Wild Harrisburg

Harrisburg, December

From Wikipedia:

Harrisburg’s site along the Susquehanna River is thought to have been inhabited by Native Americans as early as 3000 BC. Known to the Native Americans as “Peixtin”, or “Paxtang“, the area was an important resting place and crossroads for Native American traders, as the trails leading from the Delaware to the Ohio rivers, and from the Potomac to the Upper Susquehanna intersected there. The first European contact with Native Americans in Pennsylvania was made by the Englishman, Captain John Smith, who journeyed from Virginia up the Susquehanna River in 1608 and visited with the Susquehanna tribe. In 1719, John Harris, Sr., an English trader, settled here and 14 years later secured grants of 800 acres (3.2 km²) in this vicinity. In 1785, John Harris, Jr. made plans to lay out a town on his father’s land, which he named Harrisburg. In the spring of 1785, the town was formally surveyed by William Maclay, who was a son-in-law of John Harris, Sr. In 1791, Harrisburg became incorporated, and in October 1812 it was named the Pennsylvania state capital, which it has remained ever since. The assembling here of the highly sectional Harrisburg Convention in 1827 (signaling what may have been the birth of lobbying on a national scale) led to the passage of the high protective-tariff bill of 1828.^[12] In 1839, Harrison and Tyler were nominated for President of the United States at the first national convention of the Whig Party of the United States, which was held in Harrisburg.

Eating Apples in a Blanket Fort

The Force That Through the Green Fuse Drives the Flower

I used to be very passionate about the outdoors–getting out into the woods, lakes, parks, and so on.  Those of you who have followed my blog for years will remember many posts showcasing trips I made to various wilderness spots, posts full of photos and appreciation for the solitude (or camaraderie with fellow enthusiasts) that the outdoors brought me.  Not that I have ever been a serious outdoorsman–I’ve never really camped, per se, or hiked more than 6 or 7 miles at a time, and I don’t own one of those serious hiking backpacks or anything, but I did used to have a novice hiking backpack, with essentials like ponchos, matches, compass, a whistle to let bears know people were entering the woods, etc.  Anyway, sometime on my journey from 2010-2015 (when I moved from central PA to Erie to New Jersey to Philadelphia) I kind of forgot this particular passion of mine.  It was healthy and alive for much of Erie–there are plenty of pictures on this very blog to prove it–but by the time I landed back here in Harrisburg I’d fashioned myself into a “city man” and, although I was once again in close proximity to the trails and parks I fell in love with, hadn’t actually visited any of them in the year-plus since returning.

Today I went back, for reasons I don’t know.  I went to King’s Gap, to an old standby, the Rattlesnake Trail (which has been renamed the Scenic Vista trail!).  I was not prepared for how much I had truly missed the experience of being in the woods, especially alone, in the middle of the day.

It’s a shame I have come back to this passion in late summer, but I have no plans of forgetting again.  The refreshing it does for me, the reflection it enables–it is literally like refilling my tank with fuel.  Not to mention, all the spots around here that I frequent come with their own memories of the many times I’d been there before–the people I’d been there with, the eras of my life, my autobiography spelled out in the leaves.

Just like the old days, I have included some pictures here (blog exclusives! will not appear on Facebook!).  Like with any entry on Notes From the Fire, this is best viewed on a desktop or laptop computer–enlarging photos to their optimum size dramatically increases their power.  :)  Thanks for reading!

Sun Up

Summer’s Elbow

Penn’s Landing, Philadelphia, 11/20/14

 

 

 

Juggler, Fairmount Park

Philly Journal, 7/24/14

It is not unusual for me to throw whatever current book or magazine or newspaper I am reading into a backpack and bike to one of the city’s parks or otherwise unique public spaces to do some outdoor reading.  I was just about to do that this evening, when I realized that I always go pretty far away to do this–usually the mile and a half or two miles toward Center City to hang out in one of the more illustrious or famous public spaces.  There are tons of parks near me, but these are actual parks, used by the residents who are regular folks!  I suppose I’ve stayed away from them not only because they are less interesting, but because I have typically felt like an outsider at them.  But this evening I took my book straight to Mifflin Square Park, by far the closest park to my house, at only 5 blocks away.  Mifflin Square Park is unique in that it is bordered on two of its four sides by the largest population of Cambodian residents in the state of Pennsylvania.  Not everyone who uses this park is Cambodian, but I would say 80% of the folks there are in fact Cambodian. Like, first-generation, speaking-Cambodian folks.  It wasn’t my first time there, but it was my first time spending any significant amount of time there.  It was nice!  Very pleasant folks (except the group of white teenagers sitting a bench next to me who were smoking weed).  I took some pictures that you might find pretty interesting:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Kingdom of Rust

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fizzy Waterfalls & the Haircut Bigots

Have you ever filled a big cup up about halfway with a carbonated beverage, and when you go to take a drink of it, you can’t really breathe?  What’s the scientific process going on here?  Is the inside of the cup all filled with carbon dioxide?

Since I buy a lot of music on vinyl that I already own in another format, I keep ending up with a lot of “download cards”–these little guys that come in the vinyl records that also let you download a free version of the album–basically a way to try to convince you to spend money on music in any form at all.  Anyway, for awhile I tried to match up these cards with friends I thought might enjoy the specific music the most, but it’s gotten difficult.  If you legitimately think you might enjoy discovering new music that is the kind of music I like, let me know, the first person to say so just automatically gets all my download cards from here on out.

It seems about every six months, some bigot from the middle of nowhere says something atrocious, gets fired from his high profile job, and all the other bigots start freaking out about the First Amendment.  Now, I know I’m not the first to point this out, so I’ll be brief:  the First Amendment protects your speech (and not even all of it!) from the government.  Not from companies.  And the thing is, the people who want the jobs of these rich hate-mongers saved are the same exact people who are always the first to try to get a waitress fired for next to no reason.  Yeah, let’s keep the job of the rich bigot who definitely doesn’t care about you—because the Constitution!—but let’s fire our actual brethren who are down in the trenches with us because your steak was burnt.  I can only imagine what you’d want if that waitress said something you didn’t like!

I’m currently obsessed with the Kay Ryan poem, “The Niagara River”.  Watch the video below to see me tell you why:

The Niagara River

As though
the river were
a floor, we position
our table and chairs
upon it, eat, and
have conversation.
As it moves along,
we notice–as
calmly as though
dining room paintings
were being replaced–
the changing scenes
along the shore.  We
do know, we do
know this is the
Niagara River, but
it is hard to remember
what that means.

 

It’s kind of difficult to rate your senses, isn’t it?  I was just sitting here thinking, gee, smell has to be the best sense!  But then I thought, oh there is no way smell can compete with touch!  But then I remembered sight.  And on and on.  Senses rule!

I’m getting tired of cutting my hair.  Does this really just have to keep happening?  I mean it’s every couple weeks, for, like, life.  I mean, I get it, body.  You’re good at growing hair on my head and, increasingly, everywhere else.  We’re all very impressed.  But consider your point proven.

My new deodorant smells like soap.

Look at this picture I took:

 

 

Do Not Enter

Sports!

Selfie of the Year

Philly Journal, 1/9/14

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Philly Journal, 12/31/13

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Philly Journal, 11/18/13

Pictures of Strangers on the Plaza Area of Philadelphia’s Historic Waterworks

 

 

 

 

 

 

Self-Portraits in Cities

To see these pictures in the full, grandiose artistic glory with which I intend, click on them to see a full-screen version. From the full-screen version, you’ll have to use your browser’s back option to return to the blog.

Trenton, NJ

 

Wilmington, DE

 

Atlantic City, NJ

 

Harrisburg, PA

 

Philadelphia, PA

 

Erie, PA

Pittsburgh, PA

 

Cleveland, OH

 

Buffalo, NY

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Even

Underneath Philadelphia

 

 

Longwood Gardens, 4/19

 

 

 

Self-Portraits in Cities

It’s been awhile since there was a new entry, but I’m especially fond of this one!  And remember, click a photo, then when it re-load, click it again for a full-screen version…I vainly recommend this because I think a few of these pictures are some of my best!

Wilmington, Delaware

 

 

Philadelphia, PA

 

 

Atlantic City, NJ

 

Pittsburgh, PA

 

Erie, PA

 

Cleveland, OH

 

 

Buffalo, NY

The Woods Behind My Mother’s House

 

 

Woodbury, New Jersey

 

 

Past and Present