Reflections on balance and change and on the town where I grew up

It’s been a while since I’ve written a post for this blog. That’s because I’ve been traveling. I was in New York again recently to attend a wedding and to deal with certain issues connected to my brother’s death. I did a lot of walking on this trip, and had a lot of time to reflect on being there and on my life in general. These are some of my recent observations and reflections, most of them having to do with the importance of having balance in one’s life. My life now is about achieving balance.

There is a time for sadness and a time for happiness. My brother’s sudden and untimely death in February was followed by the happiness of a May wedding. I don’t think I have ever enjoyed a wedding as much as I did this one. Perhaps because I needed something happy to round out the sadness I have been feeling since February. Or perhaps because this wedding really was something different—a lot of fun. Or perhaps both. Thanks and best wishes go to Andrea and Mike who love each other and are happy to share their happiness with us.  

An exceptionally warm spring in New York balanced out the cold winter it experienced. I was lucky enough to experience that warmth in New York on this trip. There is nothing like sunlight and warmth to compensate for the darkness and cold of winter, and that is true no matter where you live.

As always, when I return to the town where I grew up, Tarrytown, I realize how beautiful it is and how privileged I was to grow up there. I remember train rides into Manhattan when I was a young adult, and some of the rundown ugly areas through which the train passed. I always knew that I could return to the loveliness of my hometown.

I always remember my parents and growing up in our house when I am in Tarrytown. Yet for each year that passes, I experience so much that is new, and these experiences eventually become joyful memories. I walk around there now and experience the town as an adult, far removed from my childhood and teenage years. I will never forget my parents or my growing up, but I have new memories now that lessen the sorrow of the old, the reminders that my parents are gone and with them the life that was. The bittersweet memories of my early years have been balanced out by new and happy experiences in this lovely town. I have integrated both into the person I am now. Sadness and happiness coexist within me—side by side.

I know my way around Tarrytown, that was clear to me on this trip—the names of the streets, where to make a right or left turn if one is driving, where to find a parking space, and where to take a short cut when walking or driving. I spent one day while I was there just walking around the town, from my hotel on Route 119 down to the railroad station and then up again to Broadway through the different residential streets. I walked further on to Sleepy Hollow (formerly North Tarrytown) and all the way to the Sleepy Hollow Cemetery, at which point I turned around and headed back to the hotel. I must have walked at least eight miles that day. On my way back, I visited the Warner Library and read a few newspapers in the reference room. I also took some photos for the book I am writing about growing up in Tarrytown. In the lobby, I met a Maryknoll priest who was taking photos for a book he is writing about growing up in Tarrytown. It was nice to meet a fellow wanderer. I also stopped at the Pastry Chef and enjoyed some biscotti and a cappuccino. The Pastry Chef is where my parents always bought the excellent cakes (lemon sponge cake comes to mind) that we had for the special occasions in our lives—graduations, birthdays, holidays.

I have changed, yet parts of me remain the same and will always do so. Much like Tarrytown itself. Tarrytown has changed, and yet it remains the same as I remember it from growing up in many ways. It struck me that it truly is a little slice of Americana, to be able to walk around this town and see shops and buildings that existed when I was a child, and probably long before I was born as well. And as my sister commented, the places where we hung out as teenagers are still very much the same. She and I drove around Philipse Manor and Sleepy Hollow Manor, the Lakes, and to Rockwood, where we walked for a while like we did when we were teenagers. Rockwood is still a montage of sprawling hills and flat meadows, untamed vegetation and growth, lovely old trees, gorgeous views of the Hudson River, and a sense of wildness that never leaves it. The nature of Rockwood exists for itself; it is not under man’s control and I like that. Being there frees the heart and soul. The trees are old and beautiful, and speak of a time that existed long before we were born. I like that feeling of mystery, of the unknown.

Rockwood Hall State Park in winter

Rockwood Hall State Park on the Hudson River, in Sleepy Hollow, New York, is a beautiful park to walk around in. I have mostly photographed it during the summer months, but when I was in NY last week, I visited this park to find some peace during a difficult and sad time, on a beautiful sunny winter day. As these photos show, the park is lovely in all seasons, and all those who frequent this park know that they are lucky that it exists.

So much wild beauty at Rockwood

This past August, when I was driving around in Tarrytown and Sleepy Hollow, I revisited Rockwood Hall State Park, which was simply Rockwood to us when we hung out there as teenagers. The park, which is located in the town of Sleepy Hollow, faces out onto the Hudson River; you can read more about its history here: http://www.nynjtc.org/hike/rockwood-hall-sleepy-hollow. I've written about Rockwood before in this blog, about how beautiful it was many years ago, and how if we just wanted to get away from it all for a few hours, that was the place we drove to so that we could walk and talk, especially during the summers. One of my last hikes through the park before I moved away from Tarrytown was during the early spring, when the grounds and trees were just starting to recover from a cold winter. The park hasn't changed much in all these years; in fact, if anything, it's more overgrown and wilder than it was before. One thing that was new was that there were wooden benches placed here and there for those who want to just sit and rest or read, as I saw one young man doing. But it's the wildness about it that I love--the overgrown bushes and trailing vines, the many trees, the open meadows, the lush greenery, and the gorgeous views of the Hudson River. I met one or two other visitors on my walk, but otherwise I had the park mostly to myself on this sunny August afternoon. I enjoyed being alone on a warm summer day, happy to be outdoors and to be back in a place that meant a lot to me as a teenager. I'm including some photos of Rockwood as it looked in August, as well as a photo collage of Rockwood from over thirty years ago, taken during the month of March.

Hudson River and view of the lovely Palisades

Tappan Zee Bridge in the distance

Started watching Sleepy Hollow, still watching TWD

Started watching the show Sleepy Hollow at the beginning of January; we’re some months behind the USA where I know the season finale already took place in December. I love the show; it works for me, thanks to the superb acting of Tom Mison as Ichabod Crane, Nicole Beharie as Abbie Mills and Orlando Jones as Frank Irving. I grew up in Tarrytown NY, the sister town to Sleepy Hollow (which was formerly called North Tarrytown); The Legend of Sleepy Hollow written by Washington Irving was required reading in high school. Most inhabitants of both towns are familiar with the story of the Headless Horseman and Ichabod Crane. The TV show bears little resemblance to the original story, but it’s a cleverly-written supernatural show that works. Tonight’s episode, Sanctuary, was especially good; we now know that Katrina, Ichabod’s wife, gave birth to a son in a house that was a sanctuary for former slaves as well as a haven against supernatural evil forces. The baby’s birth breaks the protective spell surrounding the house and the evil forces invade the house. It is implied that many of the inhabitants were killed. In the present time it is an abandoned haunted house—haunted by good and evil ghosts, and ‘guarded’ by the ‘tree monster’ that was sent by the demon Moloch to destroy the original inhabitants of the house. The tree monster is awakened to life when a descendant of the original family who owned the house overtakes it and decides to renovate it and live there. Every now and then when I watch this show, I am (briefly) reminded of The X-Files, another favorite show of mine, because the wonderful chemistry between the two main characters Ichabod and Abbie in Sleepy Hollow reminds me of the chemistry between The X-Files’ Dana Scully (played by Gillian Anderson) and Fox Mulder (played by David Duchovny).

Still watching The Walking Dead (and it still gets under my skin—as in, it’s still pretty creepy after four seasons in). It’s not so much that I’ve grown attached to any particular character; it wouldn’t make much sense to do that, given that the show is not averse to killing off major as well as minor characters. Again, the actors (thanks to the writers) do a very credible job of showing us what it might be like to live in an apocalyptic world peopled by zombies. But the show also realistically depicts what it might be like to have to deal with other survivors who might not be the nicest people (the Governor and his lackeys). It is one of those rare shows where the group dynamics provide much of the reason for my watching it. I like the interplay between the characters, their different strengths and weaknesses, the way they depend on each other, and the way they face their fears, as well as watching them deal with the ‘walkers’, because that’s what the show is really about—dealing with the living dead that are always lurking about. It’s not so much the shuffling and the way they move and look that are unnerving, but rather the way they sound—you can hear them coming (growling) long before they actually appear. I suppose in one way this should be advantageous, as it gives the characters time to get away or to prepare for confrontation. On the other hand……..

The Headless Horseman leads the way

I’m sharing a pretty cool photo with you today; for those of you who grew up in Tarrytown or North Tarrytown (now Sleepy Hollow) New York, you’ll understand why I was so taken with this photo. It shows the Sleepy Hollow High School (SHHS) football team being led onto the field by the Headless Horseman (of the The Legend of Sleepy Hollow by Washington Irving fame). The Headless Horseman is apparently their mascot, and this photo was taken right before a recent game against their arch-rival—Ossining High School. They beat them 41 to 32, so that was good news for SHHS fans.

I grew up in Tarrytown as most of you know. My parents were big fans of the SHHS football team when we were growing up, so many Saturdays during the autumn found us in the bleachers watching the team play its season games. What I remember was the excitement and electricity in the air—that sense of life or death that can only be understood by die-hard sports fans. A bad call by a referee that led to our team’s defeat was the worst that could happen and was talked about for hours after the game. I remember the sounds of the players hitting and tackling each other, and the cheerleaders who led us in chants and songs. But what I also remember was freezing my butt off sitting in the bleachers in early November; I was dressed for the cold weather, but it’s tough to sit outdoors in the cold and rain, as often happened, for hours at a time. I remember feeling miserable and just wanting to go home on some occasions, which of course was what happened if it got too unbearable. But mostly, we were loyal supporters and a win by our team could make our day. The cold and rain were forgotten when our team won. I guess that’s how it should be; after all, the players and the cheerleaders were also cold and wet, but kept right on doing their jobs. There’s something to be said for that kind of dedication, and for that kind of loyalty on the part of the supporters. 

This photo was taken by photographer Patrick Tewey; check out his website at http://www.patricktewey.com/