Dolphins in my Backyard

Standing at my kitchen sink doing the dishes, looking out over the Florida creek that is in essence our backyard I notice there are ripples in the water. That’s usually an indicator of 1.) a boat has just passed, 2.) a dolphin or group of dolphins have just passed or 3.)  manatees are nearby. No boat sounds but lots of turbulent water and kinetic splashing. I walk down to the dock to discover to my delight a group of 4 adult dolphins swimming under and around our dock. They are herding a school of fish against our sea wall, blocking their escape - easy pickings for dolphins when they work as a team like this.  It is a cloudy grey-black evening sky just getting ready to rain - the sky is reflected perfectly in the creek - turning it the same shades of grey. Standing on the dock I watch these 500 lb behemoths swim just below the surface turning on their sides to maneuver the fish more efficiently.  They gaze up at me as they pass by, so close I could touch them if I were to reach my hand down. Their light white-grey underbelly and darker slate-grey dorsal area allow them to blend so perfectly that they seem as if from a dream, ghost-like as they skim by. As I watch, two Roseate Spoonbills fly over, heading to their evening roosting site, bright pink against the darkening sky.  This morning I woke to two Red-bellied woodpeckers on the palm tree in the back yard near the Frangipani (AKA: Plumeria) which is in full bloom.  

Ireland

This last year has been a year of travel, some for pleasure, simple curiosity as well as for family events. The fantastic thing about traveling is the sense of discovery. Since starting to do photography several years ago, it has only heightened my pleasure of the travel experience. But often times it’s the smallest of things that have a lasting impact.  I’ve been to Ireland twice in the last year, the second time to take my nephew to see where his ancestors came from. I do know that there are some places on this planet that just feel right, comfortable, somehow familiar. It’s easy to romanticize a place through a visitor’s eyes but I’m old enough now, have traveled a bit and had lived in a European city for brief time in the 1980’s so I’m not so prone to idealizing a place. But Ireland felt different. Maybe it’s the cool overcast weather, the vast empty spaces, the history that continues to inform, the music that I’ve always been attracted to, or even more a sense of melancholy that has always been just below the surface for me in my daily life.

In Ireland I met a man in a Dublin Pub who had recently returned from living in New Zealand for 12 years.  He asked why I had come to Ireland in the unlikely month of February. I explained that I was a Callaghan on my mother’s side, that I was curious about where my great-great grandmother, Catherine, had come from. Bear in mind that I grew up with a houseful of brothers so being self -deprecating is the best defense (in regard to anything that really matters to you), easier to make fun of yourself than to have a brother throw in his often times caustic (albeit mostly droll) commentary.  As I’m telling him this, I’m rolling my eyes (before he can), self-conscience about being perceived as just another pseudo wanna-be Irish American looking for my roots. But here’s the amazing thing, he looks me straight in the eyes and says in a gentle voice, “Welcome home.” I‘m startled, trying to figure out is he making fun of me?  But nope, he’s dead serious, and I stop for a moment before saying “Thank you” in a quiet voice filled with gratitude.

November 2011 - Botswana & Zimbabwe

I have worked with captive wild animals for the last 30 years in some capacity, first as a gorilla keeper, then as the field conservation coordinator for the Columbus Zoo then the Brevard Zoo. The best part of working with animals is just being able to observe their behaviors - always fascinating. For the last week I have been in Africa, first in Zimbabwe and now Zambia. It is both surreal and magical to watch elephants come to drink, to hear lions at night, to watch a giraffe at full gallop. A repetitive theme in my life is the absolute astounding beauty of the natural world that surrounds us. There are miracles in the sensitive trunk of an elephant, in their ability to hear one another over long distances through vibrations they can "read" through their feet, in their highly complicated social lives. Miracles abound in the memory of an elephant matriarch who knows where to go to feed and for water during this long hot (and deadly) dry season. 

Elephants Observations: At a watering hole in Zimbabwe -near Hwange National Park: A small sub-group of 5 to 10 individuals would come to the water source, stay for a while drinking and cooling off.  After a bit, one of the members would break off to stand well away from the water, watching intensely in the distance from which they had come, she would become quite still, scanning the horizon, trunk in the air , then lift one of her front feet and appeared to be “listening”. Sure enough shortly thereafter another small sub-group of elephants would appear on the horizon - heading towards the watering hole. The sentinel would then return to her group and they would move off in the opposite direction - just passing through. I saw this countless times with each new group that came to drink.

Pauline Shuler Authenrieth

My grandparents met in a bar near Camden New Jersey. It was August 1942, my grandfather (an only child from Columbus Ohio, son of a school teacher, graduate from Ohio State University, with no clear religious affiliation) was up singing “Temptation” with the local band. Pop-pop had stopped in along with his fellow soldiers from a nearby army training camp. It was then that my grandmother fresh off her late shift at the RCA factory walked in. Pauline Shuler was one of eight girls, raised Catholic, daughter of Royden Lynn (I’m named for him, Lynn being my middle name) and his wife Sylvia Catherine (she’s our Irish connection, being a Callaghan),  a divorcee, and mother of an 8 year old girl (my mother). Six months later they were married just before Pop-pop was shipped off to Europe.  My grandfather raised my mother as if his own. My brothers and I were lucky to have such wonderful grandparents - Mom-mom adored us. She and Pop-pop taught us to love Big Band music. At Thanksgiving and Christmas gatherings they would dance to the beat of Artie Shaw or Glenn Miller, watching them dance together was a bit like magic. Pop-pop was a man of few words but had a great wry wit and probably was the most handsome man I’ve ever met.  My grandmother was the keeper of the stories and throughout my childhood I peppered her with endless questions about her family - her sisters (Ida, Sylvia, Nita, Ronnie, Boots, Fay, and Dru), what her parents were like, what it was like growing up in such a large family during the depression, where she was when she heard about Pearl Harbor, how she met my grandfather?

In 1989 I visited her in Florida taking along a cheap tape recorder. Every morning while having our coffee, I'd turn on the recorder and off we’d go - back to her childhood and beyond - further back in her family history. I have five tapes (now transferred to CD’s) of my grandmother’s voice - her laugh, her intonations, her slight Jersey accent on certain words, her funny way of saying “yeh” in a high-pitched voice in response to my “No kidding” when some family story surprised (or shocked) me.  The other day my niece and I were baking my Great Aunt Fay’s (my grandmother’s sister) cookies - while listening to these tapes. I love the fact that she can hear her great grandmother’s voice and unique laugh. These tapes are one of my most treasured possessions.  I’m in the process of transcribing the text and one day will present the tapes/CD’s and transcripts to each of Pauline Shuler Authenrieth’s great grandchildren - she would have liked that.

Southern Africa

After a brief hiatus, I’m back to my blog! Spent most of November in southern Africa - mainly Botswana and Zimbabwe, a bit in Namibia and Zambia - took loads of photos. I continue to be amazed and inspired by the lush as well as the stark beauty of this world.  I hope I was able to capture a bit of the diversity of wildlife and the stunning beauty of the people of Africa. On my last night in Africa, I sat out on our tent deck - the light attracting all shapes and sizes of insects. An especially loud insect flew past and as I turned to see what it was, I was startled to see a huge snowy white eagle owl sitting on the porch railing.  I think she was just as startled to see me as we both jumped a bit, we looked at one another for a brief second before she flew off as silently as she had appeared. It was my parting gift from Africa.

Jewels in Your Own Backyard

I love, love, love my city, Columbus Ohio.  It's a city of great music, art and restaurants as well as unique neighborhoods. I never know what I will discover. My day had started with a discussion about my Grandmother’s tea set - while running errands I took an alternate road and weirdly enough (tea being the connect) happened upon the Cambridge Tea House on 5^th avenue in Grandview. 

I stopped in, ordered a cup of tea and a yummy veggie sandwich of cheese, carrots, lemon hummus, avocado and sprouts on home-made crusty bread. The sandwich came with a side of cold pasta with bits of butternut squash and raisins. I lived for a short time in Amsterdam - the Dutch have a word “gezellig” which means cozy… it describes tea time with pastries, or your house on a rainy day, or snug in a comfy chair reading a good book.  

Cambridge Tea House  was both elegant and gezellig with creamy white walls and brick architectural features. Numerous windows created a light and airy feel on an otherwise dreary rainy day. Botanical and bird prints were sparingly and strategically placed throughout. Even the chalk board with the daily specials was fantastic (I’m a big chalk board fan!). It was the simplicity of the furnishings, wall colors, linen table cloths, fresh flowers that created such a beautiful atmosphere. Their tea selection was varied- they offer high tea in the afternoon and I can’t wait to bring my tea connoisseur friend Julie here for lunch.  I truly felt I was back in Europe enjoying a simple graceful meal.

I couldn't resist tasting more food so I placed a take-out order of beet salad as well as the mixed greens with feta/citrus fruit which we'll have for dinner this evening along with some toffee pudding for dessert. Thinking I had made this amazing discovery I asked how long they had been open -  the staff informed me that they had been in business for two years. Just goes to show you that when you take a different route through your own city, a city you think you know - you may just find a jewel. 

*Tap on the CTH photos to the right to go directly to their web-site.

Spring Bulbs

I absolutely love the seasons. Every Autumn day is a colorful jewel with ever-changing colors. The brilliant blue October skies with puffy white clouds serve to inspire. The morning and evening light cast shadows so brilliantly defined that they illuminate a simple leaf into a thing of absolute beauty - it is the perfect time of year for taking photographs. 

The brisk air tinged with wood smoke makes walking a pleasure. Even rainy days have a cozy feel to them prompting a nesting instinct - to bake, to change to flannel sheets, to decorate a room in Autumnal colors of burgundy and oranges.  But another favorite part of Fall is to peruse the garden stores for Spring bulbs. 

Today I bought the last of my bulbs and will plant in the next few days so that their beauty will dazzle us five months from now.  The tulips, daffodils, hyacinth, crocus will develop and unfold on a daily basis throughout April and May  - creating a sense of wonder.    

Whatever you believe (science or god based), however this world was created we are blessed and fortunate to live in a world of such diverse colors and not in a gray two-tone existence. Seems that people are always looking for miracles, but here’s the deal - they are already here right outside your door - in the dirt, in the trees, the flowers -  each a miracle in itself.

Recommendations:

*If you have not tried forcing bulbs inside during the winter months - give it a try. Just google the topic or ask at your local garden center for advice.

*Visit Kingwood Center Gardens in Mansfield Ohio in early spring for a real treat! Tap on the tulip photos to go directly to their web-site.

*One of my favorite books that got me interested in gardening was the daily journal/memoir by poet and novelist May Sarton - “The House by the Sea”

Tea and Cookies

While writing up this cookie recipe, I can smell my onion, tomato, parmesan and goat cheese quiche baking away......

Ginger Lemon Shortbread Cookies

This recipe is based on a “Ginger & Lemon Cookies” recipe from the 2006 Fine Cooking Holidays edition - I’ve increased the amount of lemon, fresh ginger and crystallized ginger and roll out the dough.  The consistency reminds me of shortbread - I also think the dough could be shaped and baked like a scone - you would have to adjust the cooking time due to the thickness then. Lovely with a cup of Earl Gray Tea...Enjoy!

Preheat oven to 350 F

Cream together:

2 sticks softened unsalted butter 

¾ cup sugar

Zest of an entire lemon

Add and mix well:

½ tsp vanilla

3 Tbls. (plus) finely grated fresh ginger - I add a bit more

Add and mix well:

2 ½ cups unbleached flour

½ tsp. salt

Add and mix:

3 Tbls. - finely chopped crystallized ginger

Place dough in cling wrap and chill - 15 minutes or so

Roll out dough and use the rim of a glass to cut out circles

Place on parchment paper - sprinkle with a mixture of sugar and finely chopped crystallized ginger. 

Bake for 13 to 15 minutes at 350 F

October Orange

It’s Autumn and orange is everywhere so I thought I would recognize and be thankful for all things orange that I've recently seen. Thanks for the orange leaves on my neighborhood trees -  for  the mounds of red, green, brown and orange leaves that I walk/shush through on the sidewalks - and the sound they make. I’m thankful for the orange tulips in a clean white vase on my mantle. I’m thankful for the people that went to the Occupy Columbus Rally - for people who believe it’s essential for a democracy to question and keep questioning. I’m thankful for the velvet pumpkins decorating my kitchen counter - and for the people who had the imagination to make them (tap on the photo and go to the “Hot Skwash” web site). I’m thankful for the orange of tigers and the miraculous beauty of all wild creatures. I’m thankful for the wonders of October.

Civility

I was driving to my morning walk today, sitting idle at a red light when a car driven by a man came to a jarring stop just beside and a bit behind me, at the same time a young woman pulled up directly behind me. The man rolled down his window to spew astonishingly vile and obscene language at her - because she had pulled out in front of him. His tirade was not just vitriol it was hate-filled….I was stunned.

I spent the next hour on a 3 mile walk thinking about what I had just witnessed. It’s a topic I’ve been mulling over for a number of years now, this breakdown of social parameters that allows for such objectionable behavior, this lack of civility. And I began thinking that gorillas as a group would never tolerate that kind of over-the-top behavior. If a member of a gorilla troop becomes excessively unnecessarily aggressive for no apparent reason or for a perceived social slight, the other group members will shy away from him, eventually he will be exiled from the troop - in essence a social outcast.

I continued on my walk trying to find my way back to the beauty of this Autumn day, taking photographs, having a sweet conversation with a young man BMX biking, scooting a small snake off the bike path.  It seemed fitting that when I returned home I had a package from fellow gorilla keeper, Richard Johnstone-Scott of Jersey Island. It contained the book he had written about an extraordinary gorilla he had worked with for years, named Jambo. In August 1986, Jambo became famous for seemingly standing guard over a young boy that had fallen into his gorilla enclosure - eventually keepers arrived to assist in getting the boy out.  This event made news throughout the world by way of an amateur video. Jambo showed the rest of the world what we as gorilla keepers already knew; a gentle, altruistic side to their nature. On the cover of the book was a comment by the highly revered conservationist Gerald Durrell describing Jambo:  “A magnificent individual, courteous and gentle.” Words to ponder and embrace …..

Books

When I was a child my Mom took me to the library every Thursday evening. I could get as many books as I wanted and any kind of book I wanted. Driving home in winter, I would read by the light of the corner streetlights - unable to wait until I got back to the house.  Both my parents were big readers, my Dad sitting cross-legged on the floor reading a paperback (usually sci-fi) with a cigarette in one hand and a beer at the ready.   

One summer evening when I was about nine years old, my parents called me into my brother’s bedroom - my Dad just climbing down from the attic with a cardboard box. He placed it on the bed and as both my parents stood back watching, I opened it to find all my mother’s books she’d had as a child. It was like finding a buried treasure enhanced by the fact that it was a complete surprise having had no clue that these books even existed. The entire Pollyanna series, Penny Parker mysteries, Little Women and Little Men both by Louisa May Alcott and my grandfather's illustrated copy of Heidi. I spent the whole summer staying up late eating saltine crackers, drinking sweetened iced tea devouring each and every book.

I'm happy to report that there are a bunch of kids in my family that love to read. My 16 year-old nephew read Band of Brothers by Stephen Ambrose while we drove through Ireland last February. We found a book store in Galway and bought him another Ambrose book for the long plane ride home. My niece, when visiting will head upstairs to bed to curl up with a book reading late into the night (shades of me!). All the kids in my family received their own copy of Harry Potter as soon as each installment came out.  Nothing gives me greater pleasure than seeing a child completely engrossed in a book, oblivious to the world around them. Here are a few of the books I’ve read  (and loved) recently:

Cutting for Stone by Abraham Verghese

Doc by Mary Doria Russell

Cocktail Hour under the Tree of Forgetfulness by Alexandra Fuller

Jacqueline Kennedy: Historic Conversations on Life with John F. Kennedy - Forward by Caroline Kennedy

Musings from a Former Gorilla Keeper

Columbus Zoo, 30 September 2010

I am once again blessed to be watching a newborn gorilla infant with its mother. First-time mom Cassie gave birth the day before while her cage mates quietly watched. For thirty years, on and off, I have been fortunate to have a glimpse into the lives of these fascinating creatures and their complicated social lives. They are at once aloof, funny, touching and endearing. By all accounts Cassie appears to be a good mom, very matter of fact about this whole business of a baby clinging to her belly…..she is her mother all over again.  Sixteen years prior in these very same cages Cassie herself was born. 

As I sit over the next weeks watching Cassie and her infant - verifying nursing’s, documenting the onset of teething, how mom and infant interact with one another - I am struck by the physical similarities Cassie possesses of both her father, Oscar, and her grandfather, Bongo.  When she is hunkered down on her belly, and glances up at me she looks startling like her father Oscar - it is his rust-colored eyes that I see. And I wonder, having never met her father who died shortly before her birth how and where did she get the mannerisms that so mimic him? Cassie  has the same furrowed lines under her eyes that were such a dramatic part of her grandfather Bongo’s face as well as his distinctive jaw-line.  She looks so much like her grandfather and father it is as if they are here, still a part of both our lives.  

These gorillas from one generation to the next carry with them the stories of their forefathers - their daily lives, their individual personalities, their challenges and triumphs. I see it in Cassie’s newborn infant who has her own father’s almond shaped eyes. They carry with them all that had gone before, from Africa to a captive setting at a US zoo. They carry the stories of their ancestors.

Photography

Just a reminder to those reading this blog, if you tap on to the photos they will take you directly to  a web site that has something to do with that daily blog. For instance, the Ireland photo above goes to David Stapleton's driving service in Ireland. He is a fantastic guy - funny, knowledgeable and a great guide. I would highly recommend using him when traveling to Ireland if you don't want to do the driving yourself.

If you tap on the photos by the Pumpkin Bread recipe that will take you to my good friend Wanda Wilcox Starkweather's Paintbrush Adventures web site. If traveling to Montana, get in touch with Wanda for riding, camping, fishing and wonderful accommodations.

The photos of  Cottage Street store take you directly to their web site. 

All other photos will take you to my photography web site http://www.photosbybetharmstrong.com

Pumpkin Bread

My favorite new recipe is from my good friend Wanda of Absarokee Montana. Wanda is an outfitter, a rancher and a true friend to many (tap onto photo of Montana to the right to get to Wanda’s web site). Wanda sent me a cookbook by Mary Leffingwell of the G Bar M Ranch of Clyde Park Montana.   

This is the most delicious pumpkin bread I’ve ever had - can easily be made into cupcakes and iced with a simple butter-cream or cream cheese icing. But truthfully it is yummy as is with a nice cup of hot tea on a cool autumn day.  You can easily half the recipe but I usually make all 4 loaves and give some away.

Pumpkin Bread

Oven Temp: 350 F.

4 bread loaf pans - buttered

Bake for 60 to 70 minutes

Mix:

3 ¾ cups sugar

1 ¼ cups vegetable oil

5 eggs

2 ½  cups pumpkin or 1 large can

Sift Together:

4 1/3 cups flour (I always use unbleached when baking)

¾ tsp. baking powder

2 ½ tsp. salt

2 tsp. cinnamon

2 tsp. ground cloves

2 tsp. nutmeg

2 tsp. allspice

Add:

2 ½ tsp. baking soda to ¾ cup water

Add dry ingredients to pumpkin mixture, mix well then add soda water and mix well. Pour into 4 buttered loaf pans and bake for 60 to 70 minutes at 350 F.

Summer Night

The walk began at dusk, the elegant black iron street lights just beginning to flicker on. I pay homage to my grandmother by walking to her old house, a small white cape cod with blue shutters they built  just after the war in 1946 – paid for with money my grandfather won from playing craps on the returning troop ship. The weather has finally broken and the night is cooler, a slight breeze rustles around me and the dog –  the dog named after my grandmother’s own Irish tribe – the Callaghan's. With the darkness comes the lights of the houses illuminating lives within, some with huge television screens - their bluish light showing through gauzy curtains and I think to myself, “Come out here, look what you are missing, you will not remember that TV program when you look back over your life but you would remember this summer night – if you are lucky you may just catch a glimpse of your childhood.”

I skirt around my grand-parents corner house and continue on to the street where I grew up. The huge oak tree still stands guard near my house – spreading its branches over the near-by homes as if a mother gathering her brood of children into the safety of her arms.  I close my eyes and breathe deeply and am eight years old or nine or ten. The cicadas and crickets are joyous in their chorusing and I wonder are these the offspring of the cicadas and crickets I heard as a child? I wonder too just as I pass in front of my childhood home, glancing up at my bedroom window, “Is there a little girl right now on this street curled up in bed, savoring a good book, listening to these melodious night creatures through the whirr of a window fan?"  And will she walk these streets 40 years from now as I do right now and be thankful for this gift of a summer night?

Simple Things

Here’s the deal, it took me a long time to figure out that it is the simple things that make a life worth living - the little treasures that are just there for the examining.  Daily walks to see and smell the changing seasons - to just think and clear your head.  A good book that transports you to another place and time peopled with characters that you embrace and dislike - a book you can’t bear to put down and when you do, you cannot wait to get back to.  A kid in the family that just cracks you up with some unintentionally hysterical observation - and more often than not completely correct in its perception.  Tulips in the spring, brilliant red sugar maple leaves in the fall, snow swirling past old-fashioned street lamps on a dark Christmas Eve - a snow storm that you could not resist walking through.  Bake days with a variety of nieces, nephews and grandkids in my extended pieced-together family. Taking a photograph that is unexpectedly beautiful. These are some of my treasures.