Winter in Rochester

Remember the beginning of Rudolph when Burl Ives (the snowman) talks
about the storm that almost canceled Christmas? There were scenes of
cars covered in snow, people pushing cars out of snow piles, newspapers
proclaiming "We're Fr0zen" and "Ice Peril Warning". That's what it felt like
in Rochester last week. Winter's are "special" there. Upstate New York
and Minnesota are the only two places I've been where winter is sooo harsh.






















The temperature hovered in the single digits and went below zero when the
sun set. The snow screamed out in a dry high pitched scrunch under each
step you took. Fresh snow stuck to cars like road rash on skateboarders. It
moved away from your feet and fell from car tires in small cakes and slices.
There was no squashing or melting, it was too cold.

Foyer doors at building entries were glazed with a kaleidoscope of ice.
Icicles hung like hungry daggers from the overhangs of buildings and from
the under-carriage and bumpers of cars.



























People hunkered against the cold with faces squished and necks pulled
into their bodies. Most didn't even have hats, gloves or the appropriate
winter jackets as they huddled under car hoods emptying their back-up
bottles of wiper fluid into their wells. Car exhaust and breath sent plumes
skyward.

I remember those winters well. I remember strapping on ice skates and
skating on Hilltop Rd., right on the street. It was solid ice! I remember
reaching out of our second floor windows to pull 2' and 3' icicles off the
overhangs. We'd suck on them like popsicle's. When the snow froze
over and got a decent crust we could walk on the surface. We'd be
2 to 3 feet off the ground! And if you broke though you'd sink down to your
knee losing your boot when you tried to pull your leg out. It stayed below
reezing so long we built bobsled runs for our sleds and iced them down
with the hose.

As the world tramped over the purity of the heavens the snow eventually
took on the dirty patina of life. Cars added a layer of dirt and spray looking
like 4x4's that just came out of the desert. Dirty snow built up and caked
on the inside of wheel wells leaving just enough room for the
movement of the wheel.




















Behind the wheel little snow turds built up under the car chassis
eventually get kicked off or falling off to leave brown piles littered around the
landscape like buffalo poop on the prairie.













































...and no one blinks an eye at this severe environment. No-one misses
work or school. Streets are clean, sidewalks are plowed.

In fact if you live here or anywhere in the north lands of America why not
have fun with it? Enjoy. I did.

Abbey Road, London England

Night had descended on London. Molly & I were making our way back from a pub walking tour of Hampstead in the far north of London. We'd just toured one of the great Victorian villages on the planet and had a few pints in some of it's finer establishments. Instead of taking the Tube back to central London we grabbed a cab so we could watch London pass us by like a movie through the windows.

Our gregarious cabbie hears us speaking and asks us with his Irish brogue where we're from. We have a great conversation about America, Boston and the Irish. After a while he says "I've got som-ting you'll love. You want to see it? Free of charge. I just know you're gonna luv it." A brief kidnapping scenario goes through my head but I say OK given we've been having a great conversation already.

A few lefts and rights later pull up to Abbey Road. Yes that Abby Road. There in front of us is that world famous cross walk where the barefoot Paul and his three cohorts were caught mid-stride for the Abbey Road album cover.


























He pulls in through the wrought iron gates. "Can you do that I ask? Won't the guards come out"? "Not if we keep moving" he says. They don't want to upset anyone too quickly. They dunno who's in this cab. Could be John or Sir Paul ya know".





















No-one appears in the one lit window as we slowly roll though the front drive & car park peering at the legendary recording studio. I was thrilled. This was hallowed ground tred on by perhaps the greatest music masters of the 20th Century. I've looked at that Abbey Road album cover for all my life and to actually be in that scene felt like we'd stepped though the looking glass into a fantasy. There are legendary locations all over London. You can't hardly believe you're immersed in a landscape you've read about since childhood but this surprise was a great moment and a nice gift from our Irish cabbie.

True to his word he did not charge us for the detour....but I tipped him BIG.

















London's Black Cab drivers are all eager tour guides, ready and willing to talk and proffer the history of their famed city. I've had guys take me on little tours all over London just by starting to ask questions. If you find yourself in London. Do it.

For all UK posts click here

Bay View Coffee - San Francisco, Ca,

Pics from
whatimseeing.com/2007/12/07/hocus-pocus/

























The ferry stern recedes from view, disappearing into the fog,
spewing it's wake towards me.

Birds huddle against the cold just outside the window their
heads pulled back inside their feathers.

I'm at Peets Coffee in the Ferry Building in San Francisco.

I took my morning walk and spotted the Ferry Building.
I bee-lined towards it thinking coffee and a bay view would
be nice this morning. As I strode through the front plaza
under the clock tower it's carillon bells exalt my entry.

The sun climbs above the billowing fog to rake sunlight and
shadows across the boardwalk in front of me. The ferry
terminal's stainless steel docks gleam and glimmer in the
sunlight off-setting the pink fringed fog hugging the
bay behind it.

Business people and hipsters with their ubiquitious earbuds
parade pass as another ferry unloads it's charges.

Behind me on polished concrete floors are four foot square
common tables filled with newspaper readers, laptop surfers
and coffee klatchers. They get up intermittently in one's and
two's to make their way to their day's obligations.

Thick blooded natives take seats outside with spring
jackets on.

A flock of birds ducking the fog skips across the water
inches above it.

The ever changing scene morphs to gray again as another ferry
blows it's horn and backs out for the return trip to Marin.
Fog rolls up over the boat, chills the birds, covers the
boardwalk and blankets the ferry building. Mother Nature
closed the curtain on the sun, show's over. I pull my scarf
close, cap my coffee and begin the walk back up Market Street
to begin my work day.

Winter Wonderland. Marblehead, Massachusetts

I've had the privilege of being able to see a lot of the world and Marblehead, Massachusetts stands as one of the most beautiful places I've been. I live here everyday and the beauty of the place never diminishes. I walk it's streets as often as possible. I walk for exercise but I always bring a camera and coffee shop change. Even the grays and whites of winter can't put a dull veneer on our old town. It just redecorates it for the new season and adds it's own distinguishing features.


















As the first snow of the season fell I had to be out in it. Being a born & bred Western New Yorker I love a good snow storm, I love the white out immersion and the snow blowing in my face. I feel alive, I feel 10 years old again, bundled up in leggings, my winter coat and a stocking hat. My mittens and scarf covered with dingle berries of frozen snow. Inside my buckle-up boots my feet are warm and dry protected by the Wonderbread bags wrapped so snugly around my feet as I seek the protection of the igloo bushes pretending to be an Eskimo in the Arctic. ...I digress.

Reveling in my arctic past I make my way into old town. Snow makes it's angled way onto our faces. I stick my tongue out to catch a few flakes.















Marblehead was founded in 1629 and it's "Old Town" may be the greatest living collection of 17th and 18th century buildings in America. The streets are crooked and narrow and have a distinctly European feel. The town is not a museum. It's a living breathing community full of activity and pride of place and onto this antique visage falls a sparkling highlight of crystalline white adding a measure of magic to the accepting Christmas decorations.
















My favorite coffee and breakfast shops offer cover from the storm, their windows fogging from the collective sighs of warm customers and their cups-of-joe.

















Window displays reflect the holiday spirit.
















Lobster shanties sit quiet.
















But Gatchells' Playground and Redd's Pond come alive with sledders, skaters and hockey games.













Once again Marblehead enlivens my soul and inspires me.


















Snow angel time!

Acres of Wildlife. Maine

I remember sitting under the canopy of trees in the northern forest, darkness swallowing us. We have a campfire blazing, sending light to highlight the underside of the trees and our faces. Shadowy figures pass by on the road outside the camp. In the distance we hear the muffled sound of conversations and laughter, of car doors slamming, of the high pitched banging of hammer on stake. Mesmerized by the dancing light and crackling of the fire I'm pulled out of my bliss by the sizzle of water on fire. Rain is beginning to fall. We'd spent the day in the sun, boating, fishing & swimming in the moss green waters of the camp lake. Warm and full of tan bodies we swam to the rafts, all sitting on one side trying to tip them over and over. Laughter and water filled our mouths and hearts.

As the rain sent steam to mix with the smoke we folded our chairs and decided to head for the restaurant & pub. Yes, a campground with a restaurant & pub. Thank you God. In the darkness we made our way, flashlights illuminating the mini explosions of water meeting ground.

Inside the pub we smell burgers, pizza & beer. We order thick crusted chewy pizza and cold, cold beer. Pitchers of beer. We move through the crowds of families to sit outside. Under a covered deck at picnic tables we mingle with about 60 other folks. Warm & dry we enjoy the rainfall and the patter on the roof of the deck. Fabulous Phil starts to entertain the crowd. Phil plays an acoustic guitar and familiar songs that we all sing along to. Neil Diamond's "Sweet Caroline" is the standout with all of us singing along full voiced in the moist summer heat.

We order another round of drinks, this time mixed. My brother takes a pull and balks at the strength of the drink. He goes back to the bar and tells the bartender that the drink is too strong. The barkeep looks steely eyed at Dan and says "This is Maine, drink it!". What can you say to that? We drink up. Must have been sleeping potion, within an hour we're out for the night. Happy camping. :)

Acres of Wildlife.

Fond memories.

Christma Revels. Cambridge, Ma.

Saturday night we went to Harvard's Sanders Theater for the Christmas Revels. It was a bitterly cold and brutally beautiful night. A foot of snow had fallen Friday and the white mantle of winter laid it's winter coat across Harvard's quiet quads. The students were home for the holidays leaving the solitude and quiet of Harvard Yard to us alone. The towering silhouetted trees, each with one side coated in white, stood sentinel like over the Georgian buildings as our feet crunched the cleared but frozen white pathways to Sander's Theater.

















Harvard Yard by dave o. on Flikr


Inspired by Christopher Wren's Sheldonian Theatre at Oxford, England, Sanders Theater is famous for its design and its acoustics. The theater is part of Memorial Hall which was built following the Civil War by alumni who petitioned the college to let them raise funds for a memorial to those Harvard graduates who fought for the Union cause. Many venerable academic, political and literary figures of the nineteenth and twentieth century have taken the podium at Sanders Theatre including Winston Churchill, Theodore Roosevelt, Martin Luther King, and Mikhail Gorbachev.



The Christmas Revels are a celebration of Christmas and the Winter Solstice, the shortest day of the year. Every year the Revels choose a cultural location from around the globe that celebrates Christmas and re-enacts their songs, dances & rituals. This year it was back to the Revels' English roots and we were to find ourselves merrymaking in early 19th Century Wessex England. It is told that the vigorous country musicians of the time had little respect for the boundaries between tavern and church so long as they made a joyful noise, and that they did.


















Mellstock Band dance by Roger Ide


Participants were costumed in the appropriate attire and the wassailing began as the light hit the stage illuminating the town's church choir as they were partaking of wassail, (not to be confused with wassailing) holding their tankards and pouring some 19th Century anti-freeze down their throats. There were men's, women's and children's choirs that came together and mixed at will. The singing was boisterous and full throated and ocasionally accompanied by The Mellstock Band to recreate a village "quire" -- singers accompanied by string and wind instruments.

More photos here.
http://www.revels.org/the-christmas-revels/christmas-revels-photos/


The whole of Sanders Theater is done in a High Victorian Gothic style and the interior is gorgeous. The walls & ceiling were gleaming polished wood that had been milled and carved into a fanciful and majestic Victorian symphony. I felt as a whole as if I was transported and sitting in an English theater in the early 1800's.




The intermission was prompted by the Lord of the Dance. White clad MorrisMen dancers, with bells on their shins, started on stage literally ringing holiday cheer with each step they made. They made their way into the audience, took our hands and led us dancing into the vaulted lobby. we joyfully made our way across the entire lobby hand in hand and snaked back on each other over and over until the entire theater was in the lobby packed together cheek to jowl all singing The Lord of The Dance, smiling and nodding knowingly at each other. You can see the dance at the end of the video below.






Before we made our frozen cheek-burning way back to the car we peered through port-hole windows into Annenberg Hall which makes up the long nave-like west side of Memorial Hall. Check this out. How Harry Potter-ish is this. Wow, what a space.



















With the first snow of the season falling heavily and the temperatures quickly falling into the teens it's fun to revel in the season and take part in the timeless traditions that we are a part of and continue to add too. So participate in your holiday Wassailing and when the holidays are over a nice Wassail with friends & family can get us warmly through winter, including that dreariest of months, February, :) ... and into spring.

Christmas In The City. Rochester, NY to Boston, Ma.

Christmas has snuck up in the middle of my Westward Ho travel posts and when the muse hits, you gotta write.....

When I was a kid I remember going to Midtown Mall in Rochester, NY at Christmas time. It was magical. I was the same height as the display windows and I distinctly remember being bundled up and looking up into the displays out on the sidewalk before entering the mall. I'll never forget the sight of it. It was awe inspiring, the lights, the animatronics, the miniature village scenes, the fake ice canals and sparkling snow. The visuals of Christmas layered on the bustle of the city was new and exciting for a suburban boy like me. I think I fell in love with cities that day too. I wished Rochester could be Christmas bright and bustling all the time. It wasn't, but I found cities like New York and Boston were.



Years later I moved to the jewel that is Boston. Physically being in the streets always inspires me, surrounded by the moving masses, beautiful buildings, lights, signs, cafe's and the criss-crossing movement of traffic, subways, streetcars and buses. In the winter I love the steam rising from the underground, food vendor stalls and people's breaths. Christmas time takes the city stew and heightens all the effects.



Quincy Market
by Mazda6 (Tor) Flikr



I'm in Boston as I'm writing this. Walking through the Prudential Center Shops snapped my memory back to that moment at Midtown Mall. Surrounding me, Christmas lights reflect off the floor and walls, a giant Christmas Ball hangs glowing from the ceiling and display cases are full of the red and green of the season. Perfect 24 foot cone shaped Xmas trees wrapped in white lights and ribbon stand guard along the walkways and golden 10 foot starbursts hang from the night black atrium ceilings.




Christmas Ball. Prudential Center
Shops by Inecita, Flikr.


Boston is a beautiful city any time of the year and Christmas is no exception. With the days short the city lights and sky begin to twinkle early in December.



















Boston's North End by spin979 Flikr


Couples walk a little closer together. Scarves are wrapped fashionably around necks with matching hats and gloves.

Brownstones are dressed with holiday wreaths and serenaded by salvation army Santa's.


























Boston dressed for Christmas by cupidboi79, Flikr


The fogged windows of restaurants and bars look inviting with silhouetted shapes of friends and lovers inside .

















Green Dragon Tavern
by angelocesare, Flikr

Jacob Wirth's
by tpl108, Flikr












I settle into the M Bar to the muted sounds of bells and carols outside. Watching the passers by brings a little melody to mind.....

City sidewalks busy sidewalks . Dressed in holiday style In the air There's a feeling of Christmas Children laughing People passing Meeting smile after smile And on ev'ry street corner you'll hear

Silver bells silver bells It's Christmas time in the city Ring a ling hear them sing Soon it will be Christmas day













Boston backlane
by Tucumcary, Flikr

Commonwealth Ave Mall
by halmorgan, Flikr.






















And to all, a Good Night.