​After a bit of a lull in travels and photography, Mr. Trent and I got back on the road again.  What started out to be a normal gig turned into a road trip with no work and some nice down time.  Since we were headed to the Milwaukee area anyway, we decided to just keep going and take a little extra time sightseeing-this will be the first of several sets of images and tales. 
The trip started off normal-getting on the road after a work shift with a loaded van.  When we left I thought we had arrangements to stay in a campground in Wisconsin but little did I know in a few hours things would change.  When we got the news that everything was canceled we bedded down in a WalMart parking lot to sort things out.  We made a decision to continue on.  After we started driving I thought to myself “I bet Chess Records will be open when we get to Chicago” And sure enough it was.  We found parking and jumped into a tour that had just started.  We had a wonderful guide who had quite the music history herself which made it even more interesting.  After we climbed the same flight of stairs that many greats had climbed before us we knew it was going to get even better.  The studio was incredible; our guide went through the ins and outs of the structure and how and why it was designed to get the best sound possible.  She played tracks that had been recorded there.  The sound was clearly specific to this particular place and as I closed my eyes I could imagine being in that room watching these incredible musicians while the person at the mixer board pushed and pulled everything in line to make a very clear cut one of a kind sound.  I was swept away in the moment,  as the music stopped I was jolted back into 2018.  I knew our tour was about to end.  I highly recommend visiting Chess Records if you are in Chicago especially if you find yourself there when they are open for tours.
The tour was over and we headed back to to the van, the aromas of chicken and steak swirling around us, we both realized just how hungry we were.  We walked past several eateries that smelled delicious but it wasn’t quite the scent that seemed to lead us.  As we arrived back at our van the smell seemed stronger and there wasn’t much directly around where we were.  Mr. Trent looked at me and asked if I would mind if we headed over to Reggie’s Rock Club.  We headed over and waited a moment for our eyes to adjust to the darkness of the bar.  We found out they were serving lunch and headed up several flights of stairs to a roof top deck.  Much to my surprise as we walked out onto the rooftop the delicious smells embraced us.  We quickly got a table in the corner so we could watch the trains come and go.  The food did not disappoint.   
We decided to head on out of Chicago before rush hour.  We headed north to find somewhere to stay and begin the next day of our adventure.

We found ourselves last evening enjoying one of Mother Natures’ April  Fools pranks.  Just twelve days after the vernal equinox was a beautiful Sunday that was both Easter and April Fools combined, also a scheduled night shift for me.  When I left the house it was a cool-fifty degrees-A very nice day.  Once I got into the office, put my things on the truck and did some office work, I then went to make my bed, so several hours had passed and one of my coworkers let me know it was snowing.  Ahhhh Mother Nature.  It wasn’t just any snow-this was a spring snow, my favorite kind of snow.  During the night we had a call left the station and everything was covered in a blanket of white …big clumpy snowflakes falling from the sky were sticking to everything.  I thought to myself “we will see how long this lasts, but if it does it sure will be pretty in the morning”  Well it did last and it was beautiful.
I got home, had some coffee and set out to run some errands, I decided to take my camera. That was the best decision of the day.  I stepped out of the car and headed toward the hiking trail.  Everything had big, fluffy cotton ball looking clumps of snow on it.  The sun was fully out and the big clumps were starting to melt creating a slight percussion sound as they fell through the trees landing on various surfaces.  This combined with the spring songs of many birds created quite the symphony.  The only other sounds were the squishy noises my boots were making in the muddy areas and the continuous clicking of my shutter.  I turned to the left toward a creek –choosing this way specifically –there was no bridge down this way so people rarely walk down here.  I stopped- breathing in the smell of the wet earth as it slowly warmed.  I shaded my eyes and looked up, delighted to see two turkey buzzards just chillin up in a tree.  I stood there watching them, as they watched me, and hoped for some action.  Well next thing I know one stretched out it’s giant wing and started cleaning it.  Then looked at me again and took off in majestic flight as if to say “check out these beautiful wings, I am quite the specimen”.  After they got board of me they moved on and so did I.  Back the way I came and headed toward the cat tails. I heard the chatter of some other walkers coming up behind me so I grabbed a few shots of the empty trail.
I wondered around a bit longer, but the snow was quickly melting and I was ready for a bit more caffeine so back off to home I headed.  This more than likely won’t be the last of the delightful spring snows!

As usual the weather of northeast Ohio has not disappointed once again.  Just when I think I can’t stand another day of the bitter cold Mother Nature gives us a bit of a reprieve and teases us with a sixty degree day.  With a turn of her head we are tossed right back into winter again, but at least we now can see spring teasing us in the future.  I have tried to take a Norwegian view on winter –embracing it, and it’s short days-using the time to my advantage.  Unfortunately I have found myself undisciplined and tired putting my feet up while binge watching ridiculous crime shows.  I have been taking the dog on walks when possible; there have been many days that are just too cold for her older paws.  There have also been days, while temperate enough; there is just too much ice and snow to navigate safely.  We headed out on one of these particular days, got about a third of a mile from the house and turned around.  Every time we would scale over ice and snow piles on the sidewalk she would stop, turn, look at me with a look that said it all “Are you out of your mind?  We are both going to break something”.  Needless to say the walks this winter have been a bit limited.
Well January has now come to an end and February has graced us.  My grandson and I quickly watched the groundhog report, fully knowing what he was going to say-six more weeks of winter.  There had been multiple weather discussions over the last several weeks about what the groundhog’s predictions would be.  He patiently listened to my nerdy obsession with the weather –thank goodness he still tolerates grandma’s quirks.  We came to the conclusion that the groundhog would most definitely see his shadow.  We were right.  In the grand scheme of things six weeks really doesn’t seem that long.  I had better get moving on all these winter projects. 
With that thought in my head and snow falling this morning.  I thought I hardly have any snow pictures this year.  It was snowing pretty hard and the creeks were partially frozen.   So I ventured out-this was a feat in itself- heading out alone with just my camera and pepper spray.  Now if you remember earlier I mentioned the binge watching of crime shows this winter well as I took my first steps down the desolate snow covered path I had the narrator’s voice in my head “on a cold day in Ohio a woman went for a walk in a local park” I was able to quickly push this voice out of my head as the beauty of the morning pulled me in.   I took an hour to enjoy just how quiet it is in the parks when there aren’t many others around.  Before I knew it I realized it was time to grab a hot cup of coffee and upload my images.  I felt regenerated and ready to tackle the rest of this winter with gusto!

​Once again summer has come to an end and with it the beautiful greens, flowers, fresh veggies, and those lovely long days.  Fortunately for us here in Ohio the transition is softened by the beautiful hues of Fall.  This year was not to disappoint.   I think the colors have been more vivid than usual and there has been an absolutely stunning range from yellow to deep red, even the Oak leaves, which are usually drab and brown have had a bit of an orange tint. 
Summer had been a mixture of sadness and anger over the loss of a friend.  I dumped all that emotion into work, and work was busy.  I had very little time to sleep, let alone get out and work on a silly hobby.  After his death each time I have grabbed my camera since, I think of the trip to his property and taking images of old structures there.  It was a great weekend filled with good friends, atvs, and maybe a little alcohol.  Since that time we had talked often of going back down to get pictures in the winter.  Along with all that Mr. Trent had quite a few shows scheduled on the weekends.  Well the busy work schedule has slowed down a bit, and things are getting back on track. 
 I have tried to scoot out here and there to get some images of this beautiful color, breathing in the fresh air while doing a lot of thinking.  Silly me I haven’t been taking my camera along on every little trip to the grocery store or over to get my Grandson on the bus, so it seemed as though some of the most beautiful sights I was kicking myself for not having it along.  Despite this before the weather went from summer to winter temperatures, yes we had no in-between this year- we managed a bit of gallivanting.  Even a dreary rainy day is touched by the color popping up everywhere, as if someone touched up a black and white photo a bit. 
I really wasn’t ready for summer to end this year, but there is not stopping time and I decided it is time to again embrace the change of seasons and make the most of them.

​For our anniversary trip at the end of September 2016 we decided to do something special.  This was our 10 year anniversary. We did all the quirky touristy things on our honeymoon, so we decided to go for the same theme.  After analyzing the logistics we decided on Mammoth Cave.  We headed down to Cave City, Kentucky.  We stopped once along the way to spend the night in some truck stop parking lot-our usual type of lodging-we then headed further southwest toward the area.  We picked a traditional old campground that has been in business since 1928 or 1929- Rock Cabin Camping.  We had convenient access to many of the caves and great access to Mammoth Cave National Park.  We loved the history behind this campground and enjoyed the nights we stayed there.  After we were registered at the campground we popped up to the National Park to plan our adventure for the next day.
As we snuggled up in the van we muddled over our trip to Mammoth Cave–the usual, which tour should we take, what was the best bargain?  Still not completely decided, we arrived at Mammoth Cave National Park bright and early.   Full of coffee, and feeling our oats definitely factored into the reason we made the decision we did.  We were studying the board and listened to what a few of the park Rangers had to say about the different tours and settled on the The Grand Avenue Tour-Very Strenous  (hmmm no problem we thought) , 700 stairs (really how bad could this be stretched out over 4 miles), and 4 hours long (how bad could this be if we pack snacks and water).  The big advantage to this tour was it combined all the tours we wanted to go on for a very reasonable price.  History and geography here we come!
Well I have to say we made the right decision.  It was very strenuous and we lost one couple after the first mile-a mile in they have elevators for emergencies.  The first mile was cake, the tour grew in intensity as we got further and further in.  I had no time to think about claustrophobia, I was too busy trying to keep up.  The 700 stairs were no joke, we went down stairs and then back up and back down.  My legs were like jello and the grade was steep-but the caves were beautiful and the Rangers were very informative.  When we finally made that last track up to the light of day –we had been underground for four and a half hours at this point-we saw one bus.  We all looked like survivors-even the most athletic people on our little jaunt looked disheveled and sweaty.  There were only about 18 of us on this bus and someone turned around and asked “Where is everyone else?”  Those of us left just muttered “other bus” we were all weak and thirsty.  We got off the bus and headed into the dining area and ate like we had been starved.  Now you think this would have been enough for one day……nope…..I had the brilliant idea of seeing just one more cave, but that my friends is a story for another day.  

Back in the beginning of October 2016 we stopped by a place I wanted to photograph on what I thought was going to be a quiet Sunday morning.  At about 11 am we rolled into an area of south/central Ohio once known as Moonville.  Now if you are interested in history or fascinated by things that go bump in the night I am sure you have heard of the Moonville Tunnel.  I was excited as we arrived in the area and hoping to grab some quick images and be on our way –that is not what happened.
I was sad to see as we pulled up quite a few people milling about- not exactly my expectations for this photography jaunt.  We were here and I was bound and determined to still get my images so we casually walked up to see what was going on, much to our surprise it was a dedication of the Neal Shaw Memorial Bridge.  The ceremony was a very nice one and it was great to see people so passionate about the Moonville Rail Trail.  Apparently Mr. Shaw had worked diligently to see this project come to fruition only to pass away before the bridge was completed.
There is quite a bit of folklore that surrounds this tunnel, who the ghosts are, why they died –lots of rumors and stories.  Some stories state the ghost is Frank Lawhead an engineer that was killed in a head on train vs. train collision in 1880.  We did not see a ghostly figure carrying a lantern-just a few orbs and some unexplained glare and focusing problems.  There were also a few odd unexplained noises in the tunnel itself, otherwise the trip was uneventful.  The only thing left of the town we could see were some old telegraph poles.  I look forward to heading back to Moonville to really explore this area, maybe find some old foundations and the cemetery.  It is hard to believe that nestled in the middle of nowhere was a bustling little coal town.  Maybe I can convince Mr. Trent to head back down in early Spring.

​After a couple weeks of bitter cold single digit temperatures we are now in a bit of a thaw, which made it a perfect morning to get Mya out for a walk.  I decided on the longer walk today-my body didn’t feel like it but my mind did.  Temps in the mid 30’s with lots of moisture in the air made it a bit more challenging.  There was just a hint of ice glaze on everything.  The first bit of the walk is always crazy with cars moving in and out of businesses on a busy main street-but then the reward -a quiet street with large houses that leads to a wooded area that we cut through.  As I walk down this street I think of my 8 year old self, with my Mom, at her friend’s house picking apples.  The sweet smell fills my memory as does the taste of that homemade applesauce that would come from those tart apples.  I walk on turning quickly -ducking between two houses knowing with anticipation this is our favorite part.  The lock on Mya’s lead is released and she delightfully romps and smells all the animals that have moved through the area this morning.  I let out a deep sigh and breathe in the sweet smell of pines and wood smoke.  I take a moment, there isn’t a soul around us, if it wasn’t for the drone of traffic from the highway seeping down between the trees I would think we were far away from civilization-and this is what I imagine.  The birds sing their winter songs but the mild air reminds me slightly of spring-I know that is months away but I let my imagination go.  This was a much needed break. We move slowly on.  The hazy ball of the winter sun glows low in the sky behind the large oak trees-which look almost as if they would bend down and scoop us up with their knurly branches.  Not in a scary way, but comforting as if to say “right now, in this second, in your world, everything is ok.” As we approach another road I know the end of my quiet time is near and reality will be waiting as I pass between two bushes.

Over the last year we have had many adventures, several of these adventures happened while heading back from west of Chicago, Illinois.  Mr. Trent has been asked to do several shows at these huge flea markets, I can only describe as extravaganzas.  Zurko Promotions is the company responsible for all these events and boy is there a lot to see, many bargains to be had and interesting people to meet. The aisles are filled with hundreds of vendors displaying their oddities and collectables.  If you are a lover for sensational flea market bargains any of these events are the place to be,.
The drive out is usually at night and we fill the mundane road with NPR stories and TED talks.  I think my favorite part of the drive out is the wind farms, with their big blades slowly turning and the red lights glowing like a giant field of robotic creatures all standing tall in the night.  Once we hit the other side of Fort Wayne we usually find a truck stop or a Walmart we can park at and sleep.  The next day is full of activity.  Mr. Trent usually ends up playing seven or eight sets all over the fairgrounds and we pack up exhausted heading to the closest parking lot to sleep. 
The next day however is when I usually delve into some snap shots.  I try to find a route that is conducive to whatever whim I feel like venturing into.  The goal of the last return trip was some fall foliage images.  Our first real stop brought about what you will see today.  We stopped in the town of Michigan City, Indiana.  What is there you may ask.  The answer being lighthouses of course-if you haven’t figured it out yet, I am pretty obsessed-two pretty spectacular ones to be exact.  We parked and walked by the Michigan City Old Lighthouse Museum.  Unfortunately it wasn’t open but the day was beautiful and there weren’t many people around so I was able to snap away.  We then hiked on, and on, and on yet further down and around some dunes to a beautiful sandy beach that led toward a long pier.  At the end of the pier was another lighthouse, crisp white, red and black really separated the the building from the deep blues of the water and sky.  The breeze was cool, but the sun was warm on my face.  We walked to the long cement pier and I climbed up and around where I could. 
Unfortunately the stop had to be a short one and we needed to keep driving to take advantage of the best light for pictures.  I will stop here with just the lighthouses and continue next week with the rest of this adventure.

​This autumn has brought out an abundance of incredible color.  The long fall in a combination with some unseasonably warmer weather- I believe- has brought about this lucky event.  The range of reds greens, yellows and oranges have been spectacular.  I have spent many mornings walking Miss Mya.  We have ventured out and about around the town, sneaking through shortcuts that are coated with crispy leaves.  The sweet smell of the decaying brush swirls around and the crunching as we walk fills the quiet. I am desperately trying to embrace and enjoy the season.   
Autumn is normally my favorite time but this year I dreaded the end of summer.  I was not ready for Mother Nature to push ahead into the next season.  Every year as I get older seems to go by so much faster, plans and dreams pushed to the side at time rushes by as if it is an overflowing storm drain.  It goes so fast it overwhelms me.  The faster it goes the more I feel like a deer in headlights seeing my inevitable fate before me.  Every breath, every minute seems like borrowed time-could this be because of my job –seeing too much death over the years.  Could it be I have known too many people that have died-or is this just part of aging to be aware of my own mortality?
I look in the mirror and I no longer see the young woman I once was-I now see my mother’s face looking back at me-a ghost, a reflection of someone else –a woman who died.  It startles me for a minute, then I that person in the mirror, the woman with gray roots, sad eyes and wrinkles is me.  I hear my mother’s voice echoing in my head “No it can’t be a heart attack, I am not ready for this I am not ready for this.”  That was the first heart attack-she technically did die when she coded and they brought her back-the next one killed her.  I know she wasn’t ready to die.  I want to live a long life but I know death lurks around corners in shadows and bushes waiting for an unsuspecting person to walk right into its icy grasp.
I am trying desperately to enjoy every minute of this beautiful autumn while battling this paralyzing fear of something I cannot control.

​On a beautiful October day we continued a family tradition with our Grandson and added a new twist to it.  A little history of this tradition:  every October we would head down to my Grandpa Virgil’s cottage rain or shine-on this weekend we would go to the Algonquin Mill Festival.
​Cottage seems to be such a tiny word for this wonderful home off Leesville Lake with woods and property rolling between the cottage and the lake.  He called it Whip-poor-will Hill –named after the bird who’s trill voice would echo thru the trees. 
When my Grandpa retired from years of esteemed work he settled there, it was more than bricks, logs, stones, grass and trees.  It was magical to me.  It was a place where family would gather, hike in the woods, boat on the lake and if a person was really lucky be treated to a ride with Grandpa in “Max” –which was an all-terrain vehicle.  There were many trails to ride on. 
The cottage was cool in the summer and toasty warm in the winter (heated mostly with a fireplace insert).  In the spring it smelled of earth as the gentle thaw would begin-but in the fall there was the constant sound of rustling leaves as the wind meandered through the trees.  The colors were brilliant and the cabin smelled of wood smoke and crisp air. 
The cabin had a big entertaining room with a wagon wheel light and beautiful woodwork-carpentry was Grandpa’s hobby and he was quite impressive.  There were wooden stools and handmade carvings.  There was a bunkroom, a small kitchen, small bathroom, a pump room and his little bedroom.  All surrounded by beautiful nature. 
Over the years he added many things- a beautiful stone patio with two levels and eventually a wood deck - a tree house complete with carpeting, heat and four bunks that lowered from the walls for the grandchildren and visitors-a very impressive workshop with every tool imaginable. 
It was wonderful and when Grandpa died it was auctioned, if it would have been possible at the time I would have bought it.  So of course this portion was off the table-a few weeks before this though Mr. Trent and I had been down to Carroll County and had swung by the lake, the area where the old dock was and tried to peer through the trees at the cabin.  So enough of my drifting back in time to the event in October-The Algonquin Mill festival. 
Going to the festival is a bit like stepping back in time.  Our Grandson was extremely excited about the adventure and was full of questions and “Are we there yet?” the whole way there.  We got out of the vehicle to a big bustle of activity.  The sound of steam engines puffing and sputtering filled the air-along with the smell of pancakes, apple butter and coal smoke.  We patiently waited in a big line to get a pancake breakfast-hotcakes are one of his favorite foods so this was a ok with him.  After we stepped out of the pancake house and started to move toward the steam engines his eyes got very big and he was jumping and pulling us toward the saw mill operated by a big steam engine-he could hear the shrill noise of the blades cutting through logs, the clacking of the cart on the tracks and the steam whistle blowing.  We got up to the mill and he was in a zone-taking in every detail of the machines, every movement, each cut.  I really had no idea a five year old could sit still that long, but he did.  He was mesmerized. 
We visited the cookie house, the cheese house, the bread house and the general store-but he only wanted to watch the steam engines.  As the festival got busier we had seen and done everything and headed out.  The ride home was much quieter.  He gets a look on his face that reminds me of my Dad when he is pensive, and I knew he was thinking about those machines the whole ride home.