More Views of Croton Point Park

"While strolling through the park one day......."

No extra charge for the beauty

My outdoor autumn carpeting

As mentioned in an earlier post, there is a bathhouse situated along the main road into the park that has fallen into disrepair and no long in use.

MicroMacro Mural on Bathhouse

What catches the visitor's eye are the four murals painted on the road facing side of the abandoned building. At first I thought they were composed of inlaid ceramic tiles forming the mosaic.  Upon closer inspection, however....

....they're paintings on squares of wood.  There must be some type of treatment that has preserved the surface all these years.  I researched the origin of the murals and found that Mariah Fee is the artist and the murals were created in 1997:

About Mariah Fee

"The site of the Micro/Macro Mural is the Hudson River, Croton Point Park, New York.  The project began as a collaboration between two artists and was funded by the Westchester Arts Council.  The early states of the mural were sponsored by the Council for mural work in the Westchester schools; therefore, a curriculum-inspired theme of the plant ecology and the geology of this stretch of the Hudson River was the original source for the imagery.  Research by the artists deepened and diversified the visual narrative.  The four panels juxtapose micro close views with macro birds eye vistas." 

Source of Information

From website

This is how they appeared when I photographed them Thursday.  I've cropped and enhanced the photos.  Thank you Chuck for the Canon G7 (and Picasa) both of which have been doing a good job with my photographs.

"The far left panel is the river’s macro view; an almost aerial aspect, a mapping, the Shad life cycle, indigenous plants."  

"Next, the microcosm of the Hudson’s water: plankton, water fleas, diatoms."

"Then, a macro vista shows the great river curve, the grand presence of the rock’s ancient earth formations."

"Finally, the geological micro panel of the native rock, patterned sections of Palisade’s basalt, quartz and crinoids, fossils found in calcium carbonate deposits of marbles and limestone."

Does this remind you of one of Windows XP's desktop themes?

Imagine traveling all the way from Elizaville to greet me?
How nice was that?

November 1st and our trees are not all changed.

                    

Well, that's it for today.  With blustery winds trying to clear the trees of the already dead leaves, the temperature of 47 is creating a wind chill of 37 degrees.  Next to the pitter-patter of rain on the roof, (almost) "howling" winds are my favorite sounds...not to mention the rocking motion of Winnie now and then.  Love it!  Time to start dinner.  Tonight, it'll be hot French onion soup with rice (from leftovers) topped with shaved Jarlsberg cheese and a glass of Cupcake Chardonnay.  You'll have to go without the visual.  My reading for this week has been the third novel of Brandon Sanderson's Trilogy, Mistborn: "The Hero of Ages."

Winding Down the Season

With three days left to my 2014 Camping Season, I'm greeted with a breezy, rainy day.  With overcast skies and drizzle, I'm glad I didn't set up anything outside.  Such things include the extended awning, covers for the picnic table, large pad to help prevent tracking debris into the coach, my Coleman Sportster grill and the screened tent which is usually reserved for the summer bugs and insects.  I don't think any of them would dry out by Wednesday when I leave. 

Wednesday will be WWWW day (Winterizing Winnie on Wednesday for Winter).  My first attempt at an annual event for those who don't or cannot slip out of the northeast in time for the freezing temperatures due to arrive very soon.  The Winnebago manual lists the steps very nicely for me but as added insurance I'll have neighbor, Craig, available for consultation and assistance, if needed.  George, the smart one, will hi-tail it outta Dodge before having to do any of that stuff because he and Vicki will spend their new life's adventure in the south beginning December 2nd.

Simply put, it's a matter of removing the filter in the galley sink, draining all water lines--including the hot water tank-- and replacing with antifreeze; then filling the traps and holding tanks with antifreeze.  The protection will be short lived however, as I plan to reverse the procedure when I arrived in the warmer climate of the south in late January:  drain antifreeze and replace with fresh water.  Repeat in February when I return? Or will inclement weather "force me" to remain south?  We shall see.

Yesterday, as I peeked out, I caught an unusual sight:  3 young ducklings or goslings chasing and following a 6 or 7 year old everywhere she went.  I knew they weren't part of the park's "wildlife".  With camera in hand, I went over to watch and asked the mother for permission to film.  Turns out these three siblings were rejected by their mother and cared for by this family as she explains in  the video;

Cute as they are now, these Muscovies, or Scovies, and will lose their "cuteness" as adults.

Will take a break here for lunch and then post again later this afternoon.  I have some photos from my walk the other day that I want to share or at least include in my "journal."

All Hallows Eve

     On this, All Hallows Eve, it happens also to be my dear granddaughter, Rebeca's, birthday.  This little çmunchkin has brought us so much joy, happiness, and pride, it is difficult to think she's a young womanè now at nineteen years of age.

     It is only proper camping here in the darkness of Croton's RV park to go back in time to when we were young and scoured our neighborhoods for what was then "good, clean, mischievous fun." There were no worries and incidents such as we read about today.  Times have changed and no one you talk to disagrees.

     With tomorrow night being Halloween, I've been hearing through the grapevine that one of my previous posts written about my "Nighttime Exploration of the Campsite" made it past the realm of fantasy and my love of writing into the world of reality for some readers.  I think there should be a thank you inserted here if you thought it was true.  Alas, it was not.

     However, Halloween does bring back one memory, one incident that does linger for me.  It was a typical chilly October afternoon--late afternoon--just about the time parents would want children home to get ready for dinner.  We kids were trying for those last few minutes to finish a great afternoon of fun.  Late October, however, was the time that brought darkness at 5:30 - 6:00 p.m.  My friends and I loved to play in the field nearby.  The chill nipped but the type of active play caused it to go unnoticed.  The thought had passed through my mind that I should stop now and head back home.  That would take another ten minutes.

          The abandoned house at the other side of the field had always intrigued me.  It beckoned me in an eerie way and for some reason when it was suggested we go over and look around, I joined in and went right along with my two other friends.  The house was partially boarded up but not enough to keep anyone out.  It wasn't the haunted type as kids would rumor, but still...it was secluded, out of the way, and nestled among tall pines.

          Once inside, the air, of course, was colder; it was darker and the lack of afternoon sun gave us only a view of objects nearby.  We've never been here before and as the darkness obscured even shadows now, we found ourselves in the basement.  The old style house had three floors with a full basement and wooden, creaky staircases.  It must have been our desire to look for old valuable objects that drew us down there.   But once there, few words were spoken.  The dirt floor was dry and dusty.  The walls were damp and it must have been this dampness that caused the musty odor of mildew.

           There were three of us here but in this eerie darkness, I saw no one.  The cellar windows were boarded up and I knew the stairs were over my left shoulder.  What increased my anxiety was the lack of noise, especially with three young boys present.  Typical of my friends, they would purposely not answer my whispered call.  To show they didn't get to me with this childish prank, I continued to find my way by feeling along the wall.  It was then that I knew I was wrong.  I was wrong for being there...in this situation...at this time.  I was wrong for not getting home at the time requested by my mother.  It was wrong for the other two guys not to consider the situation and say something of their whereabouts in this inky, empty place.  The word 'empty' quickly left my mind when I heard the noise.  Ground level; a few feet in front of me.  The noise (the only noise I had heard since I began my somewhat secure trip around the perimeter of this cellar) was like a heavy boot being let down rather hard onto soft earth: sort of a thud! The wall my nervous hands probed had all sorts of nooks and crannies as I would have ex­pected for an earthen bank.  All of a sudden, the texture of the wall changed.  I felt a rough smoothness, like that of wool.  It wasn't earth.  It was clothing.  This change of texture sent chills that caused a pain in the nape of my neck, hairs on the back of my head to stand, and a cold sweat to form on my already frigid face.  Screaming or calling out was out of the question.  The woolen piece of clothing had no substance to it.  To push in on it or to apply the slightest pressure caused it to give.  I would have been relieved to find it firm as if it hung on some sort of board.  This did not.  

     My hands continued to grope ever so softly but quickly.  Doing this gave me the outline of a human figure too large to be one of my friends.  My worst fear was realized when I drew my hands upward to where a face should have been and there--above my head--there it was; warm flesh.  A beard-stubbled face.  A person was as tight against the wall as he could get.  This is what caused the shocking pain to race throughout my body as I jerked my hand away and ran to where I thought the stairs should be.  With hands outstretched feeling my way, I stumbled twice over my own feet.  Once at the stairs, I felt I would scream..and did.  With a racing, heart-pounding beat I leaped up the first three steps when the hand grabbed my ankle.  The grip was tight; forceful! I was yanked downward two steps before I could cushion my head and face with my crooked arm.  By the time I was at ground level, my lungs were filled with the dirt and loose dust created by the sweeping action of my dragged body.  I knew that my strength was no match for that which held me but once I was on the flat bumpy surface, I used my other foot to scrape off the vise-like clasp of a still hidden form.  One or two stomps of one foot on the gloved hand holding my other foot at last freed me.  These events were an eternity of but a few seconds.  My terrified, piercing scream echoed in this danky, horror-filled dungeon.  With my sense of direction completely gone, I flung myself a few yards forward and crashed into a wall that crumbled, collapsed, and sent me reeling through a wooden door.  Bewildered and stunned, I was conscious as I held my breath and listened.  My heart surely could be heard pounding for miles.  I could feel hot blood rushing through veins in my neck and close to the surface of my skin.  I'm sure one could see the pulsations of greatly expanded vessels.  I heard not a pin drop.  

     I felt safe for now I was able to scan my immediate surroundings and at long last realized I was outside at the rear of the house. I raced home across the field, threw open the door and incoherently related the incident to my parents.  They immediately called the police who, after hours of searching, could find no trace of my two friends.  Throughout the next day in the warm security of a bright sun the search continued.  Their whereabouts remained unknown.  This Halloween incident continues to haunt me and the mystery remains.

     By now it should be no mystery to the reader that I have a thing for abandoned structures, dark, silent nights, and disappearing bodies.  I wrote this piece of fiction about twenty years ago.  Have a safe and fun Halloween anyway.  

Hello Again, Croton

Much to my surprise, I awoke at 8:30 am....something I rarely do.  If you know me, you know my sleep habits.  Five or six hours of sleep seem to be enough.  Today I was greeted with a going away present.  On my last day, the forest representatives stopped by to bid me a fond farewell.

This fat, little creature spent dawn till dusk doing nothing but moving the thick carpet of fallen leaves out of the way foraging for acorns.  Every day of my stay, dawn till dusk that's what it did.  I anticipated a hawk swooping down and making a meal of it but it was lucky.

At 8:30 am, I thought it a bit late for this trio to be foraging but there they were.  As a deer whisperer, it be-hooved me to pay attention for they knew I'd be going fur.  I made my points by saying it was nice stalking to you butt I doe know if they understood. I certainly didn't want to get into a rut but still, I'm happy to have gotten these photos.  Buck because they were taken at an odd angle from inside my RV and through a window, it's the best I could do through sleepy doe eyes.  

And so began the closing up and preparations for my journey back to Croton for my final RV adventure (for this year).  Yes, January 19, 2015, a new chapter and a new adventure awaits.  Today, I accomplished everything I set out to do.  I picked up essentials at a Stop & Shop in Red Hook (Dollars spent equals points I use toward Shell gasoline).  The total spent today brought me over the 100 point mark which afforded me a $.10/gallon reduction in gasoline.  So Winnie was treated to full tank.  With the S&S card, diesel fuel was $3.659 (cash or debit card).  Very pleased with that.  Next, I stopped to fill my propane tank.  There, on Route 9 in Cold Spring is Synergy Gas where much to my delight, propane was $3.22/gallon.  When I arrived in Croton at 4:30 pm, I was greeted with a light drizzle that turned into rain just as I was hooking up.  A quick job of that had me inside warm and cozy with a cup of coffee and yes, quite happy with the savings today.

As I await my friends V&G driving in with Allie tomorrow afternoon,  I should like to direct anyone who know V&G to check out her blog at this site  She's a great writer and I find her blog posts to be interesting and always a good read that will keep your interest till the end.  At the end of her posts are her "Deep Thoughts for Today."  She may research some but most, I think, are her own thoughts and deep they are.  We're both Geminis so that explains it all, I'm sure.  P.S. In case you don't know us, read on:

At 12:35 am, I bid you good night.

  

My Last Night in Brook n Wood

Sunset on My Last Night

The Fire in the Sky

How Many Shades of Blue?

Even the Finale Contains Spectacular Brush Strokes.

Can you possibly describe or give the name of any of the colors painted by God's paint brush on the infinite canvas we call sky?

What I planned (to catch a glimpse of the rocket launch from Virginia) turned out to be a "catastrophic anomaly" resulting in the destruction of the cargo ship destined for the ISS seconds after launch.  Watch here Very bad news in terms of the lost instruments, supplies, replacement parts, etc.....5,000 pounds worth goodness knows how much. The good news, of course, was that there were no injuries and all workers are accounted for.  Even while hanging around at the highest point in the campground, I was not optimistic about the low cloud cover that would impede the view anyway.  I saw no blue patches like I did last night  However, when viewing more toward the west where the sun had set (5:54 pm), Mother Nature provided yet another Fall spectacle by making use of that low cloud cover.  And, as usual, I was fortunate and thankful to be able and witness it.

And so, another week of camping comes to a close with the next trip beginning as soon as I depart this campground in Elizaville, NY.  The entire site is nice enough to return when humans once again occupy the many vacant sites.  The facility is clean, well maintained, and there is a site location for every condition an RVer would want: open spaces, shade, along a creek, wooded, dry docking or with full hookups.  I plan to return next season.

I'll take off about noon tomorrow and stop somewhere for a leisurely lunch because I cannot (so they say) register at Croton until 3:00 pm; although this time of the year, I don't think it matters or anyone cares.  The other reason for killing time is my need to refill my propane tanks.  The best price I've found ($3.39/gal) was on my to Croton at Synergy Gas on route 9 in Cold Spring. The person to fascilitate the fill will be available after 3 pm.

While temperatures remains above 36°, I am able to use the Heat Pump (built into the air conditioning unit on the roof) and it runs on electricity.  The heat pump works the opposite way the AC works.  While the AC draws heat from the coach to the outside, the heat pump extracts heat from the outside and carries it into the coach.  At  36°, this heat pump method is no longer efficient so I must turn on my other heating unit, the furnace, which runs on propane.  It warms quickly and is much quieter than the heat pump.

Next, I'll fill my diesel fuel at Appalachian, also on route 9, but in Garrison.  And then, hello Croton RV park.  Stay tuned (if you want).  Once I get Caddy back down to Croton with me, I'll restock, refresh, and rejuvenate to once again enjoy my RV and the environment I find myself.

More from Elizaville

Second Novel of Trilogy completed

I was introduced to this boxed set of Brandon Sanderson's Triology, Mistborn Trilogy, by my friend and former student, Paul Smith, as we discussed it on our way home from the airport.  Included is:  Mistborn, The Well of Ascension, and The Hero of Ages.  Partial synopses will give you an idea of content.  I'm looking forward to the third and final novel, The Hero of Ages. Will have to remember to have it with me while at Croton's RV Park later this week.

Mistborn, the first novel, is "set in a world where ash falls from the sky, and mist dominates the night, an evil cloaks the land and stifles all life. The future of the empire rests on the shoulders of a troublemaker and his young apprentice. Together, can they fill the world with color once more?  In Brandon Sanderson's intriguing tale of love, loss, despair and hope, a new kind of magic enters the stage - Allomancy, a magic of the metals."

Yesterday, I finished The Well of Ascension, where "the impossible has been accomplished. The Lord Ruler – the man who claimed to be god incarnate and brutally ruled the world for a thousand years – has been vanquished. But Kelsier, the hero who masterminded that triumph, is dead too, and now the awesome task of building a new world has been left to his young protégé, Vin, the former street urchin who is now the most powerful Mistborn in the land, and to the idealistic young nobleman she loves."

Viewing the Antares Rocket Launch Tonight

There I was up on one of the highest locations in the campsite last night.  At 6:45 pm, I anticipated a view of an "Anteres rocket ship that was scheduled to take off from NASA's Wallops Flight Facility on Wallops Island in Virginia....When a boat appeared downrange of the takeoff site, officials were forced to call off the launch plans" and rescheduled it for this evening at 6:22 pm.  Cloud cover permitting, I'll return and hopefully have a great view (at 6:25 pm) of the event.  It's carrying 5 tons of cargo to the ISS and will return with its garbage, all of which will disintegrate as it re-enters the earth's atmosphere.

Read more: http://www.upi.com/Science_News/2014/10/28/Space-station-resupply-launch-delayed-by-drifting-boat/4051414501356/#ixzz3HS6uaKDN

I should see it 180  seconds after liftoff:

I think I'm in the yellow zone

I did accomplish something, however.

The evening sky at sunset last night was beautiful