Tag: Closer to home

Tiptoe Through the Tulips

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Tulips the early heralds of spring and the changing weather fill the hills with bright rows of color. Their hues stretch across the spectrum, from fiery red to deepest purple, and their petals are just as varied. They’re also famously tied to history’s first financial speculative bubble, a craze that plunged many Dutch citizens into ruin and left a lasting mark on market regulations. Still, despite that rocky past, the Dutch never forgot their love affair with the flower. Today, they remain a leading producer of tulip bulbs, and each spring, massive swaths of land transform into a living quilt of color as millions of flowers bloom.

I’ve always loved pictures of those majestic fields, windmills standing vigil over seas of blossoms. That said, my allergies would likely stage a protest in the Dutch countryside—and truthfully, the Netherlands doesn’t rank high on my list of must-see destinations. Maybe I’d go if the opportunity presented itself, but there’s no guarantee that it would align with the short-lived tulip season.

What’s a budget-minded girl to do? As it turns out, sometimes you stumble upon the perfect solution when you’re not even looking for it.

There are times when an answer appears to a question you didn’t even know you’d asked. I’ve certainly enjoyed pictures of Holland’s flower fields, but they never inspired the wistful longing other countries have stirred in me. So, I didn’t add them to my list, dismissing the idea out of hand. I try to keep my travel dreams at least somewhat realistic—or else the list would be three times as long. But let this be a lesson, dear reader: never dismiss a dream, no matter how small or unformed.

Though I never truly asked, the universe still answered with a humble billboard: “Tulip Field, Opening April 12th.” Tulip fields? In Pennsylvania? Perhaps I was too quick to rule out my floral fantasy.

April 12th turned out to be cold, wet, and rainy and not ideal for tiptoeing through anything. Besides, opening day crowds come with added chaos and, let’s be honest, possibly terrible music. Twangy Country or bouncy pop blasting over loudspeakers isn’t how I envision my contemplative flower field stroll. I checked my calendar for a better date, one early enough to catch peak bloom, but not a weekend (crowds again!) and ideally with cheaper tickets (this is a budget minded blog, after all).

Less than a week later, on a balmy spring day, I made my way to Flaughbach’s Orchard. The temperature was a perfect 70°F (21°C), and a cheerful breeze danced among the tulips, gently teasing them as she passed. While it was a far cry from the sprawling Dutch fields of my imagination, it was a lovely scene in its own right. Had I been truly committed to a riot of color, I could’ve waited two more weeks and driven three hours north to Brown Hill Farms, where 500,000 tulips bloom across four acres.

Upon arrival, I was handed a pair of shears and informed I could pick two flowers as part of my ticket (with the option to purchase more). But my goal wasn’t to build a bouquet, it was to bask in beauty. I wandered through neatly arranged rows of flowers, encountering charming photo ops along the way: antique bikes, vintage tractors, even a swing for a more whimsical touch. Naturally, I couldn’t resist snapping a few photos, but mostly, I just walked. The field reminded me of a stained-glass window or a floor made of colorful mosaic tiles.

Benches were thoughtfully scattered around the field, perfect for quiet contemplation. I loved feeling the warm sun on my face and the breeze on my skirt. I didn’t stay long, but long enough to enjoy the moment and properly welcome spring in all her glory.

Next year, I may make that pilgrimage north to see the larger fields that have enchanted me for so long. But maybe not. This experience might fall under my “good enough” category; it was joyful, beautiful, and deeply satisfying.

So, how can you tiptoe through the tulips?

You don’t need to wait for the universe to come knocking. Just open your browser and search for tulip fields near you. If you live in the South, it may be a bit trickier, but don’t lose hope. Pilot Point, Texas, and New Market, Alabama both boast quite respectable fields. Up North, there are plenty of spots to chase tulip season. Some may come in the form of botanical gardens; others, humble local farms like Flaughbach’s. Or you might go all in and visit Windmill Island Gardens in Holland, MI (with over four miles of tulips!), or top spots like Pella, Iowa; Woodburn, Oregon; Modesto, California; Mount Vernon, Washington; and Exeter, Rhode Island.

The lesson I learned? Don’t be so quick to downplay your dreams, even the small ones. I try to keep my “undone” list reasonable, and I often add to my “done” list as opportunities arise, especially if they’re spur-of-the-moment or just for fun. But this was something I truly wanted to do, and I’m glad the universe nudged me toward it.

So, I encourage you, dear reader: dream big. Write it all down. Ask for it. The blessing may find you anyway.

Completed: 2025

Cost: $7 to visit the field

Miles from home: 25

Tea at Sea!

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Alright gentle reader, technically, it was a bay and not a sea. However, I did get to hoist the sails and attempt to steer the ship. Yes, technically it was a boat; although I”m not sure I know the difference if we’re being honest. Regardless of the pesky nomenclature, I provided an excellent afternoon tea out on a large body of water in a sailing vessel of some sort. Additionally, I made sure to be properly attired for a day’s outing on the water. With the help of a well placed hat pin not even the wind could dissuade me from my determination to have a little extra flare. After all, where would we be as a society if we allowed ourselves to descend into the mundane and boring, especially when it comes to fashion?

In the midst of COVID, with everything shut down and limitations on movement and gathering, the small but scrappy non-profit I worked for decided to offer its employees a day out with one of our board members, Peggy, on her private boat. To say that I was excited is truly an understatement. It was once again, one of those Bucket List Items that I had mentally placed under “most likely not happening any time soon” as I thought it would cost a lot of money to go. This might be the reason I was a little over the top, but honestly that’s part of who I am. I’m the woman who will put together an entire costume or outfit for even the most slightly themed party or obscure holiday. 

It was truly the morale boost that we needed. To avoid a disruption of vital client services and given the size of the boat, we divided ourselves into two teams which would go on two different days. We also divided up bringing food and other snacks to share. I led the way with letting them all know that I was going to have us do a tea at sea, I would provide the sandwiches, the tea cups, scones and clotted cream. Was it the more costly and time consuming option? Yes, but I was going to take this opportunity that the universe presented me and make the absolute most of it. Before you question my judgement of bringing tea cups on board a ship, know I take quite good care of my china and wouldn’t subject them to the dangers of the open waters. I found these absolutely gorgeous paper cups online! 

We loaded ourselves up early that morning, crammed into one of my co-worker’s vans like the start of some quiet, well-mannered heist armed with gps and good humor. I had chosen to go with the more reserved, soft-spoken of my co-workers. What can I say? They paired better with tea than with the loud, pirate-hearted group that went the day before, I am fairly certain they snuck booze despite the prohibition against it, like I said, pirates. Not that I couldn’t hang with both, I absolutely could. And the temptation to burst into sea shanties was quite real, I assure you.

As we drew closer to our destination, the world around us began to shift. The foliage thinned, and the trees gave way to the briny breath of the sea. The air changed too, tinged with salt and carried on a breeze that hinted at something just beyond the horizon. We heard the call of gulls before we even saw the water. Then suddenly, there it was—a small forest of masts rising from the docks like white trees, standing in quiet anticipation.

Waiting for us at the dock was our fearless leader and Executive Director, Deb, who waved us down with her signature confidence. She led us up the wooden planks to our boat, where we were introduced to our captain for the day, Peggy’s husband, Captain Bob.

I was surprised by the size of the boat as it was deceptively spacious, like a magician’s trick. Every inch of it had a purpose. Storage tucked into nooks, seating that converted, a compact bathroom that came with very specific instructions. Bob walked us through the essentials with the seasoned calm of someone who knew that one improperly flushed toilet could quite ruin the whole experience.

After a short safety overview, it was time to sail. Bob asked for volunteers, and I naturally stepped forward to hoist the sails. He called out instructions with the steady ease of a man who’s done this a thousand times, while Peggy provided cheerful backup support. I took hold of the rope with both hands to gleefully, heave ho and all that. The wind caught, the sails filled, and the boat surged forward with a kind of wild grace.

From that moment on, everything shifted into something more elemental. The boat leaned into the wind, the ropes pulled taut, and the world became motion and sound—the rush of air, the splash of spray, the low groan of wood and rope in motion. It felt like stepping out of the everyday and into something ancient.

Those brave enough made their way to the prow, legs dangling over the edge, laughing as waves splashed up to greet them. Time didn’t pass in hours out there. It passed in shadows, in sunlight shifting on the water, in bursts of laughter and long silences where we just watched the horizon breathe.

Then came the offer I hadn’t expected, Bob asked if anyone wanted to steer.

Of course, I wanted to steer the ship!

Taking the wheel was like grabbing hold of something alive. The boat didn’t just move; it responded. The wind pulled one way, the water pushed another, and the rudder spoke a language I didn’t quite know but instinctively wanted to understand. Every twitch of my hands echoed through the vessel. I had to fight the urge to overcorrect—big boat, big movements, right? Wrong. It was the subtle shifts that mattered. I wasn’t just steering a boat, I was holding a moment in my hands, trying not to crush it. I shall admit, I was not the best helmsman, but it wasn’t bad for a first go! 

At lunchtime, I unveiled my small, slightly theatrical feast of tea sandwiches and scones. Though there was no clinking of teacups, people were quite amused by them. A delighted Peggy gasped when she spotted the clotted cream asking for where on earth I had found it; she hadn’t had clotted cream since she was in England years ago.

I smiled and told her, with all the drama she deserved, “The local grocery store.”

We laughed, we feasted, we sipped, and apart from poor Beth, who succumbed to a bit of seasickness, our tea at sea was a grand success.

The rest of the sail was a blend of freedom and focus, the hiss of waves, the sudden thrill of turning into the wind, the scent of salt and sun warming the deck. It was chaos and calm, all wrapped into one. I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect day for checking off my list. . 

By late afternoon, we returned to the dock. We changed into swimsuits and slipped into the pool, letting the cool water wash away the heat of the day. We splashed and floated, reluctant to let the water go.

That evening, we gathered for dinner at a local seafood spot, the kind with fresh-caught fish, buttery hushpuppies, and that oh, so infamous, Maryland crab. I will say the crab practically demanded a moment of silence in appreciation. Luckily for the crab, eating is just about the only time I am quiet. And just when we thought the day had ended, someone suggested a detour when they spotted a sign for ice cream. Because some days deserve a sweet ending. And this one? This one absolutely did.

So how can you enjoy a sailing adventure?

I’ll admit, not everyone has a friend with a boat—or a boss generous enough to invite you aboard. But that doesn’t mean a day at sea is out of reach. You can always charter a boat for yourself and a few intrepid comrades. Prices can range from around $200 to upwards of $2000, depending on the type of vessel and the duration of your trip. That said, splitting the cost among your group makes it much more manageable. If you’re like me and pack your own feast, you can trim expenses even further. The boat we sailed on would’ve likely cost each of us about $50 to $75 had we booked it ourselves. Sure, we probably wouldn’t have been trusted to hoist the sails or steer, but with seven of us, the cost would have been quite reasonable. 

This was one of those rare gifts from the universe, an unexpected adventure in the middle of a pandemic, at a time when most people could only dream of checking something off their list. I felt deeply grateful, especially after working so hard to help people who were experiencing homelessness with nowhere to go. Those long hours, with little reprieve and a general feeling of hopelessness at times to solve the problem can begin to wear on a person’s spirit. Sometimes, when you’re out there trying to do good, life surprises you with something beautiful in return.

So go ahead, pursue the good. You never know where it might take you, gentle reader.

How can you enjoy a day on the water?

Cost: Free (food was about 50) 

Miles from home: 115 miles

Completed 2020

Visiting Exhibtions: When the World Comes to You

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Pennsylvania is known as the Keystone State in part because of its strategic position on the Eastern Seaboard. It sits at the heart of the action on the East Coast and, thanks to the Mississippi River, serves as a gateway to the West. This historic and geographical advantage means I have relatively easy access to some incredible places. By extension, when traveling exhibitions come to those places, it’s not a terrible imposition for me to make the trip. Cities like New York, Philadelphia, Washington D.C., Pittsburgh, and Baltimore are all within reasonable distance.

It was by leveraging this advantage that I was able to see the Darwin exhibition at the American Museum of Natural History in New York, the King Tut exhibition in Philadelphia, and the Russian Tsars exhibition in Delaware. I’m not sharing this to brag about my state but rather to point out that, depending on where you are, you may be closer to the action than you realize. There are often more opportunities in your area than meet the eye.

The Darwin exhibition offered a fascinating look at the scientist’s life, work, and impact. It even featured two Galápagos giant tortoises. Darwin was a keen observer of nature, and through those observations, he developed one of the most revolutionary theories in the history of biology. His theory of evolution has shaped everything from genetics and epidemiology to biodiversity and our understanding of the fossil record. Prior to Darwin, most people saw the natural world as static and unchanging since the moment of creation. Instead, he proposed a dynamic and interdependent system in which relationships and exchanges alter the inhabitants of the world, who in turn shape their environment.

One of my favorite stories is how he looked at an orchid and hypothesized the existence of an undiscovered insect capable of pollinating it. That insect was discovered forty years after his death. This exhibit was the perfect combination of science, history, and anthropology. It showed how discoveries ripple outward into society and helped me understand just how interconnected everything truly is. Is it any wonder that seeing Darwin’s journals, tools, and legacy made its way onto my Bucket List?

Not to be outdone by New York, Philadelphia often hosts exhibitions and installations that rival its northern neighbor. Just because it’s the Keystone State doesn’t mean it lets the other states have all the fun. In the winter of 2007, I braved a snowstorm to visit the exhibition Tutankhamun and the Golden Age of the Pharaohs at the Franklin Institute. The exhibition included fifty major objects from King Tut’s tomb—among them a vessel containing his mummified organs—and over seventy artifacts from the royalty of Egypt’s 18th Dynasty (1555 to 1305 BC), including a sarcophagus.

King Tut’s tomb was discovered in 1922, sparking a global fascination with ancient Egypt that still persists—my own obsession included. Many of these artifacts have rarely left Egypt, so I certainly wasn’t going to let a snowstorm stop me from seizing this rare opportunity. It was history made tangible, a brush with the ancient world that I’ll never forget.

In 1998, Delaware hosted the first major Tsarist exhibition, Nicholas and Alexandra, and I was lucky enough to see it on a fifth-grade field trip. It left a lasting impression on me. We had spent several weeks learning about Russia’s history leading up to the Bolshevik Revolution and the rise of the Communist Party. Featuring nearly 700 objects, it was one of the largest and most prestigious collections of Russian treasures ever to tour outside the country. Most of the items had never before left Russia.

Among the many items on display were the Coronation Egg, an imperial throne, court gowns and uniforms, a gilded state carriage, and artifacts from the Russian Orthodox Church. Even as a child, I was struck by the sheer opulence of the exhibit—particularly the Fabergé Egg, which felt all the more extravagant when considered against the suffering of the Russian people at the time. The experience helped solidify my understanding of the revolution and the dangers of unchecked power and inequality. I’ll avoid getting too political here, but suffice it to say, it made an impression.

Each of these exhibitions made my Bucket List for different reasons. Each one broadened my perspective, deepened my understanding, and shaped how I see the world. They weren’t just collections of artifacts; they were immersive experiences that gave context to history, society, culture, and their ongoing relevance today. Most importantly, they taught me that I don’t always need to travel far to experience the world. Sometimes, the world comes to me.

How Can You Experience Unique Exhibitions?

Start by identifying how far you’re willing to travel. Then make a list of major cities or cultural hubs within that radius—they’re your best bets for hosting large-scale or rare exhibitions. But don’t count out smaller museums, either.

Check their websites to find out when they release their exhibition calendars. I’ve found that many post their schedules for the coming year, although some are less predictable. Once you know when they update their schedules, you can simply mark your calendar to check back. If there’s no set schedule, just take note of when the current exhibition ends and plan to check again around that time.

If you’re searching for something specific—say, an artist or historical topic you love—an online search every six to eight months may yield results. Just be prepared to wait. Some exhibitions, like the Russian Tsars, are generational events.

Lastly, if you’re visiting a city you don’t often travel to, take a few minutes to see what exhibitions are currently on display. You never know what rare gem you might find. It’s easy to miss out by only checking travel sites when planning your trip.

Costs: Range in price from $15 – $25 for museum entrance

Miles from home: Range from a 35 miles to 150

Completed: Childhood – College

A Festival of Flavor: PA Tea Festival

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I believe, dear reader, that I have already espoused my love and adoration for tea. I love the aroma of it wafting up from a warm cup in my hand. The first sip as it hit my tongue in an explosion of flavor. The way it moves the warmth down my throat and into my stomach. I love how well it pairs with little sandwiches. I love scones topped with clotted cream and curd. I love the frilly lace and fussy accouterments. I love the various honeys I can add for a hint of flavor from orange to lavender to raw to clover.  I love adding cream. I love adding milk to chai. I will drink it hot or cold, in the morning, afternoon or late at night. I’ve enjoyed it at my desk at work and as high tea in a parlor. So it should come as no surprise that I jumped at the chance to go to a festival devoted to this beverage.  

Our hosts for the Tea Festival are the ladies of The Rosemary House & Gardens. The shop is tucked in a small corner of Mechanicsburg, PA. It’s unassuming front hides an almost enchanted shop and herb garden. From the first moment, you walk in the door you know you are in someplace particularly special. The gentle smell of herbs instantly calms you as you take in the plethora of items adorning every corner of the shop. Everywhere you look merchandise is displayed on every available surface. It ranges from teas, to herbs, to honeys, to curds, to teapots, to fairies, to charms, to books and more. One could easily be mistaken into thinking one had stumbled into a fairy tale with the two older ladies carefully tending to the customers. 

Being situated in an old house, the shop consists of two main rooms, the front and the back. The back leads out to a garden as delightful as the shop itself. The well worn paths lead visitors through the herb beds which continue to delight both the eyes and the nose. The garden is a delight to wander through as every single bed contains a surprise. One may spot a small turtle statue or be delighted by a miniature table and chairs (surely left for the visiting fae-folk). A visitor may see a sign welcoming said fair folk as well as a tower of teapots reaching for the sky. There is also no shortage of seating from the gazebo, to the benches, to a giant tea-cup from a carnival ride. The house is worth a visit even on days when a dozen or more vendors have not journeyed to grace it with their presence. 

After paying for our tickets at the shop’s counter, my sister and I slipped onto the porch where we collected a small tea cup, a bag, a tea magazine and a schedule of the day’s events. The cup was to be used for sampling the teas offered at the various vendors – which is of course the main reason we journeyed an hour from home to the festival. There was a woman offering tea ceremonies in the garden, but we opted to skip it this year as we attended one at the festival the year before and attended one at the Japanese Gardens just outside of Philadelphia. Instead, my sister selected “A Dark History of Tea” from the lectures that were offered, noted the times and determined that we would start at the front and make our way back through. 

Our first destination did not actually have any tea samples, but rather was a creative display of artwork on tea bags of all things. I was amazed at the variety of pictures she was able to create incorporating the tea bags into the paintings. I was so smitten with them, my sister ended up buying one as a birthday present. 

We then got to the highlight of the festival, the tea tasting. Each vendor had a variety of samples to showcase some of their best teas. The first one we had was a very smooth oolong tea from Taiwan that was a delight for the tongue. We then took turns smelling different teas and sipping on more. We sampled teas from Napal, Hawaii, Africa, China and beyond. There were herbal teas, white teas, black teas and green teas. There were teas that were pure and teas that had herbal additions like the lemon butterscotch teas. There was a chocolate vendor for tea and chocolate pairings. I purchased various teas for my later personal use. 

We did attend the lecture on the dark history of tea and its connection to prostitution, opium, smuggling, poisoning, and slavery. It was a fascinating look at the history of international trade, commerce and greed. It was also a sad reflection that despite efforts at reform for the past 300 years, many of the problems that were prominent throughout the 1700’s, 1800’s and 1900’s are still going on today, if in different forms. The lecture did not get into how the issues in the tea industry can be seen in the fashion and chocolate industries, but my sister and I discussed it at lunch later. One of the things I enjoyed about the tea festival was that many of the vendors were from the countries that the teas were from. We were often speaking with direct representatives of the farmers rather than a corporate sales person several steps removed from the growing and processing of the product. We felt fairly confident that our teas were ethically sourced and free of adulterations and unhealthy additives. 

After a few hours of sipping teas and wandering around the festival, the caffeine did start to get to me. I was surprised because I am such a huge tea drinker even at home, but I typically do a cold brew which tends to have less caffeine. So my advice dear reader is to bring some snacks along to help with all the tea that you will be drinking, because after three hours of sipping on the delicious beverage, I was quite jittery. With our stash of tea fully replenished for the coming winter months, my sister and I made our way back into the shop for some final purchases. We then wandered back to the car to decide where we wanted to eat. After consulting google, we realized there was a Japanese place not a five minute’s walk from her car, so we left a few of our items behind and journeyed to the former bank now turned restaurant. 

If you happen to be in Mechanicsburg, dear reader, I recommend Kanagawa. It was a quiet, intimate place with polite and friendly staff who were attentive and conscientious. My sister and I choose the small plate of salmon teriyaki with extra vegetables. The vegetables were cooked to perfection with just the right amount of sauce. They were a nice variety of zucchini, onions, mushrooms, and broccoli. The salmon was delectable, practically melting in your mouth with every bite. My sister and I split the fried cheese cake, which was a rare treat for us both. It was a mouth watering delight that must be tasted to be properly appreciated. The outside was perfectly crunchy with just the right amount of chocolate sauce which covered the delicious inside. It was the perfect ending to the day. 

How can you attend a tea festival?

I am not entirely certain that tea festivals are exceedingly popular, but that is not to say that they don’t exist in your area. They certainly could! However, there are many popular festivals devoted to different foods and drinks. There may be a beer festival or a wine festival. In my area, I have seen a bacon festival being advertised which may be difficult to convince my non-pork eating sister to attend. If you’re passionate about a particular food or just enjoy eating, then go. You will discover all sorts of flavors you’ve never dreamed of. You may learn new culinary skills or interesting history you never knew about. It could deeper your appreciation for how we obtain our food and how to make more ethical decisions about your purchases. You may discover that you actually like certain foods you always hated. You could be introduced to different cultures or ways of thinking about the foods you eat. Either way, I highly recommend adding culinary adventures to your list. After all, we have to consume food every day just to survive, why not expand your pallet, widen your horizons and explore the world with a different sense than we usually think to use. 

Completed: Fall 2023

Cost: $10 per person for tickets and much more for all the tea I bought, which we won’t talk about here. I was weak and the tea was so delicious! In my defense I have like so much tea now, it will last me months. 

Miles from home: 51

Shhh, It’s a Secret: The Best Kept Secret of the Summer

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In the world before COVID, there was a growing tradition in my local city. A secret, invitation only pop-up party to kick off the summer season. One could only be invited. There was no ticket payment system or special way to get in. You simply reached out to have your name on a list. Then the list for invitees was opened and you could sign up to go (at least that is what happened the year I went and my sister went). Those in the know, knew how to find their way to this not well advertised gem. I heard about it through the grapevine, whispers in the community of such an event and with a little investigation, I found it.

Despite the location of the event being a closely held secret, the theme of the party was not. Fete en Blanc or Party in White was a premier event. Everyone, dressed up in white, brought their own picnic, wine, tables, chairs and table decorations to create the signature party of the summer. Courtesy of our hosts, they provided the decorations and music. You found yourself seated in a long row next to neighboring tables and just enjoying the spectacle. 

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Fete en Blanc is one of hundreds of white pop-up parties started in Paris in 1988. The theme has always been the same. No one knows where dinner will be until the last moment and everyone wears white. You bring your own table and chairs and until recently you provided your own food. The tradition has spread to hundreds of other cities around the world. Some of them do have a ticket fee. Some are more strict on what counts as white. Whereas many places will allow “pops” of color or off white, Philadelphia is a strict white only. It varies from place to place.

An army of volunteers helped to direct the crowd of people all overseen by an intrepid Master of Ceremonies to ensure all had a delightful time. The local park had been transformed into a magical world of floating spheres and twinkling lights. What made it special was precisely that it was not an event held only for those who could afford it. As tickets were free and by invite only, there was no monetary barrier to entry. As you were directed to sit wherever by the volunteers, one could easily find themselves shoulder to shoulder with Lancaster’s finest. Imagine what sort of friends one might make at such an event! 

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My sister and I did not have a table, so we spread ourselves out near the bottom of a tree. We enjoyed a spread of white wine, white cheese, white grapes, cauliflower and light crackers. After all, a party in white ought to have white food. However, me being myself, I could not resist just a small “pop” of  bright, pink color on my hat. I always did have to stand out in a crowd and besides, rules were made to be broken, darling! As we ate, a duo of drummers moved throughout the tables, their pops of color stark against the white of the crowd. Their enthusiasm was contagious and all to kick off the summer season!

After we ate, we meandered through the crowd taking in the different decorations that graced the tables. Those who were clearly experienced party goers had some truly elaborate displays in stark contrast to our simple set up. As the dusk settled, the atmosphere took on an almost dream-like quality. One could almost believe you had been transported into an in-between realm with the changing of the season. Was the veil between worlds just a little thin that night? Perhaps, it was the wine, perhaps it really was the magic of midsummer. 

We did not stay long into the night, both of us had work in the morning. So we packed up our small picnic and made our way out of the dream and back into reality. We were unable to snag tickets the following year in 2017 and in 2018, we determined we wanted to focus on new experiences rather than repeating ones we already had. Sadly, 2019, seems to have been the last year for Fete en Blanc at least for the Lancaster area. Covid came in 2020 canceling any plans for the event and I have not seen its return since. I hope to see its return one day as it was a truly special thing for our community. Perhaps with the advent of my new job I may have extra time on my hands and it is something I could organize here in my local community. It might be something to add to my list – throw a giant party for my community? What do you think dear reader?

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How can you experience a Fete en Blanc?

Well, as I said, our own local White Party does not seem to have returned after COVID, so if you happen to be in my area you will have to look further afield. If you do manage to locate one, be rest assured it is a difficult event to get into as most are lottery based given the demand for attendance typically overtakes the capacity of the given venue. In Paris, over 13,000 people may attend and they still do not have enough spaces for all the people who wish to go. Paris has a waitlist of over a million people and is considered one of the most exclusive dinner parties in the world. 

The copy-cats around the world are little different in terms of demand outpacing capacity. Almost all of them take place between May and September as a celebration of the summer and given that they occur all over the world, there is a very good chance you can find one in your area. Given the difficulty and exclusivity of such an event, you may dear reader feel a bit disheartened by the prospect of ever experiencing the spectacle yourself even if you are nearby. 

Now, what have we learned in such situations? When one cannot do a specific item, one can examine the principles and values of the experience. That is not to discourage you from throwing your hat in the ring and trying to get a coveted spot, after all most of the time it is a matter of throwing your name on a list and hoping your name is drawn. 

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In this case there are many festivals, events, parties and even secret going-ons that are occurring in your local community. One must merely be attuned to what might be happening around you. I found that the more I got out to do things the more things I found to do. Your friends and family start reaching out with cool ideas that might interest you for your next adventure. They start inviting you to things to do with them. Do you know the number of your friends and family who want to do things but have difficulty finding people to do things with? When you’re the person always going off and doing new things, you’re often the first person they call! 

I was not looking to do this party, I heard about it, signed up and snagged a coveted spot! I encourage you dear reader to get out and do! Soon enough you’ll be hearing about all the secrets your community has been hiding right under your nose! 

There is also another option. Given that all that is necessary is a venue, some music, white decor and a few friends, there is nothing to say that you can’t start your own Fete en Blanc tradition in your local community. Imagine being able to give a bucket list experience to not only yourself but your whole town as well? That’s how Lancaster got started and I hope to see its return soon.

Completed: June 2017

Miles from home: 11 

Cost: Free Invite – $30 for dinner supplies, I already had an entirely white outfit from my wardrobe

This is a list of all the major cities that hosted a Fete en Blanc in 2018 

Seattle, Washington

Memphis, Tennessee

Charlotte, North Carolina

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 

Wilmington, Delaware 

Chicago, Illinois 

Washington, D.C.

Baltimore, Maryland 

Honolulu, Hawaii 

Boston, Massachusetts 

Charleston, South Carolina 

Albuquerque, New Mexico 

Cincinnati, Ohio 

Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania 

Long Island, New York 

New York, New York

Indianapolis, Indiana 

Los Angeles, California 

Sacramento, California 

Atlanta, Georgia

Fort Lauderdale, Florida 

Orange County, California

San Diego, California 

Dallas, Texas 

Houston, Texas 

Miami, Florida 

Orlando, Florida 

Rochester, New York 

West Palm Beach, Florida 

A Macabre House of Oddities 

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You may be familiar, dear reader, with the traveling shows, carnivals and even houses of “oddities” of yesteryear. Those peddlers of myths and horror to fascinate and perhaps even, scandalize their audience. The most famous of which would have been P.T. Barnum’s, Barnum & Bailey Circus home to such attractions as Myrtle Corbin the Four Legged Woman (a woman born with two pelvises and four legs), Fedor Jeftichuw, The Dog Boy (an individual with hypertrichosis), Isaac Sprague, the Feejee mermaid (a small monkey glued to the tail of a large fish), and many more. Though the “freak show” has been around since the medieval era (and probably before) where crowds would gather to see humans with deformities, it wasn’t until the Victorian Era that they fully matured into a for profit exhibition. It was Barnum’s “Greatest Show on Earth” that truly brought it to the forefront of American culture. Though not all abnormalities were real and were actually made up for the purposes of the show. While freak shows and circuses were exploitative, some, like P. T. Barnum’s Circus did pay well and was (for the time) quite progressive in its treatment of its “human oddities”. 

Under brightly colored fabric and dazzling lights, crowds of spectators stared in amazement at the parade of “strangeness” before them. This was in a time before movies and colored photographs where one might see such things otherwise. It was certainly before commercial flight where far flung places such as Siam and Turkey were easily accessible. Certainly before the internet where one could fact check to see that, there was no missing Albanian prince who was raised in a harem and that woman he claims is 160 years old, is in fact only 80. I imagine quite a few left the shows believing they had seen something truly remarkable and perhaps even mythical. Is it any wonder this was the same era for seances and contacting the dead?

When perusing freak shows and museums of strangeness, visitors unfamiliar with taxidermy were easily fooled by the macabre art  of combining parts of different animals to support outlandish claims of myth come true such as the Jackalope. They may also display artifacts such as cursed monkey paws or pictures. As America expanded its colonization of the New World, so too did folk stories of the legendary creatures and strange happenings such as sasquatch or the vampires of New England. All adding to the idea that the world is truly far stranger than science can account for. 

For the most part it seems that over the years, such places have dwindled down. The circuses no longer showcase individuals with abnormalities for exploitation and with medical advancements many are able to be addressed to improve quality of life. Nor are abnormalities viewed with such suspicion and fear, but are increasingly welcomed as a part of life. Most of the oddities have been lost, destroyed or merely forgotten. Although there are a few small roadside attractions which have collected or perhaps re-created various pieces of history in the same spirit of P. T. Barnum who when accused of duping the public with hoaxes responded “I don’t believe in duping the public, but I believe in first attracting and then pleasing them.” So it made no difference to me if what I was looking at was truly the same pair of pants from Barnum’s giant or just a really large pair of pants. That’s part of the charm, it is a house of hoaxes. Perhaps, it is fun to pretend for a bit.

It was with this strange and controversial history in mind, that I went to the House of Oddities and Curious Goods in Elizabethtown, PA. This free museum was the beneficiary of a now closed down Gettysburg Dime Museum preserving Jo-Jo the Dog-Faced Boy (from P. T. Barnum’s circus) and Edgar the Alligator Man. The house certainly captures the odd mixture of barely contained horror and ridiculousness. Like almost all museums of this nature there is little rhyme or reason to the displays as everything is haphazardly squeezed together. Everywhere one looks there is a new, at times stomach churning, oddity as music reminiscent of the circuses of old plays in the background. 

It was a small place of barely two rooms, though the second room was more of a back hallway. Most of it were obvious hoaxes that at one time fascinated the public and led the more easily duped into belief that monsters truly do exist. There were a few genuine gems such as the alligators who had been deformed due to improper disposal of chemicals in the neighboring bayous. Some of the items had small paper “plaques” with explanations of what they were, but most were left to my imagination. I found most of it to be a strange mix of delight and eerie. It was truly like stepping into the beginning of a horror movie. The only thing missing was the creepy person offering to tell your fortune or to sell you some cursed object. Actually, there was a small offer to purchase some cursed objects at the front, but I kindly passed and instead put a small donation in the box (after all, one should probably avoid the ire of the owner of so many “cursed and powerful objects”). 

The museum was less a museum of true oddities and more an experiential museum of what people may have seen in decades past and how they thought of seemingly unexplainable phenomena. It was intriguing to see how people interpreted scant pieces of data and extrapolated it out as evidence for monsters. I wondered how many people walk away from it truly believing in what they see or if, like me, they find it a fascinating piece of living history of a time and phenomena of when such shows were taken seriously. Of a time when the world still held a hint of magic before all the maps were filled in and science explained most of what we experience. Do not get me wrong, I like living in the era I live in now, but we don’t have a must mystery as we once did. Still, I can now tell people I have beheld one of the legendary Giants of Lovelock Cave and a Wolpertinger! 

Ready for your own adventure into the macabre, mysterious and strange?

Obviously a google search of your local area would be easiest. However, it can be a bit difficult to know precisely what to google “freak show”, “museum” “house of oddities”, “curiosity house”. You may need to play around with the precise terms of your search as they are not (to my knowledge) the most popular of attractions. I have stumbled upon the site https://www.roadsideamerica.com which may be a good source for not only such places as these but also other fun attractions not readily advertised. I was surprised by the number of curiosity houses listed nearby that I had never heard of before. 

From Fire and Ash a Phoenix Rises: Firebird Festival in Phoenixville

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For the past twenty years a mysterious sight has unfolded in the midst of the winter’s cold. A community builds a giant wooden bird and then sets it on fire much to the delight of the spectators. And, dear reader, it is as awesome as it sounds. 

The Firebird Festival, was a dream of a Henrik Stubbe Teglbjaerg, an immigrant from Denmark who has resided in the States since the late 1980’s. He, with four other Phoenixville residents, came up with the idea, in part inspired by similar festivals of Europe where they build things and set it on fire. When he first arrived Phoenixville was a dreary little town. However, it started to revive itself, opening up a theater, art galleries, coffee house and it was as if there was a rebirth, a town rising up out of the ashes. So what could be a more perfect fit than to celebrate with the symbol of rebirth and the town’s own namesake? 

What is more is that each year, the ashes from the burned phoenix are taken and made into clay birds which are then placed inside the wooden bird. When set on fire, the wooden structure acts as a kiln, firing the birds and thus completing the cycle of last year’s bird when they are transformed into decorative pottery. 

What started as a small 150 person event has grown into a 20,000 person festival. Complete with food trucks, fire dancers, a parade, live music, and various wares for sale. It is a celebration of the town and the arts. But rather than relying on fancy performance artists most of the event is volunteer and community run which only speaks to the strength and spirit of the community, despite the growing size of the festival they have protected its heart as a grassroots events that remains untainted by the scale of the crowd. 

Most years, this event takes place in December just as the northern hemisphere enters its darkest stage and the year is coming to a close. However due to an unusually dry spell, the 2024 Firebird Festival was delayed as having a 20 foot wooden set aflame near exceedingly dry forest isn’t exactly the safest idea. Remember dear reader, as much as we all desire to check off our lists we want to make sure we live to check off the rest of our lists when doing so. 

This misfortune of weather was my opportunity. For you see, my sister and I typically celebrate the holiday season each year with our extended family on the second weekend of December. It so happens that the Firebird Festival also happens on that same weekend meaning that we are always previously engaged as the annual Holiday Feast has been a set date since before I was born. So when the organizers moved the Firebird Festival to the first weekend in February it became the must do event of the winter season. 

The new date was also fortuitous as it coincided with an ancient celebration of spring’s light returning. The ancient Celtic holiday of Imbolc was associated with the Celtic Goddess Brigid, the guardian of Hearth and Flame, a perfect pairing for the new date. The ancient holiday was a time of purification, renewal and preparation for the change in season. Fire rituals which honored the returning sun were frequently integrated into the Imbolc celebrations. It was celebrations like these which inspired the Firebird Festival in the first place making the new date perfect. 

As it happened, it was one of the coldest nights of the winter as arctic wind was carried down from the north freezing all that it touched with its icy fingers. Only a few days before the weather had been warm thawing out the ground and making it moist and muddy. Posts about the event warned celebrants of the potential for treacherous conditions on the field as the mud became slick and icy. 

My sister and I did our best to buddle up in preparation for the cold. I fared a bit better than her having a coat that mimicked a fur one, leather gloves lined with kashmir, thick socks and shoes with thick soles to keep out the cold. She had a rather old coat that she put several layers on beneath but the wind still managed to cut through the fabric and whisk away what warmth she had. As the Germans say “there is no bad weather, only bad clothing” and this was a prime example. I stayed pretty toasty throughout the evening but my poor sister struggled. Worry not, I often acted as a wind break once the crowd gathered. 

The festival occurs in two different places, the field where the bird is and downtown Phoenixville where most of the art events occur. After looking at the events and options, we determined that we wouldn’t arrive at 4 pm when the event started but rather closer to 5:30 pm to find parking, walk down to the field. That gave us about 21/2 – 2 hours before the bird was scheduled to be lit at 8 and the fire dancers would start their own performances around 6 (something else I’ve been wanting to see as part of my BucketList, maybe I’ll have to add Fire Dancing to the list now that I know I can volunteer to be one!) 

We followed the instructions for parking and managed to snag a great spot that was near enough to the field to make an easy walk in and out. It was a place that opened for parking after the official event time, I assume in part to help manage crowds. This made it a breeze to get to the Veterans Memorial Park where we were greeted by friendly volunteers who directed us into the event. They had buckets to collect donations which went to supporting it. When we got there we were a little surprised as the lackluster crowd as it seemed only a hundred people were milling about. There were a few food trucks and some tents set up. The band wasn’t playing yet and the sun was only just starting to set. We milled around looking at the different options and then decided to watch the Fire Dancers. We saw some people had chairs set up right at the center of the staging area but other than directly in front, the area was clear. We picked a spot to the left to watch and decided we’d take turns running to the food trucks. 

It felt a little paranoid to hold our spots when there were so few people, but as it turned out this was a crucial strategy because it seemed that within 15 minutes the crowd had tripled in size and the entire perimeter of the bird was lined with spectators enthralled by the fire dancers. Just as twilight fell, the arrived each with a unique costume and different types of instruments to move the flames about. They juggled, they moved around balls of fire, they twirled long lances and staves, they mimicked a bird with wing-like props, they used hoops of fire to make large circles. One wore a plaque mask, another looked like she came from the assassin’s creed, there were knights with shields and spears, there was a woman in a leopard catsuit. Some of the volunteers were better than others but all of them were mesmerizing in their own way as in the background a band played music. 

By the time the sky had gone dark, the crowd had ballooned behind us and we had to jostle our way to back to each other when we went for warm drinks or snacks. We nibbled on delicious food from a truck and sipped on warm apple cider available for purchase from some enthusiastic teens manning a volunteer tent. It seemed a little pricey for warm cider but the proceeds went to support the event and as it didn’t have an entry fee I was happy to pay a little more. The cider warmed my hands which had gotten cold from taking pictures of the fire dancers. 

As the appointed hour grew near, the crowd and the cold intensified. However, it was all great fun as we stood there making friends with the people behind us, chatting and laughing. We helped them hold a spot for their friend when she slipped out. Then around 7:45 the parade arrived. Headed by a giant pheonix of paper mache and cloth, the parade was host to more costumed revelers adorned with lights who danced to the beat of drums. Around the bird they circled to the cheers of the onlookers as the crowd only grew more excited in anticipation of the main event. 

Unfortunately, there seemed to be a bit of a delay as 8 pm came and went. Then 8:05, then 8:10, then 8:15, by the time 8:20 rolled around there were chants of “light the bird” which would be taken up and then die down after a minute or so. This went on for another 10 or 15 minutes until finally the torch bearers chosen by lottery were assembled and permitted to put torch to wood. At first, the flames barely licked up the wooden structure. It seemed as if the wind would snuff out the small fires struggling to find purchase against such icy conditions. How could such small flames survive? Would we be disappointed? 

No, the flames did not die. They continued their merry dance along the wooden structure, flickering brightly in the night. While it was a nice sight to see, it was hardly worth the nearly 3 hours in the freezing cold, perhaps we should pack it in, my sister suggested. I told her that I wanted to spend a little bit longer because we had been there so long and I wanted to enjoy it regardless. Then suddenly, conflagration! The whole thing was alight, the phoenix was finally truly lit. The heat pushed back the cold becoming almost more than we could bear even so far way. I pushed my hands out towards it drinking in the sudden heat. It was a glorious sight to behold as it was truly worthy of its name.It really did look like a mythical creature crackling in the cold night with the promise of the summer’s sun. We stood there enthralled by it, saying goodbye to the old and welcoming the new. 

How can you experience a Firebird Festival?

Obviously if you don’t live near Phoenixville attending this event won’t be cheap or easy and while it is certainly something I recommend if you’re in the area, it isn’t something I would plan an entire vacation around. However, there are lots of different local traditions and festivals throughout the country with their own unique and special. Florida is home to an Underwater Music Festival,  New Mexico has one dedicated to UFOs, Ohio is obsessed with Duck Tape and Washington State hosts a Kite Festival and there are many more. With some searching, you’re almost certain to find a quirky festival near you. Many of these festivals take place in the Spring and Summer months so now is the perfect time to look around your wider area for fun and interesting events.

What’s awesome is that the story of the Firebird Festival demonstrates that it only takes a few people gathering together to make something amazing. It started off as 4 friends getting together, building a small phoenix and setting it alight for 150 people. It has ballooned into an event that attracts thousands each winter. Your own event doesn’t have to be this “big thing” and there’s nothing to stop you from starting your own tradition! Don’t worry about a 20 year commitment though, as once it takes off there will be people to pass the torch to (pun very much intended). 

Small disclaimer:

Technically, there are things that can stop you from starting your own tradition. Local ordinances may prohibit you from doing certain activities like setting things on fire and I really don’t recommend that you do that if you live out in places that a prone to wildfires. I don’t want this blog to be in the news because after reading this, you decided to start your own firebird festival and set the state of California on fire. So as always check your local ordinances and use common sense before trying something you read online.

Cost: Free

Miles from home: 50

Water Lantern: A Festival of Reflection 

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It was a warm summer evening, when my sister and I embarked on a journey to the far east or rather to partake in some food and traditions imported from Asia to the United States. This particular evening, we were attended a Water Lantern Festival. One of the amazing things about America is our immigrant roots, welcoming people from across the globe. These people come and bring with them their culture, traditions, beliefs, music and cuisines. It is what makes America a rich, cultural tapestry of endless variety.

We began our journey by stopping at a Thai restaurant which is owned and operated by Thai people. I always get excited when I can stop at places owned by people who intimately understand the cuisine they are cooking, whether that be because they are originally from there, have family originally from there or spent enough time in careful study to obtain a level of mastery in the authentic way the cuisine ought to be prepared. As someone who doesn’t necessarily have the money to hop on a plane to experience authentic Thai food, I appreciated the opportunity and the culinary skill of the chef. Dinner was a delicious red curry, since I cannot resist a menu item with Thai Basil and my sister had their drunken noodles of which I stole a few bites. 

After dinner, we headed over to Harrisburg to the Italian garden where the Water Lantern Fest would be held. The Italian garden is beautiful in its own right, but it was extra festive for the fest and the weather proved to be perfect. It wasn’t too hot, nor was it chilly. The blue sky was clear overhead and it promised to be a lovely evening. It took us a little time to locate the actual stand to obtain the water lanterns as the park was open for all to enjoy. We did eventually find the true “entrance” to the fest by asking some people for directions and headed up the hill to obtain our goodie bags and lanterns. After claiming our prizes, we walked around the end of the manmade lake to find a good spot under the shade of a tree. 

I had attended a lantern fest before, where you release lanterns into the sky which took on a more party atmosphere for the people attending with music and bounce houses, bonfires and food trucks. This one had most of those things tucked away from the main event so that you could still enjoy vendors, food and other activities, but it did not distract from what you were there to do.  Nor was the crowd quite as big as at the Lantern Fest which was just as well, since I tend to favor smaller events to the massive crowds. What I enjoyed about this one was the more subdued and even reflective atmosphere. Flags proudly proclaimed things like gratitude, healing, love and connection, encouraging you to reflect rather than party. The crowd was fairly quiet with many people conversing with their heads together, smiling and laughing. The goodie bag even included conversation cards with prompts to start deeper discussions with the people you were with in order to foster deeper connections. My sister and I were delighted by these and have taken them out at other occasions and have found them to be great at prompting conversations. 

The kit for the lantern included a wooden base, a lantern which could be written upon and a small led candle to turn on and place in the lantern. We noted that most of the lantern components could be reused, recycled or easily be broken down in the environment. Being a manmade lake, the lanterns were in no danger of polluting local waterways or interfering with native wildlife. In addition, the event organizer One World proudly supports water.org. Water.org is an organization which focuses on increasing global access to safe drinking water. They include an informational pamphlet and easy options to donate to raise money to support this cause. I love it when an event is able to go beyond just an enjoyable evening and helps to provide a positive impact.

I decorated my lantern with things that I was grateful for and my sister decorated hers with art including a celtic knot and a flowers. Once the sun slipped beneath the horizon, they asked us to gather around the edges of the lake and to pause for reflection. Then they invited us to release our lanterns to allow them to float upon the water. One by one, they spread out, glittering together like stars. As I stepped back to take in the sight, I was able to let out a deep sigh of contentment. Naturally, we snapped a few photos, but mostly my sister and I just walked along the path enjoying the sight and quietly conversing. 

It should be noted that while my dinner was still firmly rooted in its culture of origin, the Water Lantern Fest was less so. Water Lamps originated in India and spread throughout Asia most likely through Buddhist diffusion. They appear in many festivals and have many meanings ranging from worshiping gods, praying for a good marriage, welcoming happiness, guiding the spirits of the departed or welcoming happiness. In Vietnam, there is a town which releases them quite frequently. In China, they are released throughout the year. In Japan, they usually release them to help guide the souls of the dead to the spirit world and allows for reflection for lost loved ones. Sometimes, things are lost in translation especially as it gets diffused across different cultures as it has in Asia since they have a lot of different meanings all over the continent.

Still, despite being a bit unmoored from its roots, it still felt as if it were in the spirit of the original customs. Where other events encourage a sort of frantic, frenanic frenzy of activity, this festival invited you to slow down, to pause and reflect. It encouraged building relationships between people and being more mindful of your surroundings. They also allowed people to come up to a microphone and share their stories. Some people shared their loss, others shared their victories, whereas others shared gratitude. There were lanterns that people dedicated to their loved ones. In a sense, the festival was a melting pot of the many traditions associated with water lanterns from Asia and transforming into something uniquely American. It certainly was not an authentic experience, but it falls under my “good enough” category. 

How can you experience a Water Lantern Fest?

The best way is to go to their website WaterLanternFestival.com and click on your state to see when they might be coming to you. I encourage you to buy tickets early since they increase in price as the date approaches. 

However, there is nothing to stop you from ordering some lanterns and LED candles and hosting your own smaller version with a group of friends. Although, it doesn’t quite hold a candle (pun intended) to seeing a few hundred floating all together, their reflections shimmering in the darkness of the water. It is also important to note that there may be local ordinances preventing such an activity and you would need to ensure proper clean up. After all, we want to keep our local environments beautiful so we can continue to enjoy it for years to come.

Completed: July 15, 2023

Cost: $36 per person (was advertised as $27 but there were vendor fees)

Miles from home: 45 

Ocean Dreams

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As a native of Pennsylvania, I am relatively close to the coast meaning that a trip to the beach can be an easy day trip. It’s about 2 to 3 hours away depending on whether I want to enjoy a direct ocean front of the Jersey shore or a salt-water bay in Delaware and traffic. This means that I grew up going to the beach, not every summer but with enough frequency for it to seem like a fairly common experience. 

However, if you dear reader have never been to the ocean it’s rather difficult to explain in words the sheer vastness that one is faced with when standing upon the shore. Yes, I have certainly spent time on the shore of a lake and enjoyed swimming in them, but most of them do not hold the same awe as the ocean. The sound of the water echoes miles inland. The power of the waves striking the shore push and pull you alternatively, sometimes rushing in with such force it pushes you forward or even down beneath the surface. Sometimes the pull of the water is just as powerful, ripping you from the safety of the shallow water, dragging you out towards the depths, in the infamous rip tides. To stand at the shoreline of the ocean is to stand at the precipice of nature’s power. 

The only other body of water that held the same primal awe for me, was Lake Superior when the strength of the November winds proved too treacherous for even the most stalwart of ships to traverse. Perhaps, the Great Lakes are the only bodies of water to truly rival the ocean in terms of power and danger. 

Yet, despite the sheer awesome force that is the ocean, even with its dangers lurking just below the surface, a day at the beach is one that I look forward to. I have many fond memories of being packed up into the car and driven to the beaches of Delaware or New Jersey. The water is not the crystal blue featured on postcards from the topics, but instead may range in color from gray, to navy, to even a sort of olive green depending on the weather and time of year. 

I have spent many long hours diving into the waves, letting them take me as they will either towards or away from the shore. I have pushed and challenged myself against the ocean’s might fighting both against its power. There was something satisfying in defying the fury of the waves. It was also just plain fun to let myself be battered about, the thrill of the sheer force behind the ebb and flow of the ocean’s waves. I have tried my hand at bodyboarding to some success, but, as of this writing, I’ve never gotten to surfboard – it’s on the list.

When I was not deep in the waters, I would walk along the shore line enjoying the playful echoes of the more powerful wave which swirled about my ankles bringing in and revealing seashells. When one would catch my eye, I’d bend down and pick them up admiring the jewels of the sea. Although, I encourage you dear reader to leave the shells be or at least only take the choicest ones for I have since learned that our obsession with shell collection has had a detrimental effect on the shoreline. It is far better to take pictures and leave the shells behind or only take a very few if you absolutely must.  

I have certainly taken the time to build sandcastles and make sculptures from the sand. I have enjoyed the boardwalks snacking on popcorn, devouring ice cream and taking in the ongoing carnival just off the shore. Although, one of my favorite activities is honestly, taking a low sitting chair, positioning myself in among the waves and reading a good book. I love listening to the sound of the waves as I read and to feel the gentle caress of the waves against my legs. 

As an adult, I will typically spend the morning wading in the shallows and swimming in the deeper waters until the sun begins to beat down oppressively. After enjoying a picnic of whatever food I’ve packed, I pull out my book position myself in the water and start to read under the shade of my umbrella. After an hour or so, I will go for a long stroll along the shore line, keeping my path to where the sand and water meet, splashing in the waves as they swirl about my ankels, scouring the landscape for the choicest of shells until I begin to tire. When I return to my umbrella, I read more and then it’s back into the water I go. I may keep up the pattern of reading and swimming for several more hours until the sun begins to get low in the sky and I know that I should probably head home. A handful of times, I have stayed long enough to witness a sunset and linger until it was dark. That was usually when I was spending more than a day. 

I have gotten the chance to enjoy beaches in various parts of the world, the north Atlantic, the Mediterranean and the Caribbean. I had spent a week in Rome and so one of the days, I decided to take the train over to the Mediterranean with my friend Erica and her friend Danielle. The three of us happened to make fast friends with two other American families who were also visiting Rome with their children. As it turned out they were two military families who took it upon themselves to ensure that the three young American women were taken care of. The three groups took turns watching one another’s items which allowed us to fully enjoy the ocean even with the advisory in place to be careful in the water. The men ensured that we were watched and safe the entire time. I am truly grateful to those service members who saw our protection as an extension of their duties even when not on official military business. The beaches of Rome were not all that different than the beaches of North America. The ocean’s color was almost the same and it carried similar risks. 

The beaches of the caribbean were similar but in many ways different. The biggest difference was of course the color. The water was crystal clear allowing me to see the tiny fish swimming in the shallows. Farther out the color was a bright, blue rather than the grayish tones of the north. The waves were gentle, almost lapping against the shoreline rather than crashing into it. Of course, the vegetarian was also different. The northern climates is populated with shrubs and tall grasses jutting out of the sand, whereas the southern climates enjoyed towering palm trees which provided shade against the harsh sun. I would not say it was necessarily better or even vastly different, but it was a gentler experience. I can certainly understand the appeal of the calm, crystal clear waters. 

Perhaps, it is my own more gothic nature, that I find myself drawn more to the wild oceans of the north over the calmer, gentler seas of the south. Give me the rough, rugged and untamed seas with their biting winds and frigid, gray waters. I do so enjoy a dark sky and a cool ocean as the perfect backdrop. Fall is probably one of my favorite times to visit, when the crowds of summer have dissipated and the weather starts to have a bit of a bite to it. I don’t mind needing a blanket to curl up under against the winds. I also enjoy the early spring, when the sea is still wild from the winter and the water carries winter’s sharp sting. Whatever the time of year or the weather, I do simply enjoy the ocean. A day on its shore is always relaxing and a bit exciting. 

How can you enjoy a day at the beach?

Obviously, if you are along the coast line, spending a day at the beach is relatively easy. Many public beaches are free or have only a minimal fee for parking. As hard as it is for me to believe, I have met people who despite living within a 2 to 3 hour drive of the coast have never been. By all means if you do live within a day’s drive, take some time to enjoy the coastline. As I wrote above, the shore does not even need to be enjoyed during the peak season. I found my favorite times to go were in the spring and fall during the off season when the crowds were lessened. If you go in the fall, the water will most likely still be warm from the summer, but the colder water can be exhilarating in its own right. 

If you are not near the coast line, there are of course lakes for you to visit. Although, I will say a day at a lake is quite different than a day at the shore with few exceptions. However, it is not so different that you cannot enjoy similar activities. Each person is different and may find different thresholds for meaningful differences than I do. To me at a certain point, a beach is a beach whether that is in the North Atlantic or Caribbean. To others, there may be such a vast difference between the two kinds of beaches as to warrant the necessity of visiting one or the other. It was my general feeling that at a certain point a beach is a beach which led me not to want to spend too many days at tropical beaches when in the Caribbean and South America. As it turns out, I am actually more fond of northern beaches anyways. I absolutely loved the beach in Cornwall and it was in the middle of February when we went.

As always, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. You, dear reader, may decide that a day at the lake is equal to a day at the beach. You may also decide that you want to check off tropical beach rather than any old beach. To that, I say, tack on a beach day to a trip if you can. If like me when staying in Rome, you’re spending a week somewhere and you can easily access a beach, then take the time to visit the shore. I do not regret spending the day in the Mediterranean. It was a lovely day to relax and recover from trekking all over the city. 

Completed: childhood 

Cost: Gas money and a packed picnic ($100) 

Miles from home: Nearest 135 miles to nearest beach (approximately 3 hours)

Did I visit a Botanical Garden or Paradise?

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The title is a slight exaggeration, but I think the comparison is apt. After all, in three of the world’s major monotheistic religions, paradise is a garden. 

So, what exactly is a botanical garden? Aside from being a beautiful place to wander around in quiet contemplation, botanical gardens are gardens with a documented collection of plants for the purposes of scientific research, education, conservation and display. They feature the botanical names of the plants. Hence the name botanical garden – not necessarily the cleverest of names, but it certainly gets the job done. 

Some of my earliest memories consist of gardening. Lacking cable, one of my favorite pastimes was actually watching “The Digging Show” or my parents gardening. I loved spending time among the plants and the flowers learning their names, cataloging their color, inhaling their scents and at times nibbling upon them. I quite enjoyed the various herbs and was quite familiar with which ones were safe for me to consume and which ones were best avoided. I spent many hours going to various nurseries. As my parents shopped, they became my playgrounds. Not that I disturbed the merchandise (I had been taught to look not to touch), but I still explored, searching out new plants and finding the statutory and other garden decor scattered about. Our garden was huge and well known in the neighborhood as one of the best. We even had a photographer request to come and take photographs of our garden. 

It should come as no surprise then, that I love going to botanical gardens to stroll among the flowers and greenery. Each one is so different which only serves to highlight the vast biodiversity of our planet where no two gardens are alike. Some focus on specific areas while others span ecosystems throughout the planet. No matter what I always find a bit of wonder in them as I am taken in by the majestic blooms and vibrant hues of the leaves. I’ve seen giant lilly pads and a huge array of orchids. I have been overpowered by the sweet scent of roses and delighted by the scent of apple blossoms.

The architecture of these gardens are often a highlight as well featuring delicate archways and imposing pillars. Many of the gardens have various fountains and waterways snaking through them. They may even have plunging waterfalls. Longwood Gardens in particular is known for its spectacular water show which is predominately displayed in the center of the gardens. However, it is also home to more humble buildings, small wooden cottages or small towers tucked away in forested areas.  To traverse the gardens is to move from landscape to landscape each with its own unique take on what makes a garden. There are times when the juxtaposition of the two can almost seem jarring as one moves from one area to the next as if the doorways themselves are portals to between worlds. 

Each world is a delight to the senses and one hardly notices the passage of time or the encroaching heat of a warm day or the way the chill of a winter begins to seep its way into your bones on those cooler days. In all seasons, the gardens offer something new as they are always changing with the pattern of the year. It means there is never a bad time to visit and one can visit quite often as there is always a shift. What was in bloom only a few weeks ago may have faded and a new plant has come to take its turn in the spotlight. The gardens can be enjoyed both in quiet solitude or with a group of friends. 

I find that day among the plants and flowers is as refreshing as a day at the spa. A connection to nature is an important part of mental health. Time outdoors helps to reduce stress and anxiety. Fresh air is also correlated with increased physical health. Exposure to nature is associated with better cognitive function. Certainly spending time in such oxygen rich environments is good for your lungs when we spend so much of our time inside. So yes, it can certainly feel like one has discovered a small slice of paradise when visiting as the stress of the outside world begins to melt away. I certainly envision heaven as a botanical garden, populated with cats of course, with ready access to a vast library of books and tea. 

How can you visit your own slice of paradise?

Luckily, botanical gardens are found throughout the country and indeed the world, so finding one should be relatively simple. I recommend wearing comfortable walking shoes and to pick a day when the weather is particularly good. You will most likely want to bring some water as they are often deceptive in size – they are always bigger than you anticipate. Armed with proper hydration and shoes, you will ensure that your beautiful garden experience doesn’t become hellish. 

Completed: First completed in childhood in a visit to Longwood Gardens

Cost: $32 per person (can vary depending on time of year)

Miles from home: 45 miles from home

I have also visited other gardens throughout the country as I am always up for visiting a garden.