The Glen Rock Carolers continued a Christmas Day tradition that began in 1848, when mill owners began singing Christmas carols to the town. Sunday morning, the singers sang to a bigger crowd, but they still wore top hats, capes and carried canes, reflecting some of the town's Yorkshire, England, history.
The group opens at 11 p.m. Christmas Eve with an inside concert, but at midnight-- not five or 10 minutes past midnight, but AT midnight-- they adjourn to the town square, where hundreds of fans join them. Some of the crowds sings, some hum, some just tag along and listen to the music, some younger folks just tag along and do what younger folks have always done-- be loud and hang out with their friends.
Some of the carolers have been singing for 70 years, and while that's a feat in itself, wandering up and down the town's hills -- there's a reason it's called GLEN Rock-- would easily sap the wind from a teenager's lungs. But the carolers, about 50 of them, walk, sing, make jokes, eat, laugh and generally have a good time until the sun is starting to come up over the eastern hills.
The crowd is huge and elbow-to-elbow at midnight but thins out after the first two hours to almost nothing, and it's sometimes just the carolers singing to empty streets-- and some adoring neighbors who actually set their alarm and get out of bed to have these gentlemen (no ladies) serenade them with old English Christmas carols. Then, at about 5 a.m., after most of the hills have been walked, a smaller crowd forms to meet the carolers at the bottom of the hill and stays with them until the doxology at the community Christmas tree.
Staying with the carolers the entire night isn't something you might intend to do when the night begins. But these gentleman laugh and joke with the fans, and it's easy becoming part of the fun.
Longwood Gardens keeps its Christmas display open until January 8, so find your tickets online and make the 75 minute trip from York to see some exquisite displays. Inside, there is 4.5 acres of displays and plants in the conservatory. Outside, there is fountain displays and music and thousands of lights.
Visited Rocky Ridge County Park's Christmas Magic recently, trying to find something different to photograph at a place that's been photographed for 28 years. Colorful and different, but remembering that different isn't necessarily good, I'm not sure I'm satisfied with either. Nope, neither one.
But that's just the picture, Christmas Magic is a lot of fun. It's open until December 31, closed Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. See it if you can.
Heard a knock on the door Monday night, and it was about 50 Smith Middle School students singing Christmas carols. It made me smile, seeing them smile and doing a terrific job on "Deck the Halls". Thanks!
Despite a thin covering of snow this morning, barely covering these holly berries, there still hasn't been enough cold weather to make much snow for Pennsylvania ski areas. Roundtop and Liberty are both expecting to make big snow tonight, but neither have announced openings yet. In Pennsylvania, according to Ski The East, only Camelback is open-- with 98 percent of its trails challenging skiers.
Further north, nearly everything is open, and Killington in Vermont has been raving about its snow for a month. In New York, skiers at Whiteface will face temperatures of about eight degrees. And in Canada, well, it's Canada. It's cold, snowy and beautiful. At Mont Sainte Anne near Quebec City, at right, skiers won't see 32F the entire week as they glide over a nearly four foot base.
A yellow bellied sapsucker isn't particularly uncommon in York County, but less common than the usual downy woodpeckers. It probably shows a lack of excitement in my life, but I was thrilled to see a lot of red on this woodpecker out of the corner of my eye while photographing other birds at Pinchot State Park. In this season of gray, this little guy stood out like a neon sign.
Chuck and Sharon McFadden of Loganville spent a month putting together a Christmas display, just as they have for the last 30 years.
The home's outside is impressive, with 16 balloons, figures, buildings. And enough lights to make the electric meter spin like a tire on a race car. Most of the lights are in the backyard, since the display can be seen by drivers along Interstate 83.
Sharon admits the backyard is 'gaudy', but the front yard is beautiful, tasteful. It's about the only house in the upscale, new-home neighborhood with any lights at all. Thousands of drivers see the backyard, only a handful see the front.
Their grandchildren are soaking up the holiday spirit, Sharon baking and cooking, Chuck already planning for more railroad displays.
It was satisfying to see the McFaddens smiling as I walked through their door. They seem to thrive on the holidays. Good for them.
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My house in York has almost no decorations on it because I remember that eons ago, when I was a kid, decorating for Christmas holidays wasn't a particularly happy time. Mom and Dad, who loved each other deeply all other times of the year-- almost to the point of embarrassment-- seemed to bait each other during the season. The wrong color lights, too many lights, not enough lights. Inside, it was much the same. Decorating the inside tree was just one, long argument. The wrong tinsel, small bulbs, big bulbs...
The pressure never ended-- the holiday gifts, decorations, church obligations and those dreadful, constant Christmas carols... Having four rowdy kids under foot during the vacation probably didn't help. Of course, Christmas Day was exciting for us kids because the entire living room seemed to be stacked with presents, gloriously wrapped in beautiful colored paper and ribbons. Nellie, our dachshund, was already nosing through the gifts, looking for her gifts as we bounced down the steps.
Dad's home movie of Christmas morning in 1957 shows the piles of gifts and wrapping, and it reminds us how much our Mom and Dad wanted us to be happy. We didn't understand the serious financial worry it certainly must have put on Dad, who was already working two jobs.
Still today, I can't fathom how they raised four kids with the little money they had.
Bah, humbug? No, but I prefer enjoy our friends and family. Let's refuse to jump into a pressure cooker of our own making.
"Santacon is a non-denominational, non-commercial, non-political and non-sensical Santa Claus convention that occurs once a year for absolutely no reason." From the website, which is NOT suitable for young children. It was Saturday in New York City that thousands of Mr. and Mrs. Santa Claus and all their imitators, elves, gingerbread men and women, helpers, reindeers and others in somewhat confusing holiday costumes wandered through town, joining the elbow-to-elbow crowd. The Santa and Company crowd with their smiles, ho-ho-ho, and singing made the crowded city even more interesting than the usual exciting NYC Christmas trip. Most were young adults, whose enthusiasm made even the most Grinch-like smile. It was a big pre-Christmas party, and one Santa admitted that his group was going bar hopping-- not shopping.
The website includes new verses for traditional Christmas songs, jokes and photos, some of which is NSFW or young children. It's irreverent, racy, and the video is about six steps beyond what Santa would consider 'naughty'. Still, all the Santas provided some fun entertainment.
Fifty volunteers descended on Salvation Army of York Wednesday to fill 2,000 boxes to be sure York's most needy families have a Christmas dinner. Among the volunteers was Ruth Schrom, a vibrant 94-year old woman with more energy than people half her age. Ruth was one of a group of AARP volunteers and retired teachers who will be at it again Thursday to finish the job. Students from the Christian School of York joined the fun, and their job was to break down the truck load of cardboard boxes. The food that fills these boxes is not donated, but purchased with the loose change you drop into the Salvation Army kettles. The number families asking for the boxes is up, so officials are hoping for more donations this year.
If you're a bird lover, or a photographer with a big lens, now is the time to head to Conowingo Dam in Maryland to photograph the 100 or so bald eagles there. Weather forecast for this weekend is for sunny skies and high temperatures in the 40s.
Was there over the weekend and the viewing platforms looked like a used camera shop. There must have been 40 big lenses, that is, from 300 to 800 mm lenses. Apparently, Conowingo is becoming the place to be to photograph the eagles on this side of the Mississippi River. Even if you don't have the big lenses, there are enough of the birds around that even a 200mm lens can capture an image worth saving, like the mug shot of the pair of eagles sitting in the tree below. The eagles are huge and relatively slow moving, so don't be intimidated. They are easy to photograph-- getting close enough is the key.
Also, there is almost always someone there displaying scrapbooks or photographs who can answer your questions about shooting or equipment.
My 20x spotting scope caught eight eagles in one stationary single view Sunday. Sweeping the east side of the river, I counted 47 eagles at one time. Aside from eagles, there are as many great blue herons and hundreds of vultures (mostly black, not turkey).
To find the largest concentration of eagles in the world, take a trip to Haines, Alaska, where 3-4,000 of the birds congregate in early winter before the rivers freeze over and close off the food supply.
Some fabulous photographers make a chunk of money there, and some teach the rest of us how to become better photographers during the Alaska Bald Eagle Festival, which will be held November 14-18. While seeing 100 eagles at Conowingo is certainly impressive, imagine the masses in Haines. I counted 20 eagles in one tree when I was there a few years ago. There are so many birds that, after a while, one must be careful not to be desensitized to the scene.
To reach the dam (about an hour's drive from downtown York) and the viewing platforms from which to photograph the birds, drive south on state route 74 into Maryland, left on state route 136, and left again to U.S. route 1. Just before reaching the dam, turn right on Shuresville Road, and then left on Shuresville Landing Road, a narrow, winding road that takes visitors down to the river. Once at river level, take another left and drive to the dam.
For information concerning water release, which normally attracts more birds, call this automated number-- 1.888.457.4076
The Visitor Center, located just south of the Dam on Route 1 at 4948 conwingo Road, is open year-round on weekdays from 9:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m., on weekends from 11:00 a.m. to 3:00 p.m. and is closed on Thanksgiving Day, Christmas and New Year's Day. To learn more about Conowingo, please visit www.exeloncorp.com/conowingo.
Friday's downtown York tree lighting went well, with a large crowd hiking to the square to listen to a chorus, the William Penn High Pep Band, watching a dance troupe, but most importantly, to see Santa.
The tree was actually lit earlier than the 6:30 p.m. scheduled time. It was only about 7-10 minutes early, but many Yorkers who have rarely seen anything government-related start on time-- much less early-- missed the lighting. But the most important appointment of the evening was two blocks down the street at Martin Memorial Library, where Santa took a seat and welcomed hundreds of eager kids-- and some very patient parents.
Randy Phillips and his co-workers at York Wallcovering were expecting Thursday to be told that their health insurance was going to be cut. Instead of that depressing news, all the workers were awarded a $200 shopping spree at Macy's in the West Manchester Mall. Things are going well at York Wallcovering.
One of the rules concerning the shopping spree was that all gifts had to be purchased by the employe and for the employe. It was interesting seeing Grandmas and Grandpas buying stuffed toys (helps them sleep at night?) and the men buying perfume.
The topper was all the men in the housewares department who were getting tutorials from the sales staff about what all that kitchen stuff does.
Workers were bussed in, and the store added a party atmosphere with balloons, and a welcome committee.
The workers came straight from their work stations, so if they get dirty at work, those were the clothes in which they rushed the Macy's doors. Phillips works in the surfacing department, and his outfit might be setting a new trend in casual clothes. It's not often you see Phillips' attire in a classy store like Macy's.
Could never understand why someone would wait in line for hours or days for anything, much less a Christmas gift, or the lure of the same. Four hours before the West Manchester Target store opened at midnight, the line had already wound to the back of the store. Shoppers brought lawn chairs, radios and even heaters to the event.
And it's truly an event. A group of sisters and cousins were first in line. "'First in line, or go home' is our motto," said one. They lay siege to different stores every year, and sometimes renew acquaintances with shoppers from the year before. It's more than shopping, it's a battle against other people, the clock and the number of items available -- wide screen TVs were the big ticket. They-- mostly women-- wait for hours and then rush the door at opening, load their carts with merchandise. They are finished in 20 minutes.They insist that if they had waited until -- heaven forbid-- 9 p.m., many of the items on their lists would have already been purchased and unavailable forever. Really?
Target kept the shoppers smiling, keeping late-comers away from the door. They had to put in their share of waiting. The store offered snack bars, coupons for merchandise and had security personnel everywhere-- everywhere. Very impressive.
In the overall scheme of things, the fire at Perrydell Farms in York Township wasn't that big. No cows, cats or people were injured. The barn where the cows lived was untouched.
According to the experts, an electrical problem started the fire in the milking parlor where there is very little burnable material. All the machinery is made of stainless steel for milk processing and storage. The parlor walls were concrete block. Only the roof beams and trusses were wood, and that's what caused most of the damage.
The milking parlor, what Michael Saylor called the 'heart of the farm' is dead-- for now. It'll be rebuilt in coming days or weeks. But in the meantime, what to do with over one hundred 1,500 pound Holstein cows that must be milked twice a day or risk injury or even death?
It's simple. Call a few of your friends. They jump into their Monster Trucks with even Bigger Trailers, race over to your place before the fire departments finish rolling up their hoses. Forget that the drivers have to wake up in two or three hours to milk their own herds. So they pack up the beefy critters and take them to, um, where? It's not like you have a dozen kittens or a few guinea pigs. Bossie and 99 of her friends can't squeeze into just anyplace.
Enter the York County wing of the Pennsylvania Animal Response Team-- what, you didn't know there was such a group?--with Linda Spahr and Cindy Johnson leading the charge and making telephone calls. Within minutes, they found a newly vacated dairy farm just six miles away. It was ready to go, and all it needed were some cows. Perrydell Farm was just the ticket.
So, while a fire is rarely a good thing, all the pieces to this puzzle worked out. All evening, the Perrydell folks were saying, "Amazing. Look at all these people. We're grateful for all the support."
They shouldn't have been surprised. What goes around, comes around. For years, the friendly Perrydell families have opened their farm to schools, churches and other various groups to show people that milk and ice cream isn't manufactured in the back of a grocery store. Everyone leaves with a smile on their face.
The Perrys have been offered donations to help in the rebuilding effort, but they have declined, suggesting instead that the money be given to the fire departments that worked the fire. How can you top that?
If you get a chance, stop by the farm's retail store--it's open for business as usual. Grab a bottle of chocolate milk. Yep, it's awesome.
At Aldersgate United Methodist Church in York, the children are learning the songs for "One Starry Night", presented December 9 and 10. From the web site-- Travel back in time to the village of Bethlehem the night Jesus was born. This inter-active, inter-generational event is free and open to the public. All your senses will be stimulated: hear the cry of the census taker and the pleas from the beggar at the well; smell the aromas from the bakery; see King Herod's throne room; taste some local produce; touch the animals at the stable.
The York Youth Symphony Orchestra opens its season Friday, November 18 at 7:30 p.m. at the William Penn High School auditorium. More than 70 young musicians represent 10 high schools throughout York County. It is an amazing group of youngsters, reminding me of a trip more than 30 years ago to Scotland. I accompanied the orchestra during a tour of Scotland, and it remains one of my fondest memories. We saw the queen's motorcade, castles, ate haggis, listened to exquisite music and made new friends, some of which I still treasure today.
Wednesday was a great day to be outside, soaking up the outdoors. Bill Charron of Mechanisburg takes Mattie, his adorable rescued spitz mix puppy, a backpack full of discs (frisbees) and heads for one of Pinchot State Park's two disc golf courses.
Disc golf is very comparable to 'ball golf'. Players fling the disc from a tee and use as few strokes as possible to sink the disc. Instead of a hole, it's a short tower with hanging chains, which clank together to signal a successful 'putt'. Like ball golf, there is par for each hole.
Players can play the course with a sharp focus on the game. Or they can wander it, or trot it. Some don't finish, finding something along the way that's even more interesting.
And, like ball golf, even if players don't make par, it's not a wasted day if you spend it walking through colorful woods and under clear skies with friends. And a dog named Mattie trotting along beside you.
Charron, a lawyer on self imposed temporary retirement, has traveled the country from the east coast to the west coast challenging other players to outplay him. It doesn't happen often. Last year, Charron finished second in the national disc tournament, ball golf's U.S. Open.
Had a herd of robins on a pyracantha (firethorn) bush today. Now, usually, it's a flock of birds or a gaggle of geese or a murder of crows, but in this case, there were so many I'd say it was a herd.
Must have been a least two dozen robins on the bush, and they were stripping berries quicker than a politician taking dollars. Cedar waxwings also like the berries.
From http://www.plant-care.com-- Birds are fond of the berries and consume a great many of them, although not usually until they have been softened by freezing. When used near a feeding station it is interesting to watch the small birds eat the fruits for dessert after they have already gorged themselves at the feeding trays. With this in mind, it is desirable to have at least one planting of pyracantha so that it can easily be seen from indoors, as it is pleasurable to observe the birds feeding on the berries, especially after a heavy snowfall.
Ranging in ages from 12 to 60-something, a crowd of York YWCA members took advantage of a free scuba diving lesson from Scuba Central Pa. There's little doubt that this lesson won't be the last for some of the students.
Last weekend's trip to Vermont and Quebec featured a search for the state's covered bridges (there are 100 still standing after August flooding destroyed two) and waterfalls. Pennsylvania has 200 covered bridges, more than any state in the country. Vermont and New Hampshire, which combined are about half the size of Pennsylvania, boast having the most bridges per square mile. We stopped at a few, most of which were close to waterfalls, also on our list.
The Holmes Creek Bridge at left stands just a few feet away from the splashing waves of Lake Champlain, a few miles south of Burlington. From the web site--"Purported to be the shortest covered highway bridge in use in New England; at 112' above sea level, it is the lowest altitude covered bridge in Vermont. When the town's Select Board approved the bridge, it was specified to allow passage of "a load of hay, high and wide."
In the late 1800s, the Holmes family, for whom the creek and thus the bridge were named, operated what was supposedly to be the largest apple orchard in New England, shipping apples to distant places."
At left is the Red/Sterling Bridge, just north of Stowe, where skiers can find the best snow in the northeast. Built in 1896, the bridge is about 64 feet long. We had to detour around the main road to get there, since construction work was still going on to replace a washed out bridge nearby.
The Halpin Bridge, below, is supposed to be the highest bridge over water level in Vermont. Muddy Branch creek is 41 feet below the bridge, and trees and weeds make it tough to see. Private property is posted on one side, so you'll have to ford the creek from the other side to see the bridge at all.
More than 200 people are volunteering to help build a massive no-barrier playground for Leg Up Farm, an East Manchester Township treatment center for children with special needs. The weekend's surprise snow storm made the project a challenge, but when it melted and turned to mud, well, snow was probably preferred.
Volunteers included bankers, construction workers, real estate agents, physical therapists and high school cheerleaders.
Ribbon cutting for the playground is Sunday, November 6, at 6 p.m. It is open to the public.
An extended weekend trip to northern Vermont and Quebec was a theme drive, during which we searched for dozens of waterfalls and covered bridges.
Chose to show these quiet waterfalls as misty, serene streams by using slow shutter speeds.
We still were able to see plenty of damage from Hurricane Irene, most apparent with all the new pavement on roads parelleling the rivers. It was strange seeing huge logs laying in the middle of farm fields where they were floated and then left when water receded. Debris was still stacked against bridges and now-tiny creeks were crawling through the center of shredded farmland.
It was hard to imagine what these quiet streams must have looked like during Irene.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
The Tattooed Rosies, a group of 22 local women with tattoos, are putting together a calendar to raise money for a yet-unknown charity of their choice, but they are also trying to change the image of women with tattoos, they say. It's rather tawdry.
Funny, I don't have a problem with women with tattoos. Aren't we beyond making judgements by someone's appearance? Some of my favorite people in the world have tattoos. People like Cecily, Kate, Jackie, Anastasia.
A few photos from the weekend in the Adirondack Mountains in New York. Was raining hard when we stopped, but the rain soon quit, giving up a beautiful rainbow, and a hint of a double. The picture at bottom left is from Ausable Chasm, a place my family visited often when I was young.
A few more photos from Montreal. Went to one
of the fabulous markets, and discovered that not knowing French could really get your taste buds in big trouble, or maybe introduce them to an adventure.
Chevreuil-au-vin-rouge is venison with red wine.
Sanglier aux canneberges is wild boar with cranberries Fromage de chevre is goat cheese. Cari and champignons is gratin curried mushrooms on croutons Dinde brie and poire is turkey. Miel and ail is Honey Garlic for sore throats, colds and allergies. (At least, that's what Google says.) Canard is duck. This particular market was making sandwiches as well, and I was hoping to try one of the above sausages. Unfortunately, all the lunches were only of hot, medium or mild sausage. Basically, it was a hot dog. (All translations from Google.)
My sincere apologies to my baseball-fan friends who are certain that what I'm about to write is sacrilegious.
I find baseball boring.
The pitcher throws 100 pitches over a two or three hour stretch, and the batters hit six. Yes sir, that's excitement. My heart can't take it.
A former co-worker, Pat Abdalla, knows more about baseball than most men know about their wives. He's amazing, but even Pat's vast library of knowledge didn't help.
I enjoy photographing baseball, not watching it.
Baseball is America's game. For that reason, if no other, I've tried to like watching baseball. Really. First, I can't sit in one place for that long-- a good reason for getting up to find another hot dog. And, I fall asleep. In hockey, players at least skate up and down the ice a few times before they sit down. That's Canada's game, and I don't feel un-American for not watching hockey. I've sat through dozens of gawd-awful 1-0 soccer games too, but at least there is some action somewhere on the field. And that's Europe's game.
Trying to understand baseball fans' love of the game, I've read a few baseball books. "Three Nights in August", is a book about St. Louis Cardinals manager Tony LaRussa taking his team through the 2003 season. Once finished, I was convinced I could manage a major league baseball team. Or so could my four-year old neighbor kid, a hunk of granite or my cat-- if it could speak in f-bombs.
In the interest of true disclosure, I admit I thoroughly enjoyed some baseball films. "A League of Their Own", "Bull Durham", and "Field of Dreams" are among my favorites. I'll see Moneyball soon. Maybe baseball is shown best not on a baseball field, but in one's imagination on a big screen.
I remember my grandfather sitting in front of the television watching Cleveland Indians game, and listening to it on the radio (he didn't like Cleveland's TV announcer). He logged a lot of games with names like Rocky Colavito, Sudden Sam McDowell, Bob Lemon and Early Wynn. He enjoyed the complete relaxation of it all. I wonder if he ever fell asleep.
Anyway, I visited York Revolution Darrell Henry's home Thursday night to listen to him think out loud. Explain the intricacies of the game, the strategy, the hidden Mensa logic behind it all. I listened, videoed his thoughts and the game. His wife Kristyn and six-week old daughter Peyton fell asleep watching the game. I understood.
I really want to love baseball, just like I love Mom and apple pie. But it's not happening.
Montreal's downtown has a strange feel to it, coming from the United States. It feels safe, despite the surprisingly open and plentiful homeless or panhandlers. One might assume that if they have no money, they'd take it from you-- it happens here. But the panhandlers in Montreal are friendly, almost mannerly. They give directions to lost tourists, suggest that they have a nice day and, by the way, if you have some change, he'd be happy to take it off your hands, but only if you want to give it.
I met Dave there, and a charitable group had just dropped off some food to a few of his friends. As he packed it away for a later snack, he lit cigarette after cigarette. In the 15 minutes or so that I talked with him, he puffed his way through three. He blamed his government for his problems; he spoke in circles about food, jobs, money, food, jobs and money.
Street musicians are common here as well. A saxophonist played for coins in old town, but he said he was heading down to the Canadiens' opening game-- there's always money to spare there, he says. He sits outside the arena as fans leave the game. His repertoire is somewhat limited; I heard a Theme from a Summer Place a half dozen times. He said he could make about $80 in two hours here. His reed was tied on with some sort of string, not clamped with a ligature. Nearby was a drummer and a clarinet player.
Sleeping on a bench along the water was another man. Don't know if he was homeless, a panhandler, or just tired. Maybe he just needed a nap. His bike was locked to the bench on which he slept.
The group opens at 11 p.m. Christmas Eve with an inside concert, but at midnight-- not five or 10 minutes past midnight, but AT midnight-- they adjourn to the town square, where hundreds of fans join them. Some of the crowds sings, some hum, some just tag along and listen to the music, some younger folks just tag along and do what younger folks have always done-- be loud and hang out with their friends.
