WHY READ HISTORY? — To re-experience EXCELLENCE

Thomas Paine from Internet [5].pn

“These are the times that try men’s souls.”  But, no, this line was not penned nor typed nor tweeted in the 21st Century.  It is one of the slogans that made the American Revolution possible.  That generated and strengthened bonds among “we few, we band of brothers”, striking tyranny from our land in the 1700’s.

thomas paine sign re Common Sense from Internet

The eloquent and heroic Thomas Paine went on to declare,  The summer soldier and the sunshine patriot will, in this crisis, shrink from the service of their country; but he that stands by it now, deserves the love and thanks of man and woman.”  George Washington and Thomas Jefferson were known to credit the Spirit of ’76 [which barely existed in that era of barefoot soldiers, yet steadily grew], to the words of this writer. 

Strategic Retreat

The Legendary Crossing, which may never have happened without Paine’s heroic urgings

Nearby Bordentown is the only place where Paine ever owned a home.  A slight, compelling statue recreates the man without whose pamphlets we might not have a nation.

19171278-A-statue-of-Thomas-Paine-father-of-the-American-Revolution-in-Bordentown-New-Jersey--Stock-Photo

Paine’s  courage was by no means limited to 1776 — for he would also pen the stirring phrase, “Government without a Constitution is power without a right.”

We the People from Internet orig

 

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13 Star Flag Chestnut Neck Revolutionary War Monument Winter 2017

Thirteen-Star Flag in Winter, Chestnut Neck, NJ, Battleground —

British Won This One

 

I am steeping myself in history books, of the time of TR, FDR, ER and always Churchill; alternating with our own American Revolution, because I am starved for excellence.

Right now, David Hackett Fischer’s stunning account, “Washington’s Crossing” “hath me in thrall.”  I am particularly moved, proud of our state as I am, to read, “Ordinary people in New Jersey came together to do something about their lost liberty.”  This wise author describes our ‘rag, tag and bobtail’ soldiers as “an army of optimistic fatalists.”  Writing of the Crossing of the Delaware, Colonel Henry Knox declared, “Perseverance accomplished what at first seemed impossible.” 

We are a country that first seemed impossible.  Our neighbors sacrificed everything — there is an entire chapter on the Hessian’s near-total looting of New Jersey homes and of course farms and farmlands.

George Washington penned a note to himself on the Pennsylvania side before the crossing, “VICTORY OR DEATH.”  Our challenge was that simple, that austere.

One of the miracles was that “in the end, not a man was lost to the river,” despite towering, occluding ice floes, ice in the Durham boats, a sleet-laden nor’easter that struck as the men boarded their crafts at McConkey’s Ferry.

Surely, all this did not happen to have it tweeted away in the 21st Century!

Let Tom Paine have the last word: “Some evils in the world are worse than war.  And one of them is tyranny.”

Protest every way you know how!

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Crossing the Delaware in Quest of Antidotes to 21st-Century Reality

general-george-washington--delaware-river-on-the-eve- from Internet

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Your NJWILDBEAUTY blogger spent ‘the shank of the day’ in bucolic, historic Bucks County.  Yes, yet again.  Alongside our timeless river, The River of Independence.  This waterways shad, John McPhee insists, saved Washington’s army at Valley Forge.  We wandered alongside the model of Washington’s Durham Boats for the Crossing, then the strangely romantic group sculpture at Washington’s Crossing State Park.

As we cross her shimmering. expanse, I try to keep her serenity alive in my own being.

Strategic Retreat

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A friend and I breakfasted sumptuously, alongside that river, in a structure a couple of hundred years old: The Lumberville General Store.  It is allied with the Black Bass Inn, which predates the Revolution – 1745 as I recall.  Both in and ‘Store’ are lovingly restored by the legendary Laura Thompson of Thompson Toyota in Doylestown.  She had been my neighbor at Village II in New Hope, where I lived (and fought to save the Delaware River from the Pump) from 1981 into 1987.

After hiking the footbridge over to Bull’s Island, my yesterday-friend and I drove through ageless burgeoning croplands, first in Pennsylvania, then in our New Jersey.   We punctuated our ramblings with a stop at a tiny farmstand off Route 31, stocking up on peaches and tomatoes from our Garden State.

All the while, fleeing this vile century.  All the while, seeking America.  OUR America!

View from Bridge South and Bulls Island July 2017

FOOTBRIDGE OVER DELAWARE FROM LUMBERVILLE TO BULL’S ISLAND

Only to arrive back here with a thud.

First projects upon return, as always, are signing petitions, to counter the Purloiner of the White House.  Save the Arctic.  Stop All Fracking.  Prevent oil drilling off any coasts.  One “SIGN HERE/SUBMIT”  laments and tries to counter the loss of bees.

I don’t know about the rest of NJWILDBEAUTY readers.  I have to confess, my trusty antidotes to harsh realities are seeming too little, too late, and frankly frail!

My Illinois sister sends me this wise quote from Patrick Henry.  Prescient.  A patriot when that word meant heroism, courage and magnificent leadership.

My sister empathizes with my condition these days, having suffered in her own state from narcissistic tyranny in the name of a governor.  As for the national situation, Marilyn echoes my own despair.  The concept of our vaunted liberty, –let alone citizens’ rights–, seems rare and imperiled as the bees.

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Readying Riverton July 2017

Although I posted this the day after the so-called ‘election’ of 2016, I return to Yeats — ever the prophet…

“The Constitution is not an instrument for the government to restrain the people, it is an instrument for the people to restrain the government, lest it come to dominate our lives and interests.”
Patrick Henry
1736-1799

William Butler Yeats (1865-1939)

 

THE SECOND COMING

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
  Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.

Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: a waste of desert sand;
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Wind shadows of the indignant desert birds.

The darkness drops again but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

RIVER TOWNS TIME TRAVEL, NJ, JULY

Readying Riverton July 2017

READYING — RIVERTON NEW JERSEY, on the Delaware

Today is le quatorze juillet, –the independence birthday of my beloved France.  I was blessed to live in Cannes on this day, 1987.  In the Bay floated ships of that country and ours.  Each morning, between 4th of July and le quatorze (14) juillet, I wakened to American anthems, then French, floating across the Mediterranean.  Those so-familiar notes drifted in, over my herb-fragrant balcony, then through the (of course) French doors.

For Fourth of July, 2017, no anthems enhanced Fourth of July in this horrifically compromised time.  In fact, I find our situation worse than under George III himself.  Nor do I hear French martial music this morning.

But I think about independence, the enormous sacrifices of all that everyone held dear, required to achieve true freedom in both countries.  I am particularly preoccupied after a recent Morven visit, by the fate of Princeton’s own Richard Stockton.  That stately mansion occupied and partially burned by the British.  He who had been chased, captured, tortured, never to recover from his  personal sacrifices to free this land from tyranny.

The more we prate of ‘liberty’ now, –to the ridiculous extent of naming an airport after this blessing/necessity–, the less we possess.

But, in bucolic riverside Riverton, New Jersey, patriotism is alive and well in nearly every dooryard.

Glory of Riverton July 2017

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I do not possess ‘patriotism’, as it has been vengefully re-defined since 9/11.  But time travel can restore its essence.  I seek opportunities to re-love my country  in towns along the Delaware River.  I am particularly so blessed from Lumberton and on up to Frenchtown (!) down through Roebling, Del Ran, Burlington, Riverside and Riverton on our splendid River Line train.

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Riverton Time July 2017

Return with me, NJWILDBEAUTY readers, to idyllic Riverton in our New Jersey, as that precious town prepared for our independence birthday this year.

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River Line Train Tile of Delaware for Riverton

RIVER LINE TRAIN TILE IMAGE FOR RIVERTON, NJ    (River Life & Shad)

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4th of July Committee Riverton July 2017

 

Water for Dogs Riverton July 2017

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Bell for the children to ring Riverton 2017

BELL (LIBERTY?) FOR THE CHILDREN TO RING

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Glow of Yesterday Riverton July 2017

YESTERYEAR GLOWS

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Belle of Riverton July 2017

VICTORIAN BELLE

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Even Churches Interesting - Riverton 2017

EVEN THE CHURCHES ARE STILL BEAUTIFUL

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Majestic Dormers, Riverton July 2017

MAJESTIC DORMERS

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Your Carriage, Madame... Riverton 2017

“YOUR CARRIAGE, MADAME…”

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RIVERTON WELCOME

Riverton Welcome July 2017

Yesterday Beneath our Feet Riverton 2017

YESTERDAY BENEATH OUR VERY FEET

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Riverton Delaware River Scene at Yacht Club

RIVERTON YACHT CLUB, RIVERSIDE STROLL

 

OLD-FASHIONED ICE CREAM PARLOR, in Burlington NJ, near Delaware River

UMMM Ice Cream Burlington July 2017

NJWILDBEAUTY readers know I recently savored river towns, thanks to our brilliant light rail system from Bordentown (for me) to Camden.  This immaculate, zingy, Swiss-made train is reconnecting and resurrecting towns that died with the age of sail.

Coke of Yesteryear Ice Cream Parlor MMMM Burlington July 2017

Tickets are for a time period, not any particular destination – and mine (because of venerable age!) is 75 cents for two hours.  I guess non-venerables pay $1.50.  Heaven awaits.

CHOICES! Ice Cream Parlor MMMM Burlington

But also, the visceral experience of other eras.  I am convinced that Burlington’s brick sidewalks must have been made with bricks from the Abbott Marshlands, ages ago.  Signs of 1776 and 1656 abound.

Important Men Burlington July 2017

This ice cream parlor is in Burlington, (two blocks east and one south returned us to the train station, to buy and then validate a second set of tickets.)    It feels as though it were founded in the earliest part of the twentieth century, and has barely changed since.  Even I am not that venerable!

Eloquent Bricks Burlington

Back to the Ice Cream Parlor:

Get a Split Ice Cream Parlor Burlington July

 

FLAG Ice Cream Parlor MMMM Burlington July 2017

If Michelin had not invented “worthy of the journey”, I would have to do so for this idyllic sojourn.

On that hot summer’s day, all we needed to cool ourselves in the river towns, was to walk a block or two west to the river, or pop into this ice cream parlor.

O.K., the 21st-century waitress didn’t know how to make an ice cream soda.  But, beautiful and charming, she tore herself away from studying, to follow perfect instructions from my Princeton Photography Club (New York natives) companions.

Hit the rails — Think “River Line”!

 

 

 

 

Riverton, New Jersey, Decorates for the Fourth!

Riverton Yacht Club July 2017

I feel most fortunate to live in New Jersey when I ride our brilliant light rail, The River Line, especially with people who’ve never been on it before.    We board this snazzy Swiss-built conveyance at bucolic Bordentown,   The station offers views of ‘my’ river, along with free, safe parking, and interesting sculptures having to do with our often undervalued state.

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Burlington July 2017 023

TRENTON MAKES / WORLD TAKES    Sculpture @ Bordentown River Line Station

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Within soundless seconds, we are wrapped in marsh landscapes, heading south through storied Roebling; brick-sidewalked Burlington (proud to have a London neighborhood founded in 1656), and on to explore and feast in idyllic Riverton.

Riverton Scenes July 2017 002

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The River Line could solve so many problems in our land, in our world.  Gliding along rails used for freight at night, the glistening two-headed train has become a traveling village.  Conviviality rules the ride, especially surprising New Yorkers, now key members of the Princeton Photography Club, on a day-long time-travel excursion.

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Riverton Scenes July 2017 012

PROUD SIGNATURE IN ANCIENT SIDEWALK

People walk around in Riverton.  They’re lively and open, eager to talk to strangers.  Parents hold children by the hand; and children hold books, coursing toward this town’s charming little library.  A Councilman asks us why we are photographing, tells us how Riverton came to be (summer homes for Philadelphians in 1800’s), and exchanges cards with the real photographers.

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Riverton Bunting

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This amateur is in heaven in Riverton, because ‘her’ river, the Delaware, is so near, so alive, shimmering with history and promise.  The Delaware’s signature, –almost a perfume–, is that zingy breeze that starts to riffle hair, even on a steamy July day.

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Riverton Delaware River Scene at Yacht Club

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Riverton Fourth 2017

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The town is gearing up for its hundred-year-old Fourth of July Parade.  Homes of other era are as spiffy as when they’d been built; each yard individually planted and tended and decorated for our first day of Independence.  One man invited us INTO his home to meet the cats.

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Riverton Scenes July 2017 009

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Another neighbor explained that the arresting black and blue and white flag on one balcony honors policemen, EMT people, First Responders.

First Responder Flag Riverton Fourth of July 2017

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The colors of our day, however, were red, white and blue.  No town is more celebratory about the efforts of those founding fathers, –so near, across our pivotal river–, without whose vision and heroism, we would not have a country.

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River Wind in Riverton Flag July 2017

 

 

 

FOURTH OF JULY FLAG COLLECTION

TAOS, NEW MEXICO, HOLLYHOCK AND FLAG

Taos Hollyhock and Flag 2016

Once upon a time, our flag had but thirteen stars.  Few as they were, those bright lights represented staunch courage and a fierce sense of Independence,  Until recently, we exuberantly celebrate every Fourth of July since that sacred Declaration was read on the balcony of Boston’s Faneuil Hall.  And some of us marvel over that singular Fourth of July when Thomas Jefferson and John Adams died within hours of one another…

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1 24-Star Flag

24-STAR FLAG

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At the time of the tragedy of September 11 and the World Trade Center, our flag was somehow shrunken to fit on the hoods of cars beyond counting.  It was also co-opted as a symbol of vengeance.

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Cape May Half-Mast Christmas 2015

CAPE MAY HALF-MAST AT CHRISTMASTIME

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Around this same time, people stopped using the phrase “Fourth of July”, mandated to substitute ridiculous meaningless phrases, such as “Freedom Fest” and even “Freedom Fries.”  So did we learn that the more politicians prate of freedom and liberty  (“Newark Liberty” – I ASK you!),   the less we have.

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Chatham Light Storm-blown Flag jpg

CHATHAM (MASSACHUSETTS) LIGHT AND STORM-WHIPPED FLAG

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Wherever I travel in our country every year, I “collect” images of the American flag I revere and fiercely love.

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13 Star Flag Chestnut Neck Revolutionary War Monument Winter 2017

13-STAR FLAG, BATTLEGROUND OF CHESTNUT NECK, PINE BARRENS,

NEW JERSEY

 

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My flag collection is saved into a Fourth of July file.  Each year, they are sifted through like rubies, diamonds, sapphires, — a priceless tumble of red, white and blue–, into a vintage jewelry box.

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Bayhead Flag in April April wind 2016

BAY HEAD, NEW JERSEY, FLAG — WIND-WHIPPED IN APRIL

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Wander with me through flags that mean what our Founding Fathers meant when they pledged (and some lost) their lives, their fortunes, though not their sacred honor to bring forth this miraculous country.

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GHOST RANCH, ABIQUIU, NEW MEXICO – FLAGS AND EVENING FOG

 

Ghost Ranch Flags and Clouds July 2016

 

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PATRIOTS’ FLAG, BATTLEGROUND OF CHESTNUT NECK

PINE BARRENS, NEW JERSEY

Patriots' Flag Chestnut Neck Revolutionary War Monument Winter 2017

“Haut les coeurs!” — High the Hearts!, from the French… The Role of Beauty in These Times

When I lived in Cannes, my neighbors of the villa taught me a slogan they were utilizing to get them through their dire campaign involving Le Pen – for which they had to vote three times in the departement of their births, which meant leaving the haven of Provence.

“Haut les coeurs!”, [sounds like “o, liqueurs!”] conveys the sustaining command to hold high our hearts, no matter what.  The French are masters of this art, as their revolutionary scene of Marianne in the midst of the battle, hearteningly conveys.

 

https://i1.wp.com/resources3.news.com.au/images/2013/10/25/1226746/604343-liberty-leading-the-people-marianne.jpg

 

NJWILDBEAUTY readers know that my own heart has been leaden, so that I have not been able summon the Muse to craft new blogs.  A certain level of joie de vivre is essential to these ‘pages’, a joie seriously lacking.  My heart does not even  feel red any longer — rather, the grey/yellow-green of this morning’s discouraging sky.

 

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“Willow, Weep For Me”, Spring Lake, Abbott Marshlands, January 20, 2017

 

A British friend writes us, warning that we not “fall into the Slough of Despond.”  A kind of “Pilgrim’s Progress” is our plan this day, although it’s too late about the falling.  My friend’s warning is timely and urgent – that we not descend further; above all that we do not wallow.  Attention to the beautiful and the wild, she urges, has never been more important.  I’m considering this, considering…

 

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Beckoning Tree, Spring Lake, Abbott Marshlands, January 20, 2017

 

France’s Marianne, with her brave, billowing Tricoleur [flag] sustains me in these times.  Although we choose somewhat different garb, her spirit is required now.  We of this young country would call it “The Spirit of ’76”.

All my life, I’ve carried the spirit of our true Patriots, our Founding Fathers and Mothers.

But now — this recent scene in Trenton’s Abbott Marshlands is the world I deplore and dread — sheer desecration of our wild and sacred spaces:  We can expect far more than this — the visible and the invisible — as with pipelines beyond counting.

 

how-the-world-will-look-in-this-regime-abbott-marshlands

Present, at the Marsh.   Future, as we move on from this day.  Note small sign honoring habitat and the creatures whom we stand to lose…

And, to forge my way out of the Slough of Despond, I begin balancing images from this Abbott Marshlands pilgrimage upon “Inauguration” Day.  You’ll see that even in an overcast time, even when muddy trails greet hikers, beauty prevails.

But birding is why we are here.  Susan Burns, –indispensable Willing Hands (volunteer) at D&R Greenway events–, does so to save habitat, for birds in particular.  Here, she’s memorizing subtle gadwalls; dapper northern pintails, merry black and white coots; interspersed with jazzy orange, forest green and new-snow-white shovelers, — the rare ducks of winter — on waterways of the Marsh. 

 

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Susan Burns Intent Upon Rare Winter Ducks at Abbott Marshlands

 

Regarding the next image, Susan and (other birding friends and) I never know whose side we’re on.   “Nature raw in tooth and claw” is why we SAVE wildlands!  That balancing act, where everything cycles into use and blessing for everything else.  She and I conclude that this raptor must have been a great horned owl…  These clusters punctuate our waterside trail, followed by lacings of “whitewash” — excretions — typical of owls.  Of course, we’ll never know.  But without this preserved wild natural habitat, neither owls nor prey could survive.

 

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The Way of the Wild, Abbott Marshlands

 

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Beavers’ Breakfast, Abbott Marshlands

 

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Beaver Point, on the Yellow Trail, Abbott Marshlands

 

In the Marsh, Nature’ processes, –almost invisible, way beyond time–, are at work on every side.  Here we marvel at the splendid tapestry of fungus performing its slow transformative service upon the majestic felled beech.  Susan and I insist, — yes, aloud, yes, to the tree — “You are beautiful, imposing, arresting, even in death!”

 

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Beech Fungus, felled beech, Abbott Marshlands

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Beech Fungus at Work near Beaver Point

 

Preservationists “pay any price, bear any burden” [JFK Inauguration] to save land and water to foster slow and sacred processes in force since before time itself.

Historians now grant Dr. Charles Conrad Abbott every honor for realizing and daring to state that artifacts he discovered in this Marsh give evidence of Lenape presence and use for 10,000 years and more! 

But Nature’s actions and interactions have been dynamically present here far far far far longer.  Who are WE to intrude, let alone arrest or destroy>

 

evocative-weeds-abbott-marshlands

Weeds Evoke my Mood, Spring Lake, Abbott Marshlands

 

even-the-weeds-hold-beauty-abbott-marshlands

Weeds Surpass my Mood, Spring Lake, Abbott Marshlands

 

natures-mourning-abbott-marshlands

Nature’s Mourning

 

We are told that the Lenapes named this Spring Lake in their own far more beautiful language, because it was born of a spring.  We are also told that the beavers were the engineers…

In its center, though invisible to my camera, are coots, gadwalls, pintails, shovelers and a plethora of gulls.  Over our heads here and at another watery site deep into our journey, we were circled and circled by an enormous mute swan.  It may be mating season — he sure acts like it.  We decided that this swan, circling us at least six times, was a teen-ager in a white convertible, cruising as did my best friends and I along Detroit’s Woodward Avenue in our teens.  That swan was simply displaying how spectacular he is, how absolutely irresistible.

It is so still in the Marsh, that we were overwhelmed by the irreplaceable whisper/roar [a kind of ‘whuff whuff whuff’] of air in the mute swan’s wings.

 

all-will-be-well-spring-lake-abbott-marshlands

“All will be well. All manner of things will be well.” Julian of Norwich — Spring Lake, Abbott Marshlands