We are experiencing all kinds of weird things here in New Jersey. Cicadas are something I categorize with humid, tropical climates. We’ve had the cicada symphony going on now for several weeks. The fireflies have left us and the cicadas have taken root in our treetops. They are so noisy it’s even hard to hear the TV if we have the windows open, which we have tonight. Finally, after record breaking temps for the whole week, we now have a break. Last night after our torrential downpour of rain, complete with a power outage for 4 hours due to a downed line, the cicadas were silent. After that rain I thought they had all drowned. But tonight they are all alive and singing. It’s a strange symphony of sound. From treetop to treetop they seem to be sending signals back and forth to each other. What a noise they all make together! It’s very comforting, but somewhat alien to us. It sounds like we are living in the tropics! They sing in the morning too if it’s hot, but they do their best singing at night. Like now. Awesome.

I know I"ve been bad about adding to the blog over the past week. That’s mostly because my Mom is visiting from upstate New York this week. We like to get her down here about every 5 weeks or so to visit. This time we decided to go to the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island while she was here. We know that Rick’s parents want to go when they come in October, so we really needed to do a “trial run” to get the kinks out. Mom was excited about going and didn’t mind being a guinea pig of sorts.

We left the house pretty early [at least early for us] and it only took us about an hour to reach our destination, Liberty State Park, on the New Jersey side. From here we’d catch the ferry out to Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty. We had advance tickets because we were going to the Swiss Day Celebraton at Ellis Island, so included in our ferry tickets were passes to the pedestal at the Statue of Liberty. Not everyone gets to go up in the pedestal and stand on the observation deck. You must have a pass that is only available in advance. We just lucked out!

We had a short wait for the next ferry since they run every 45 minutes and one had just left about ten minutes before we arrived. We went through security [just like at the airport] and stood in line. It was already hot at 9:30 a.m. and the sun was beating down on us. At least my Mom thought to bring a hat for her head, and many people had brought umbrellas to keep them shaded. We knew in advance it was going to be in the high 90s, but weren’t really thinking ahead as to what that meant. Sunscreen would have been nice to have as well. 

First stop was Ellis Island as it made the most sense in the way that the ferries ran. Plus our pedestal passes for Liberty where not valid until 12:45. Here is the museum building on our approach. You can see the Swiss flag and all the white tents set up for the festivites.

I had not realized that when Ellis Island was closed as an immigration station in 1954, that the buildings were just left to deteriorate into sad ghosts of what they had once been to so many people. The new immigration museum was opened in 1990 after being completely restored. The effect is certainly stunning, and very interesting. Many interesting exhibits show the steps involved for the immigrants the moment they stepped off the boats, such as the different exams they had to pass, etc. Wonderful photos help tell the stories. Some photos of people are blown up to huge proportions and the images are haunting. Eerie. Each of them are wearing their native garb. We didn’t go into all the exhibits, there just wasn’t time. The brochure states you should allow 3 hours to tour the museum, and I think I agree. The exhibit that showed the building before restoration is extremely interesting…and haunting. What a lot of work!

We had lunch at the Swiss event, brats and german-style potato salad, but it was too hot outside to do much else. Most of the entertainment would come later in the day. So, after lunch we set off for Lady Liberty. Here she is on our approach.

And another shot as we rounded the corner to dock at Liberty Island with the skyline of Manhattan in back of her. What a lovely day!

We wasted no time in going to the pedestal since our passes were now valid. The Statue of Liberty was closed to the public between 2001 after the 9/11 attacks and reopened in 2004 with security upgrades. We had to go through yet another security search. This time with a machine I had never seen before but similar to a metal detector. You had to stand there as little puffs of air hit your body from every direction. They said is was a kind of “bomb sniffer” looking for residue of explosive materials on the body. Okay, whatever. We waited again for the next slot to enter the museum in the pedestal’s lower level. While we waited my Mom was pretty entertained just watching the strange National Forest Service guide sitting there as he kept nodding off for a bit of sleepy-time. He sort of came back to life to give his little speech once we were finally inside but I think he would have been happier just sleeping.

Inside the lower pedestal is the original torch that was replaced by the gold one that Liberty now holds. The upper floor houses a museum of the making of Liberty which is very interesting. We spent only a short amount of time here since we still had the observation deck to see and we wanted to be back at the ferry dock in time for 2:15 ferry. Another short wait to board the elevator that would take us up ten floors to the observation deck. Inside the building you can look up through the glass ceiling to see the inner structure of the statue and the spiral staircase people used to climb up! No thank you! Of course, visits to her crown are no longer possible, and the torch has been off-limits since 1916. Here is the inside of the great lady.

The view is really nice from the observation deck and we walked the whole way around it. It is very narrow and only two people can pass…barely. You must walk down about six flights of stairs to get back down to ground level. We were all pretty pooped out from the heat and the constant on-the-go-day, so we were glad to board the ferry [we timed it just right] and get back to our car. Too bad the return trip took us 2 hours instead of the hour that it should have taken due to construction, traffic, and an accident [someone else—not us!]. We finally arrived home hot and tired of being stuck in traffic at 5:00 p.m.

A very worthwhile trip despite the long ride home! And to think we live that close to sights like that! Two more photos of the Lady and I’ll leave you to it.

I guess I’m just one of those people that as a child I always colored inside the lines of my coloring book. I tried very hard not to let my crayon make any kind of mark beyond the lines. This could be more telling about my personality than I had realized before. As a child I pretty much obeyed rules that were set down by my elders and wasn’t easily swayed by the cliques in school that always seemed to be pushing the limits. Pretty boring kid, huh? I am not saying I was a saint, mind you, otherwise I wouldn’t have gotten an “A” in cathechism class with a “B” in conduct! Probably from talking too much.

I think many people that grew up in New Jersey had blank sheets of paper for coloring on instead of a coloring book with carefully drawn lines. Why, you ask? Because they like to drive over the lines clearly painted to designate my side of the road vs their side of the road. More often than not, they’ll have their wheels either right smack in the middle, or just over the line into my side. The first few times this happened I would grumble “stay on your side!” and continue to complain to Rick about their driving habits. He looked at me and asked me if I had never colored outside the lines. You know, he said, some people just color differently. Hence, my title. It got me to thinking that it would make a great personality/temperament test to sit people down with a coloring book and crayons and see what happens.

I would not think about taking up more than my fair share of the road. Obviously this does not enter into their realm of thought. But what happens when two people “coloring outside the lines” meet in the middle because neither one can keep to their own side? Some drivers hog the road more than others and you never know who you’re going to meet coming around a corner on narrow, twisty roads. Maybe I’m thinking a little deep here this morning, but this could apply to more than just driving.

So far, so good. I’ve learned to stay well onto my side just in case. Let them color as they choose as long as no one gets hurt. Who am I to judge? Maybe I’ll learn to color outside the lines too. Hmm…maybe not. Well, maybe just a little.

I think we’ve found a name for our bear. Not that she cares, but we do. Her name will be Ursa after the ancient bear-goddess and the constellation Ursa Major. Since both the bear goddess and our dogs [Bernese Moutain Dogs] have the area of Berne, Switzerland in common it seems to fit. Here is what I found after searching on the web:

“The bear goddess was known to the Greeks as Artemis (daughter of Zeus and Leto and the twin sister of Apollo) and in China as Matsu Po, Queen of Heaven and the Sea. According to one source, one of Artemis’s frequent animal incarnations was the Great She-bear (constellation Ursa Major), ruler of the stars and protectress of the axis mundi, Pole of the World. The Helvetian (Swiss) tribes around what is now Berne, worshipped her as the She-Bear, and she is still their heraldic arms. Berne, in fact, means ‘She-bear’, just as Urus means ‘bear’. Sometimes the Helvetians called her Artio, shortened to ‘Art’ by the Celtic tribes who married her to the Bear-king, Arthur. As Artio’s Lord of the Hunt, the medieval god of witches came to be called, ‘Robin son of Art’. In Irish, Art meant ‘God’, but its earlier meaning was ‘Goddess’ – more specifically the Bear-goddess.”

Note: This happened yesterday but I am posting it this morning.
Scary, scary thing. I knew it had to happen someday. I just wasn’t expecting it this afternoon. I fed the dogs as usual and let them outside to give out their biscuits [they make such a crumby mess we don’t do this inside]. I hadn’t even finished handing them out when Daisy flew off the deck, down the stairs, barking madly. The rest of the dogs followed close behind her. A mad barking dash to the back of the yard and into the woods. First I think it’s just a squirrel. I think I hear a noise but can’t tell. The dogs are all lined up behind one another, bravest first, pointed in the same direction. Still barking like mad. Fear kicks me in the gut. It’s got to be more than a squirrel for that kind of barking. I fly down the steps to see what the problem is.

OH MY GOD, THE BEAR, right here, in the yard and the dogs are not even 30 feet from her! And neither am I! She has just started to climb up the tree and is still at the bottom. Panic attack. Think quick, Lynne. Okay, COME HERE COME HERE QUICK, I scream! Raising my voice just seems the right thing to do. A soft, gentle, coaxing voice would not work in this situation as they know when I’m really upset I usually SCREAM.

Most of the dogs leave their quarry and start towards me. A few stay behind, standing their ground and barking. Alex starts back down towards the bear. NO ALEX COME ON, LET’S GO! After a little more persuasion and a lot more screaming they realize that they need to listen to me and they all run [barking of course] with me back up to the house. WHEW. I count heads. Yep, all seven are here. I let them in the house and make a mad dash for my camera. OHO, you say, she’s not going back out there to try and get a photo, is she? Of course I am, don’t be silly.

At this point all I know is that it’s a big bear, so I figure it has to be Momma again. She’s one big girl. Gorgeous. I walk into the yard. Not too close, but close enough to use my telephoto lens. I now know that if a bear is at the foot of a tree I should look up. Yep, there’re the cubs. Little monkeys. Cutest little buggers! She doesn’t seem concerned at all that I am there. I try a couple of shots. Here is one that came out. Note: The hostas in front of her are at the edge of the grass part of our yard.

I retreat and go poolside so I at least have a barrier between us, just in case. I watch her as she roams around in the dense foliage. She must be after the berry bushes. I remember thinking that they would make a great bear lure when they came ripe, and so they did. I think they’re black caps, but it’s such a tangle down there that I haven’t been down to find out. I try a few shots of the monkeys in the tree. It’s hard not to focus on leaves, but here are two pics. In the one photo they aren’t too clear, but you can make out three distinct black bobs. They form a triangle with two cubs on the bottom and one cub up above.

I wonder how long will they stay this time? My yard seems to be a great place to try out tree climbing variations, as well as chill out in the shade on a hot day.  And so we wait. Ho, hum. Dum de dum. I let about 15 minutes pass before I venture out into the yard again. I look up. Nope, no cubs in the tree. Okay. I grab my bear clanger-thingeys and take off, clanging as I go. Don’t want to sneak up on them unannounced. AHHH, what’s that? Geez, Lynne, calm down, it’s only the tree stump that gets you every time. Right now all the upturned tree stumps look like bears. Blackish, hulking shapes in the woods. My heart thuds harder in my chest each time my eyes land on one. I wait to see if the shape moves. But despite all my false bear sighting, Momma and cubs are nowhere to be found. At least in my yard proper that is.

I hereby declare that “the bear has left the yard” [kind of like “Elvis has left the building.”]  and it’s safe to let the dogs out again. They run to the exact place they last saw the bear. Much sniffing and snuffling takes place. My brave dogs. They treed Momma Bear!  Amazing. Somehow they knew it wasn’t just a dog or an ordinary visitor to the yard. They seemed to sense the danger and stayed their distance. All the more amazing to me is that the bear did not charge the dogs to protect her cubs. Maybe en masse they made a formidable enough deterrent that she didn’t want to mess with them. I’m just glad that nothing happened. I gain more respect for Momma each time we come into contact with each other.

She needs a name. Our neighbors have named the bear that was hibernating under their deck after the woman who used to own the house. Doris. What name shall we call “our” bear by? It needs to be dignified, calm but in the same note a nod toward her fertility in having three cubs which I think is pretty unusual. Help me out, here! Any suggestions? I"m not really up on ancient Goddess names but one should fit.

I think we need to hang a bell on the part of the fence where she enters the yard. Maybe it will scare her sufficiently that she doesn’t climb over. Until the next encounter Momma!