bay. There is a tough tidal pull through there and it gets plenty rough - but it is where the fish are and a trip to "the Gut" in a late summer evening with a full moon is something to remember.  On the map, so you are oriented,  this stretch of water is on the left side.  The Island is the famous or infamous Plum Island.

Every morning a ferry boat leaves Orient Point full of Plum Island workers and docks near that little man made bay. From there you walk off the dock and onto a waiting bus for the short ride to the main facility (upper left part of the island overlooking the Gut).  It is really the only part of the island still in use. The roads and other distinguishable features are from days and decades gone by when it was at first Fort Terry and then, the chemical warfare facility after the second world war.  The east end of the island (right side of the picture) is the business end of Fort Terry as it was were the great anti-naval howitzers and cannons were located. The howitzers have long since disappeared but their remains and mountings are still there.  They are the round white spots on the spine of the island are perhaps best pictured as "pits" maybe 50 yards in diameter and several stories deep.  Tunnels and roads connect them.

Why this remembrances today?  This date in history was when the USS Maine blew up in Havana Harbor and we launched the Spanish American War. About 114 years ago right about now in fact.  "Remember the Maine - to Hell with Spain" was the real slogan of which we remember only the first part.  Fort Terry got green lighted because we were assuming that the Spanish Fleet was going to sail into Long Island Sound up to the East River and level New York so these fortifications were built.

Howitzers are huge weapons of war.  Where cannons have long barrels, howitzers are short and squat and are meant to shoot shells up high and rain down on the enemy targets. They were ideal for knocking out ships of the time as all the armor on a ship was in the sides so if shot directly at it the shells would kinda bounce off. Howitzers shot  high, arcing shots, that came down nearly vertically (in comparison) and went through the decks like a bomb from a bomber. Fort Terry had these and they shot shells about the size of Volkswagen bugs (slight exaggeration).  When Fort Terry was good to go, it could land a shell with precision anywhere in about 20 miles of the place and certain parts of the south shore of Long Island along the deserted parts are marked with huge potholes - 50 feet across to this day - that evidence the "let's get it right" gunnery practice. Unless a ship was carrying howitzers that could come "down" at a target, being in one of these holes was about the safest place on earth in case trouble broke out.

So that is Fort Terry on Plum Island, set in motion to some extent by the sinking of the Maine a long time ago.  We were talking to someone who  spent some time there and got a "cook's tour" on a number of occasions, and the conversations were fascinating. With Homeland Security the way it is, if you wash ashore while fishing in the Gut the fellas with guns will surround you before you hit the beach.  It will be unpleasant to say the least.

Such a little island. An outpost if you will.  It didn't chose its fate. My hunch is that it just wanted to be an island, pristine, gorgeous and out of the way.

Hey there. It's Valentine's Day.

No more fitting piece of music to woo the intended to your side of the stream...(text is underneath - don't worry that you can't understand the words as it is in "Occitan" - a French regional dialect - but the meaning is very clear and the English translation is also below).  You are free to buy chocolate as well.

Pastré, dè dèlaï l'aïo, as gaïré dé boun tèms?

Dio lou baïlèro lèro, lèro, lèro, lèro, baïlèro, lô!
È n'aï pa gaïre, è dio, tu?
Baïlèro lèro, lèro, lèro, lèro, baïlèro, lô!

Pastré, lou prat faï flour, li cal
gorda toun troupel!
Dio lou baïlèro lèro, lèro, lèro, lèro, baïlèro, lô!
L'erb es pu fin' ol prat d'oïci!
Baïlèro lèro, lèro, lèro, lèro, baïlèro, lô!

Pastré, couci foraï, en obal io lou bel riou!
Dio lou baïlèro lèro, lèro, lèro, lèro, baïlèro, lô!
Es pèromè, té baô çirca!
Baïlèro lèro, lèro, lèro, lèro, baïlèro, lô!

in English - (for use over a romantic dinner)

Shepherd across the river, you don't seem to be afraid,

sing the Bailero, etc.
Indeed I'm not, and you too,
sing the Bailero, etc.

Shepherd, the meadow is in bloom,
come over here to
sing the Bailero, etc.
The grass is greener on this side,
you come here, Bailero, etc.

Shepherd, the stream separates us, and I can't cross it,
sing the Bailero, etc.
Then I'll come and get you further down,
Bailero, etc.