I have a serious number of images from my trip up to the area where I grew up, which is the Finger Lakes region of central New York, but haven’t had a lot of time to write anything up about them, so I decided to split the posts into two and make them relatively brief. For me, anyway – this might mean upwards of five-thousand words or so, but you should already know that this is what
Tag: Cayuga Lake
Podcast: Too much driving
… but, hey, with good reason at least.
As you might have been able to tell from several hints in the past few posts, I recently took a long road trip up north, specifically to Ohio and New York, and engaged in various activities while thereins. Some of it really
Storytime 33
Today, we have a reminiscence of a reminiscence – or something like that. What you see here is “Silver Bridge” on the railroad spur that crosses Cayuga Lake, one of the Finger Lakes in central New York, which is where I grew up. Or passed my adolescence, anyway – we won’t discuss how little I’ve actually grown up. It’s known as Silver Bridge,
Sunday slide 10
This week, we travel all the way to central New York, and back – gosh, I’m not really sure what year this was taken (so much for businesslike recordkeeping.) No, that’s not true, it was 2006, since it’s stamped on the slide mount. I was visiting family, and took a side trip out to one of my old haunts, Montezuma Wildlife Refuge at the northern tip of Cayuga
In old New York
So, in the recent trip to New York (the state, not the city,) the schedule was tight and there were several obligations, so I had only tentative plans to get out to a couple of areas to do some exploring and/or photography, and they never came to pass. One of those plans was fossil hunting, since there are several areas close to where I was that were surprisingly easy to find fossils within.
However,
History, folklore, or rumor?
This is an examination on stories, assumptions, and filling in the blanks, which changed as I was writing it.
I grew up on the northern tip of Cayuga Lake, one of the Finger Lakes of central New York, and right down where my street ended at the lake’s edge sits an historical marker telling of a former bridge across the lake from colonial times. Standing there and looking out over the water,
What was that noise?
Being back in central NY brought to mind something from many years back, one of those memories that I can’t define why I find it so compelling, I just do.
When I was in my late teens and early twenties (that’s in years – I still haven’t gone fully metric), I used to go out for walks late at night. I was in a rural area, where nighttime traffic was very sparse and streetlights
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