Virtual lectures offered by the New York Adventure Club

I started watching the virtual lectures (webinars) offered by the New York Adventure Club during the pandemic of 2020. They were a good way to pass the time, to learn something new, and to connect with others who were interested in the same topics. I've continued to watch a few of them since then and have been quite satisfied with the quality of both the lecturers and the material they present. Some of the outstanding talks have been about the Gilded Age of NYC and the mansions from that time, or about the famous parks and tourist attractions of NYC (the lecture about Fort Tryon Park and the Cloisters in upper Manhattan comes to mind--Fort Tryon Park, From The Cloisters to Former Gilded Age Estate). I've also watched a talk about the history of City Island (City Island: The "Cape Cod" of New York City) that was fascinating, as well as one about the history of Grand Central Station in Manhattan (Grand Central Terminal and the Secrets Within). Today I watched one of the best talks so far--Samuel Untermyer: Life, Legacy, and Famed Gilded Age Gardens--about the life of Samuel Untermyer, a prominent lawyer and civic leader who was responsible for the creation of magnificent gardens at his Greystone estate in Yonkers on the banks of the Hudson River. He willed it to the city of Yonkers after his death, but it fell into disrepair and was mostly abandoned for many years before the Untermyer Gardens Conservancy, in collaboration with the city of Yonkers, began to restore Untermyer Park and Gardens to its original splendor. The president of the Conservancy is Stephen F. Byrns, who founded the Conservancy in 2011; he is the one who held the talk today and he did an excellent job. I've visited Untermyer Park and Gardens several times since 2019, and it is being lovingly restored. It's a beautiful place, and my only hope is that it will tolerate the eventual increase in the numbers of tourists who will discover this pearl of a garden. At present admission is free; I can truthfully say that I wouldn't mind paying an entrance fee to cover maintenance costs. I've written a couple of posts about my visits to Untermyer Park and Gardens: A New Yorker in Oslo: Untermyer park and gardens (paulamdeangelis.blogspot.com) and A New Yorker in Oslo: Two gardens worth visiting--Untermyer Gardens and the New York Botanical Garden (paulamdeangelis.blogspot.com). If you'd like to check out the garden website, here is the link: Untermyer Gardens Conservancy - Home

I recommend checking out the New York Adventure Club: Insider Access to NYC Events and Best-Kept Secrets | New York Adventure Club (nyadventureclub.com). Their virtual lectures are not expensive and are worth the money if you want to know more about New York City and New York State. I just registered for a new webinar: The Erie Canal: A Story of Building the Impossible, to which I am looking forward, as I have always wanted to visit it. I hope I get the chance to see it in person. 

Back in New York City

It takes a while, but I do get used to this noisy, pulsating, crowded city again after a day or two. I cannot believe that I worked in Manhattan for seven years before I moved to Norway. I commuted by bus and subway each day into and out of Manhattan from the New Brunswick area of New Jersey. I remember clearly that I had a routine and knew all the shortcuts--how to get around the always-present crowds--and if I drove my car on chance occasions, I knew which shortcuts to use to get me more quickly across Central Park over to the East side (York Avenue) where I used to work.

I can't say that I miss the city, but it is a part of me. What I do like here is the diversity of people--the heterogeneity; people of all races and from all walks of life. It truly is a melting pot, and it all seems to work for the most part. What struck me this morning when I ate breakfast at Starbucks, is how many people held the entrance doors open for other people. How polite, and nice to see. And last night I went to mass at St. Malachy's Church on West 49th street; not only was the mass a good experience, but we sang songs that I haven't sung in ages (probably not since I was a teenager). So that by itself was nice, and just what I needed after a long day.

And of course there are the men hawking their wares on the sidewalks, as well as begging. New York City wouldn't be the same without them. One of them stopped me right around the corner from the church, and asked me for money to buy a milkshake at McDonalds. I had just been inside to purchase a large Coke, so I offered him my Coke, but he wanted a milkshake instead. I had to smile, as he told me that he had craved a milkshake all day. So what to do but give him the money to buy his milkshake. It's little moments like those that make me remember that the world is not, and never will be, perfect. There will always be those who have less (or nothing) than others, and those who have way more than they will ever need or use. The priest last night spoke about generosity; about giving even if you don't feel you have enough to give. It's the giving that counts, not the amount (of money, time, listening, caring) given. It's a generous heart that matters most. New York City is a reminder of that and so much more. I'm glad I don't work in the city anymore, but I am glad for the reminders that this city gives me to remain awake and open to the people around me.

Summer memories

As promised, photos of my recent trip to New York, Maryland and Virginia. As I was going through my photos, I realized once again how lovely my country is. The order of the photos follows the timeline in my previous post, Summer Moments in New York, Maryland and Virginia. Enjoy.

 

one of two reflecting pools at the Memorial site

The Survivor Pear Tree 

The new One World Trade Center

New Jersey skyline

The North Cove Marina in NYC

view of surrounding area in Gambrill State Park, Maryland

Hunting Creek Lake in Catoctin Mountain Park, Maryland

Hunting Creek Lake

A marsh in north Virginia--photo taken through train window

approaching New York City---photo taken through train window

New York City--photo taken from train

Garrison, New York, on the Hudson River

Garrison, NY

Guinan's Pub (the subject of Gwendolyn Bounds wonderful book 'Little Chapel on the River') in Garrison

Jim Guinan, owner of the pub, passed away in 2009

view of West Point across the river from Guinan's pub

the lovely Hudson River, facing north from the walkway

view of the Hudson River facing south from the walkway

Summer moments in New York, Maryland and Virginia

I returned to Oslo last week after a wonderful vacation in the USA, where I visited the states of New York, Maryland and Virginia. As always, my trip was full of wonderful moments, all a part of my visits with my good friends and family. I did a lot of traveling on this trip; I arrived in Newark New Jersey by plane on a Thursday afternoon and spent Thursday and Friday with my friend Gisele in Manhattan. We visited the National September 11 Memorial, located at the sites of the 9/11 attacks on the Twin Towers. It was a very moving experience. On our way out of the site, we stopped in the gift store and I bought a book called ‘The Survivor Tree’, about the callery pear tree that survived the 9/11 attacks despite suffering extensive damage and burns, and was replanted at the Memorial site in December 2010. We got a chance to see this tree on the site; it has branched and grown quite high. One of the tourist guides told us that it is the only tree in which the birds will nest. I bought the book because it will be a positive reminder of a tree that symbolizes strength, hope and survival; something sorely needed in the midst of the sorrow and personal tragedies that the memorial site honors and asks us to remember. Afterward, we walked through Battery Park and up along the Esplanade (west side of Manhattan), where we had lunch at the Merchants River House restaurant. We then walked north as far as Vesey Street and then took a subway back to the Hilton Hotel in midtown. It was a beautiful day in Manhattan, and I shot some lovely photos of the boats sailing on the Hudson River, as well as some night photos of the hotel and the surrounding area. New York City at night is always a photographic adventure—the colors, the lighting, the digital effects.

On Saturday, I took the Vamoose bus from Penn Station to Bethesda Maryland to visit my cousin Karen and her husband Naj who live in Potomac. The Vamoose bus is the cheapest way to get to the Washington DC area and I recommend it; the wi-fi on board worked very well and the bus made one pit stop during the four hour trip. Karen, Naj and I spent Saturday talking and catching up; on Sunday, we decided to hike in Gambrill State Park, a lovely mountain park located on the ridge of the Catoctin Mountains in Frederick County. After hiking we ate a delicious brunch buffet at The Cozy Inn & Restaurant in Thurmont Maryland, not far from the presidential retreat Camp David. The inn has an interesting history, having been visited by a number of presidents through the years, understandably a source of pride for its owners. Maryland is a beautiful state, with lush green forests and meadows; this was reinforced for me when I took the Amtrak train further south (from Washington DC) to Williamsburg Virginia to visit my sister Renata and her husband Tim (from Monday until Wednesday). The train passed through some amazingly beautiful rural areas and marshes in Maryland and Virginia on its way to Williamsburg. My sister picked me up there and we drove to their home in Poquoson (not far from the ocean), where they were living up until this past week. We had a very nice time hanging out, watching movies, talking, eating and laughing. Their dog Dale ended up with his head in my lap while we were watching movies; this kind of trust from a dog that has been reasonably skeptical to having me around on previous visits. I also had an early morning visitor in the form of their cat Sugar, who spent one hour with her head in my armpit, sleeping and purring. I have not spent much time in Virginia; I remember that we may have visited Virginia on a family vacation long ago when we were children, but details of that trip are mostly forgotten. In any case, it too is a lovely state from the little of it I got to see.

I returned to Manhattan by Amtrak train (an eight hour trip) from Williamsburg on Wednesday; I thought I might go stir crazy sitting all that time but the trip went surprisingly well. Of course I had my iPad with my Kindle books, music and Candy Crush game to keep me occupied. Again, the onboard wi-fi worked well and I was able to write and send some emails as well. So time passed fairly quickly. I was however quite tired by the time the train arrived at Penn Station in Manhattan, and I still had to get to Grand Central Station, where I boarded yet another train to take me to Peekskill. My friend Jean picked me up there, and from then on I was in upstate New York, in Cortland Manor where she lives and where I love being, until I left to return to Oslo the following Monday. Thursday found us in Sleepy Hollow, first to have lunch with my brother Ray and his children (my niece Tamar and nephew Eli), and then to visit the cemetery where our parents are buried. Our friend Maria joined us on Friday, and we hung around, talked, laughed, ate, watched a movie, went to see Menopause the Musical (quite funny), went to her nieces’ birthday party for cake and coffee, then to hear her brother Jim and his three sons play good ol’ rock and roll in their band Crucible (the youngest son, Dean, is fourteen years old and an unbelievable drummer). We also managed a trip to the Garrison train station so that I could see Guinan’s Pub (now closed) which is situated right behind the train platform on the river side. It was the subject of Gwendolyn Bounds wonderful book Little Chapel on the River (I wrote about this book in a March 2013 post---http://paulamdeangelis.blogspot.no/2013/03/reading-about-and-remembering-hudson.html). Someone had written on the pub’s green door—R.I.P., referring to the owner Jim Guinan who passed away in 2009. I took some photos of the pub, and took a long look inside through the dusty windows. The bar has long since been emptied of inventory and furniture, but I could ‘see’ how it must have looked in its heyday. If you walk down to the Hudson River from the pub and look across to the other side of the river, you can see West Point; it reminded me of the parts of the book about the West Point cadets who sneaked across the river in order to visit the pub and have a beer or two. 

On Sunday, another sunny blue-sky summer day, we drove to Poughkeepsie and walked across the Hudson River on the old Poughkeepsie-Highland Railroad Bridge that was converted to a pedestrian footbridge and opened in 2009 as The Walkway over the Hudson (http://www.walkway.org/, and http://nysparks.com/parks/178/details.aspx). It is the longest footbridge in the world, according to Wikipedia, about 1.28 miles long. A very nice walk, with signs hung up along the bridge with interesting information about its history, the turbidity and pH of the Hudson River at different locations, the bird life in the area, and so on. As we stood on the bridge facing north, we could see and hear the freight trains passing on the Highland side of the river, but we were not sure where they ended up. Each time I am in the vicinity of the Hudson River, it hooks me, and I want to explore it more, hopefully with them. I decided then and there that on future visits to New York, I want to do the Hudson River Walk as well as to take a boat ride up along the Hudson River. This river is in my blood, I grew up in a small town on its banks, and its history continues to fascinate me.

My friends and I always manage to do a lot of interesting things in the time we have together, and it's always enjoyable because we are doing those things together. And the same goes for my family too. I only wish I could spend more time with everyone. That will come to pass next summer, God willing. I will be posting some photos of this trip in my next post.

The unbelievable storm

I was up until 4 am Oslo time last night watching super storm Sandy make landfall on the eastern coast of the USA. It chose the area around Atlantic City as its entrance, and the video footage of the Atlantic Ocean pouring into this casino city was just unbelievable to watch. The Atlantic Ocean has never been the enemy before. Not until last night. Watching it flood these coastal towns was kind of like watching a mini tsunami—scary, unbelievable and fascinating at the same time. I can understand why people want to get close to the fury of a storm to film what it does to everything in its path, but you would have been completely foolhardy to have done so yesterday. I’ve been in Atlantic City, walked along its boardwalk, and enjoyed its shopping and luxurious hotels. Last night it did not look luxurious at all. It made me sad to see the destruction, as it did to see the flooding and destruction in Manhattan and Queens. This is not supposed to happen in these areas. But it did. The monster storm from hell made sure that we will not take anything for granted ever again, not where nature is concerned.

I grew up in Tarrytown, a lovely little town on the Hudson River, about a thirty-minute train ride north of Manhattan. In all the years I lived there, I cannot remember this type of storm occurring. Yes, there were intense storms, with resultant minor flooding here and there. I can remember the Saw Mill River and Bronx River Parkways being flooded and becoming impassable. Once I tried to drive through one of those parkway floods with my car, but had to back out of it as I could not steer my way through it. Luckily I managed to back out of it; not everyone was so fortunate. I was together with a friend of mine; we were commuting home from college that day. Water seeped into my car through the doors, and we had to bail out pails of water from the car afterward. It was a stupid decision on my part to attempt to drive through the rising water, and I learned an important lesson that day for the future about not taking unnecessary risks. But in Tarrytown (and other Hudson River towns) yesterday, there was unprecedented flooding. The Hudson River rose higher and higher due to the storm surge further south. Boats floated inland, having broken free of their moorings. In the town of Ossining, a few miles north of Tarrytown, a boat floated onto the railroad tracks, blocking passage in both directions. The pictures tell the story—proof that the unbelievable happened. I am including two links to online storm photos here. I am sad to see the destruction and flooding, and only hope that most people have come through the storm safely. http://www.businessinsider.com/at-least-16-dead-75-million-without-power--heres-what-hurricane-sandys-destruction-looks-like-photos-2012-10?0=bi

and

http://www.flickr.com/photos/mtaphotos/8138916414/

The promise of summer

I could just as well have entitled this post ’a taste of summer’. Either way, you’ll understand what I mean about fleeting glimpses of summer—those tantalizing warm sunny days that lead you to believe that real summer is right around the corner. But somehow real summer never materializes. That has been the summer experience in Oslo this year. Perhaps it is more correct to say that summer (as most of us define it—sunny and warm days) came and went in May, which had some wonderfully warm summer-like days (in fact, I wrote a post at that time called The Smells of Summer: http://paulamdeangelis.blogspot.no/2012/05/smells-of-summer.html). May was followed by two months of gray skies and rain. Temperatures have hovered around sixty degrees Fahrenheit since then. Summer has been struggling futilely to return. And then, it happened. Today is a real summer day. Yesterday was also a real summer day. Tomorrow is predicted to be a real summer day. I’ll believe it when I see it. I trust nothing and no one, not the clear night sky of tonight, not the balmy night temperature, not the golden moon, not weather reporters, and least of all the newspapers that are constantly telling us that ‘summer is finally here’. No, it’s not (well maybe it will be for the rest of August—hope springs eternal. I’m not a pessimist). Real summer is what I just experienced for ten glorious days in New York. So hot (temperatures hovering around 90 degrees Fahrenheit) that it feels like the heat is rising up from the street pavements, so hot that you have to throw off the bed sheets at night, even though the ceiling fan is on (can’t run the air-conditioners 24/7—the electric bills would be out of sight). So hot that my friend’s terrace is too hot to walk on in my bare feet. So hot that you think about running through the sprinkler that is watering the plants that need the water more than we do. But I am not complaining. My friends complained about the heat. The New York media reported and complained about the heat. Not me. I savored every chance I got to soak in the sun’s warmth and the summer’s heat and humidity. I walked when others drove their air-conditioned cars, although I enjoyed the a/c too, don’t misunderstand me. I had my water bottle with me on my walks and sipped it when I got thirsty. I rested when I got tired. That’s what the heat forces you to do—slow down. You can do everything you normally do, just at a slower pace. And really, what’s wrong with that? I took the train into Manhattan from Irvington, and sat on the platform benches waiting for the train, breathing in the smell of the wooden platform and the tracks. I see what I never saw before, because now I am a tourist in my home state, and I get to appreciate what I took for granted before when I was younger and lived there. I never get over how beautiful New York State is during the summer months. It doesn’t matter if I am upstate (in Tarrytown, Cortlandt Manor, Albany, or Pine Bush) or in New York City. New York is a beautiful state; it has the Hudson River, the lovely Hudson River towns and estates that I have written about many times, lakes, lush green parks and forests, and abundant farmland. It also has the Catskill and Adirondack mountains; I have not spent much time hiking in them, but it’s on my bucket list. Once you get outside of the city, you come into contact with a myriad of insects—mosquitoes, spiders, flies, crickets, and cicadas. You hear the latter two in the evenings, especially. Do I get bitten by mosquitoes? Yes I do, and the bites are irritating enough so that I ended up buying Benadryl to alleviate the itching. Ticks have become a real problem in semi-rural and rural areas; I actually know several people who have had Lyme’s disease—hikers, golfers, and fishermen.

Back in Oslo. I hope for some continuous weeks of summer from now on. Why? So that the feeling of anxiety disappears, that nagging, slightly frantic feeling of wanting to pack a summer’s worth of experiences into one or two warm days, as though we have gotten a reprieve from prison and have to make the most of it. That feeling that you cannot waste a single warm day, because a real summer day wasted is a summer day gone forever. It has felt like that for some of us this summer. You make the best of it, you don’t complain, you live one day at a time, and you hope for better weather. But many Norwegians decided early on to abandon their country for warmer lands—and did so in droves. The charter trip companies made out like bandits this summer. Financially-struggling countries in southern Europe found themselves invaded by northern Europeans seeking sun and warmth. So it’s not just me who misses real summers. And I can remember real summers here in Oslo during the 1990s when I first moved here; the shift toward cooler, shorter and rainier summers has occurred during the past five to seven years. If this is what global warming is doing to our planet--changing weather patterns to this degree--then I can only wonder about what future summers will bring.   

New York city graffiti (street art in New York)

When I was in New York recently, I spent a day wandering around lower Manhattan with my good friend Gisele. I just had to take some photos of the interesting graffiti we saw. I'm always amazed at the talented graffiti artists out there, in whatever city I happen to be visiting. Hope you enjoy these photos. I'll post some others soon.

A fascination with the night sky

I find myself looking skyward at night a lot this month; the reason is that this is a remarkable month for planet sightings according to the different astronomy websites I’ve come across. Check out the following website for good information about what’s happening in the sky above us during March http://earthsky.org/astronomy-essentials/visible-planets-tonight-mars-jupiter-venus-saturn-mercury. It helps that March has been a month of some wonderfully sunny clear days and equally clear crisp nights, so that when I look up I can in fact see the planets, stars and the moon, not hidden by clouds or fog.

I’ve never been very good at identifying the different stellar constellations, except for the Big and Little Dippers, the common names for Ursa Major and Ursa Minor if I understand the information I’ve read correctly. As a child, I remember looking up at the ceiling of Grand Central Station in New York City and being pleasantly surprised by what I saw there—a zodiac mural painted on the green ceiling, which has recently been restored. For more information about it, check out the following site: http://www.wnyc.org/articles/wnyc-news/2010/nov/08/stars-shine-grand-central-terminal-again/. My parents tried to explain some of this to us, but my siblings and I were not of an age where we could really understand it. But it was fun to look at.

I’ve been trying to photograph the night sky a lot this month, without much success until tonight. I am posting the photo I was happiest with. You can see the crescent moon, and closest to it on the left is Jupiter; Venus shines brightly above the both of them. Enjoy!

Times Square at night

Times Square in New York City has really changed during the past twenty years or so. It used to be a seedy, dirty, and unattractive area of Manhattan, but no longer. I was there for a few days in April 2009 when I visited New York for my high school reunion and I stayed in Manhattan for a few nights. I was together with a good friend and we walked around Times Square one evening--a particularly clear and lovely night. I took a lot of photos (as always). The medley of sights, sounds, colors, and shapes appeals to the eye. If it is possible to say that advertising can be beautiful in its own way, then that is definitely the case for Times Square. I love the light shows that advertise everything from candy to electronics to beer. I am sure that advertising agencies have understood the power of color and lights to sell their products against the backdrop of the dark sky. In any case, it all makes for some really cool photos. And I can again say (like the famous commercial)--"I love New York--there is no place like it." Enjoy!

A Decade of Mourning

Ten years ago today, around 3pm Norwegian time, I was at work and one of my colleagues met me in the hallway of our research institute and told me that the World Trade Center had been hit by a plane. I remember standing there in the hallway looking at her for a few moments in disbelief, and then I quickly ran into my office to check the internet for news. And then I called my husband and asked him to pick me up earlier than usual so that we could go home and watch the TV news. That was the beginning of a long period of nearly uninterrupted TV watching—where the news became something to dread rather than to look forward to in the evenings after work. But I sat there glued to the TV anyway—my connection to my home state and to the country of my birth. No matter where I turned, 9/11 was there. After the disbelief came shock, then tears, more tears, an explosion of emotions I never thought I had, grief, and then more shock when I talked to those people I know in New York who had lost someone or who knew of someone who had lost someone or many people. My sister knew a man who had lost most of his employees who worked at the restaurant at the top of the World Trade Center. My brother knew several people who had witnessed people jumping from the Towers and who were forever haunted by that sight and by the sounds of bodies hitting the pavement. Besides the sheer tragedy of horrific deaths that smashed into us that day and destroyed whatever feeble walls of defense we had, the sight of the Towers themselves crashing down is a sight I will never forget. To this day, I cannot watch this footage without becoming emotional. I guess this was how it was for our parents’ generation when Pearl Harbor was bombed. All I know is that the unthinkable became reality on 9/11. It changed me forever, and I was thousands of miles away from the tragedy that unfolded. So I can imagine how it must have been for those who experienced it firsthand or who lived in the area around the Towers or who lost friends and family on that day. My first instinct was to want to take the first plane back to the States to help, in any way possible. But I couldn't do that for economic reasons--that was the same year my mother passed away (in March) and I had already flown back and forth to New York several times in connection with her illness and death. I remember my sister and me talking after 9/11 and saying that it was best that my mother had passed before the events of 9/11. She was spared that atrocity. I still feel that way.

The American Embassy here in Oslo had a small memorial celebration today to honor the tenth anniversary of the events of 9/11 and to pay homage to the dead. I wanted to go and then I didn’t want to go, was very ambivalent right up until it happened, and ended up not going. I am not sure how I would have reacted to being there, and I was not sure that I wanted to feel again all the feelings of that day and the time afterwards. I feel sometimes like we have been in mourning for ten years, as a country and as individuals. I know that I feel that way personally. That day had a momentous impact on me, in part because I was not there when it happened, and that made it all the more poignant and intense. It was also the year that my mother died, and the grief of that year will stay with me for always, indelibly imprinted on my mind and soul. Although the news coverage of 9/11 faded in Europe sooner than in the USA, it was intense enough so that my feelings were always right on edge. It was impossible to get distance from the happenings, and that’s a good thing. But now that a decade has passed, it is a good thing to have some distance, without having become blasé.  It would be impossible for me to become blasé because I am very much wrapped up in what happened that day in New York and in what happens in the USA generally. I may live abroad but I never think of myself as anything other than a citizen of the USA, for better or for worse. And now that Norway has experienced its own 9/11 (the terrorist attacks of July 22^nd), I understand even more how it must have been for those I know who witnessed the events of 9/11 firsthand. The past decade in the USA appears to have been characterized by a focus inward—trying to figure out the whys and the meanings of that fateful day in September 2001. For my own part, I don’t know if the whys will ever be answered. There is evil in the world, and each generation has seen it—seen the atrocities resulting from the specific evil, be it world wars, or the Holocaust, or the destruction caused by the atomic bomb. Every time I think that evil does not really exist, I need only think of these events, and then I know that it does. After ten years of trying to come to some understanding of evil, it is time to move toward the light again, to focus outward. Because too much focus on trying to understand evil will not lead to much good. It is the same in Oslo after 7/22—there is no point in trying to understand the terrorist Anders Behring Breivik’s twisted views about immigration and the world—they will only drag us deeper into despair about what is happening in the world, and despair can immobilize us. That is why it is heartening to read the stories of 9/11 heroes like Jeff Parness who reached outward—starting an organization like ‘New York Says Thank You’, which sends volunteers from New York City to disaster-stricken communities every year (http://edition.cnn.com/2011/US/04/21/cnnheroes.parness.new.york/index.html), or which has gathered volunteers to help sew back together the tattered American flag that flew at the site of the Towers (http://national911flag.org/?page_id=37). These are positive and uplifting endeavors that move us toward the light—for those actually working in these organizations but also for those reading about them. As I read about these efforts across the ocean here in Oslo, I am filled with hope, hope that the decade of mourning will evolve into quite something else—a new spirit of empathy and activism and a real desire to eradicate hate and pain in the world. It is, as the old Chinese proverb says, ‘better to light one candle than to curse the darkness’.

Back in New York State

I’m in my home state of New York this week, on vacation visiting family and friends. It’s been a wonderfully relaxing visit so far, even though I’ve traveled here and there on planes, trains, in cabs and in a rental car. Some of my friends wonder how I deal with the stress of traveling. I deal with it, probably because I am not working and living in the New York City area anymore and don’t have to deal with it on a daily basis. I was in New York City yesterday and met a good friend for lunch. When I left her apartment at around 3:30 pm, it took me almost 45 minutes to get from the upper west side (88^th street) to Grand Central train station on 42^nd street because the streets were so congested with traffic. I had forgotten that it could take that long. Could I do that now each day—deal with this kind of traffic? No, not anymore. But I did at one point in my life—commuted into and out of Manhattan from my home in Somerset New Jersey. Two-hour commutes each way. I got a lot of reading done on the commuter buses; in fact, I don’t think I ever got so much reading done as in the space of the four years I commuted into and out of the city. But I had no social life to speak of in New Jersey—I got home too late each night, and on weekends, I was often back in Manhattan again with friends, going to discos, to the theater, or out to eat.

One of the reasons I love coming back to New York in the summertime is because of the heat. It’s hot here! The week before I landed at Newark, the temperatures were over 100 degrees Fahrenheit. My brother told me that it was so hot last week that many cars just couldn’t tackle the heat. In fact, his car’s air conditioning system collapsed. It’s not that hot this week (temperatures in the high 80s, low 90s), but it’s warm enough so that you don’t need a jacket when you go outside. That’s summer to me. Or sitting for a few hours on a white sandy beach like I did with another good friend out in Long Beach, Long Island, digging my toes into the warm sand and watching the waves roll in and crash onto the shore.  I’m sunburned and I don’t care; I so rarely lie in the sun that it can’t matter too much one way or the other in terms of all of the potential health risks. We ate paninis on the beach and fed some of the sandwich bread to the many seagulls that stalk the beachgoers. Sly little birds, just waiting for an opportunity to pounce on a piece of bread. I love them too. I love them in Oslo as well when we’re out on the boat, even though they poop on the boat to the great irritation of my husband. My friend reminded me that they poop on people too; this I know. It’s happened to me twice in my life; you wash it off and go on. I cannot imagine a world without them, or any bird for that matter. Incredible little creatures.

I was in upstate New York again too, this time in Highland Falls visiting my sister and her husband. We ended up at West Point and took some gorgeous shots of the Hudson River at that vantage point. The day we were there was also a scorcher; there were a lot of boats out on the river, and it was just a lovely sight. Such a beautiful river, the Hudson River. I know that I could photograph it at all angles and from all vantage points and it still wouldn’t do it justice. Its essence cannot be captured; you just have to ‘feel’ how beautiful it is. I will be posting some shots from my New York trip shortly; as always, I am taking many photos and enjoying snapping away.

It doesn’t take much to be happy in this life. A long vacation away from work stresses will do wonders. But it’s more than that too. You can start vacation feeling overloaded from work, and that feeling can just pervade and ruin an entire vacation. I feel free this year, entirely free, from all the negativity and confusion that has defined my work life and environment for the past two years. I don’t miss work. I know it’s there when I get home, but there’s no rush to get back to work. How I have changed. And I wonder how that was possible—me, the career woman for many years. But no longer. I still love science, the wonder of learning, I am still curious about so much in nature, but I am no longer interested in an academic career. I’ll leave that to those who are. I’ll do my level best to do a good job now, but within the confines of a forty-hour work week, and no more. My free time is my own. That is what has given me this newfound freedom; the knowledge that I changed my way of working and living. I work to live now, not live to work. Again the word grateful springs to mind; I am grateful these days for the changes, for the work difficulties of the past two years, for the learning processes, for the ‘divine choreography’ that is ever present in our lives as my friend Bernadette puts it. God is ever present and working in our lives, and sometimes we are granted an open window into ourselves or out into the world. We can look in or look out, or maybe even both. The window is our connection with the divine and when it is there, true happiness is there too.

Thoughts about New York city in summer

It’s never too early to start planning summer vacation. In fact, it’s smart to start around now because if you want to get together with people you need to check in with them now because they may not be around when you want to visit. Each year I plan a trip back to New York and usually I’ve been lucky—my good friends and family are around and we usually get together. I always look forward to going back to New York each year. I land at Newark airport and suddenly I feel at home. I know how to maneuver the NJ Turnpike, how to get into the city, what the quickest route is to get to Westchester—all those things. I have driven around the NYC metropolitan area for years. When I lived in NJ during the 1980s, I was always on the road, and was a pretty aggressive driver (just ask my family and friends). I have calmed down a lot, but that is mostly due to the fact that I don’t use my car here as often as I used it in NJ. It makes sense that the more you drive, the more stressful it is to drive. And in the NYC area it’s stressful to drive. There’s always a traffic jam of some sort to deal with. The worst road for traffic jams is the Long Island Expressway. I remember it used to be called the Long Island parking lot. There was never a reasonable explanation for why there was a traffic jam at any given time. The worst experience I can remember was driving a friend of mine to Kennedy airport so that she could get a flight to Germany. We made it with half an hour to spare. It was pre-9/11 so there were no real security delays. Nonetheless, it was not a pleasant experience. It took us four hours to get from midtown Manhattan to Kennedy, there was that much traffic. But somehow you deal with it and you even end up repeating the experience of driving out to the airport and hoping against hope that there will not be traffic. Hope springs eternal.

I usually fly direct from Oslo to Newark on Continental or SAS. Newark is a great airport, with its monorail that takes you from one terminal to another or to the car rental offices. It’s very efficiently set up and it makes dealing with the hassle of traveling a little easier. I take the monorail all the way to the end—to the Newark train station where I get a train into Manhattan if I don’t end up renting a car (I haven’t always done so the past few years). Every time I do this I think about how NYC functions. I mean, think about it. Over four million workers commute into and out of Manhattan each work day. That’s impressive. That is almost the entire population of Norway. It works, despite the traffic jams, crowds, delays, and aggression. Somehow it works. And when it doesn’t, it’s irritating but not chaotic. There is usually another way to get into NYC if the train doesn’t run. There is the bus, or a taxi, or a rental car, or a ferry. And when I am finally standing in midtown Manhattan, near the Grand Central train station, I take a look around me and soak in the NYC atmosphere, the NYC life. I love being in NYC in the summer time. It’s hot, noisy, and smelly; lots of people walk about, but there’s life around you. Life is always going on. It’s warm and humid. People pass you on the sidewalk, talking and laughing and having a good time—office workers on their lunch break. It’s nice to see them. It reminds me of when my brother worked in the World Trade Center; I would meet him for lunch and he would take me to a local restaurant where we would sit for an hour or two, then go to the river park and walk along the water. That was before 9/11. I haven’t been back to that area since except once, and that was to see Ground Zero, which was quite an emotional experience for me. My brother no longer works in that area, so there is not much reason to go there anymore. But it is a lovely area of the city and worth visiting if you have the chance. He and I visited Trinity Church once, which is in the Wall Street area. It is located at the intersection of Wall Street and Broadway in downtown Manhattan. It is a lovely church and one of the oldest in NYC—the first church was built in 1698.

NYC is not an unfriendly place. No matter how often I’ve heard that or seen it portrayed as such on TV or in films, I’m here to tell you that it’s not like that. You will discover that people actually smile at you if you keep looking straight ahead and not down. I smile back. Sometimes I am the one who smiles first. I don’t feel lonely in NYC. I never did when I worked there. I feel free. There was always life, no matter the time of day. I remember taking the bus back to NJ (where I lived during the 1980s) at 2am and even though it felt a bit weird to be out walking on the streets at that time, there were still plenty of people out. That’s one of the reasons I love cities generally. NYC doesn’t ever really sleep. It is the city that never sleeps. I for one think that’s a good thing. You can always find an open restaurant or deli to get a coffee. I love going into Grand Central station and getting a train to Tarrytown where I grew up. How many times have I taken that train ride? Countless times. I love sitting near the train window, looking out at the Hudson River on my way to Tarrytown. I’ve written about this before. But it bears repeating. It’s a beautiful ride and a beautiful river.

So I am sitting here and starting to plan my summer trip and other trips as well. There may be some friends visiting Oslo this year, another friend and I are planning a trip in Europe, and my husband and I are also planning a trip in Europe. But there will also be time spent in Oslo, like last summer, and that’s always nice as well, because Oslo is another city that I enjoy spending time in during the summer months.