Our plan for the spring break was to return to Breath of Heaven B&B, which we had fled in a snowstorm, as you may remember, and to explore West Virginia in better weather. On the way there, we stopped at Antietam National Battlefield, the site of the bloodiest one day battle in US history. The battle took place in fields surrounding farmhouses, many of which are still the homes of the same families today. There is a self-guided drive around the battlefield, and we spent most of the day there, driving from site to site, going up an observation tower, and viewing the sycamore that also witnessed the Burnside's Bridge stage of the battle. For the first time, we also made use of A's GPS and looked for geocaches - finding one right next to the visitor centre. That turned out to be the only geocache we actually removed and replaced - all the other ones we found were on hiking trails and inaccessible.
Our hosts at the B&B greeted us very happily, and asked if French toast casserole would be a good breakfast next morning. As we were not planning on proper lunches, and we were not sure what we would find in the vicinity for supper, breakfast was a vital part of the day, and French toast casserole sounded excellent (I would have liked to have observed Pesach a bit more, but recognise that it is almost impossible to do so away from home). We started Tuesday with a visit to Blackwater Falls, which we had thought was a tributary of the north fork of the south branch of the Potomac (had gadya, had gadya...), but it actually on the other side of the watershed and drains into the Ohio, which joins the Mississippi and eventually reaches the Gulf of Mexico. The water is dark-coloured from the sediment it picks up along the way, and the falls were beautiful. A particularly impressive sight just by the waterfall was a sheet of ice along the canyon wall, slowly melting and dripping away. Had we come a week earlier, no doubt all the way would have been covered in ice. We had a very pleasant hike along a cross-country skiing path, where the ground was squishy beneath our feet, but it was not really muddy. At this point, everything was still hibernating, so we saw very few birds and no flowers that day.
We then continued to Canaan Valley Wildlife Refuge, where we hoped to see beaver lodges (this excited A very much. He has an unexplained obsession with beavers). Unfortunately, it had rained heavily in the previous few days, and the paths assumed that everyone was driving a 4x4 or pickup - that is, at the point where we decided that we could no longer go forward, there were other cars coming towards us. We tried our luck at another entrance and eventually were third time lucky: the rain which had begun, stopped, and we found a boardwalk with an interpretive trail, whose leaflet S was very happy to read with much drama and pathos. The leaflet was actually extremely informative (although meant more for later in the year), and I was particularly pleased to have the different kinds of moss pointed out. We don't have a guide to mosses and lichens (because birds, butterflies and flowers is our limit), so it always frustrates me to see them and not know what I am seeing.
Next day was our major hiking day, starting at Seneca Rocks. As we drove there, we were very surprised to see a long line of wind turbines, which had been completely invisible in the whiteout of our previous trip, although obviously the were there all along. We were still slightly off-season, so the visitor centre was closed, but as we were not planning mountaineering, there was in fact only one path to the top, which had us all taking off outer layers. I need hiking shorts! Once I finish sewing the skirt I am making at the moment (4 hours work so far, and no sewing, as I had to print and glue the PDF pattern from 30-odd A4 pages, and then cut out the pattern pieces and the fabric), I will try my hand at a longer version of the pyjama shorts. But I digress ... Seneca Rocks was really lovely, although it was amusing to read the signs about tree stumps that had long since rotted away. There was a geocache there, too, but it seemed that you needed to rappel to it, so we left it alone.
Seneca Rocks' outdated signs were better than those at Spruce Knob, where we drove to the top of the highest mountain in West Virginia, to an observation tower, and walked along another interpretative trail - but this time there was no leaflet, and actually no signs! We reached the peak and looked across rolling hills in every direction, and had no real idea of what we were seeing, beyond Pennsylvania on one side and the Shenandoah on the other. We also saw rainclouds coming closer, and decided not to continue to Spruce Knob Lake, but to take a scenic route back to Petersburg and eat at an Italian restaurant for a change. On the way down one mountainside and up another, between Ross Road and Judy Road, I saw a sign indicating "Road Not Taken". Spruce Knob is so called for the large number of balsam spruces, which are endemic to West Virginia, that grow there. We saw balsam spruces at Canaan Valley, too, where there is a program to preserve and re-introduce them.
Thursday morning continued rainy, so our plans to hike at Dolly Sods had to be cancelled. Instead, we went to Lost River State Park, which turned out to be an out-of-season holiday camp with a fitness trail - rather like a Keren Kayemet forest in Israel, up to and including the pine trees. It felt a bit post-apocalyptic in the light drizzle, being the only people around. I would have liked to have seen the Lee House, a summerhouse built by Lighthorse Harry, father of Robert E. Lee, but of course that was closed, too. I should back track a bit here to report one of the highlights of the trip: as we were leaving Breath of Heaven, A saw a bird's nest with eggs in it just at the edge of the driveway and warned ADC to be careful. As the car began to roll slowly forward, the mother bird (a killdeer) burst into the driveway and tried to distract the predator, going so far as to lie down and play dead in the missile of the road. Unfortunately, this is a tactic more likely to get her killed than anything else ...
On our hosts' recommendation, we continued to Winchester, where we started at the Museum of the Shenandoah Valley. The Museum has three component: a museum proper, with exhibitions about the social and cultural history of the Shenandoah Valley; an early-twentieth century millionaire's mansion, Glen Burnie, and the gardens of the house. The museum also holds a collection of miniature houses and rooms collected by Julian Wood Glass, who bequeathed Glen Burnie and its garden to the museum. We had not been expecting anything as interesting as what we found there. The miniature houses were amazingly detailed and lovely, and included a scale model of Tara, with portraits of Rhett Butler and Scarlett O'Hara. The house had a very beautiful exhibition of contemporary botanical drawings, which I personally found fascinating, and a good segue into the gardens. They were not at the best, of course, but the Chinese garden and the war garden were already charming. We still had some time before we needed to get to Joe's Steakhouse in Front Royal, so we went into Winchester historic centre, where we wandered around for a bit, and found an olive oil and balsamic vinegar emporium. We spent quite a bit of time tasting the different oils and vinegars, eventually buying three to take home. That kept us going until we reached the steakhouse where, as A said, "I had the best steak of my life last time I was here, and this time it was even better!"
As we drove east from West Virginia and came down from the mountains, we saw that spring had begun in Maryland, and on Saturday we went to see the cherry blossoms in the Tidal Basin, together with several thousands of other people. It felt like the Old City during hol ha-mo'ed (and this was without going to see the parade). The cherry blossoms are truly glorious. I hadn't realised that there were a number of varieties - with more added as the older trees die - and the different colours, shapes and scents came together in a very beautiful display. I got pollen on my nose smelling the blossoms; despite the similarity, they are far less scented than almond and apple blossoms. As we were already at the Mall, we also went to see the Vietnam War memorial, which we had missed on our previous visit, in the autumn. I remember reading a National Geographic article about it, so knew that the names were in chronological order, but I hadn't realised that the list began an ended in the middle of the monument, forming a loop. ADC took a picture of one of the names for a little old lady, as neither she nor her friends were tall enough to hold their phone in the right place.
The rest of the weekend was very musical: On Saturday we heard Bach's St John Passion at Strathmore Music Centre (where we saw the Chieftains), performed by the National Philharmonic and Chorale. Rather ridiculously, it reminded me of Jesus Christ Superstar (while of course the inspiration is the other way around). The program notes very earnestly discussed the anti-Semitism of the text. My feeling is that if your libretto is the Gospel according to John - which was written after the destruction of the Temple and Roman conquest of Judea - there is no way you can accuse the Romans of anything and of course the Jews will be blamed. I must say that following along (we were provided with the full German text with English translation), I was, on the one hand, very impressed that the Evangelist (narrator) knew his part well enough to not have any music at all in front of him, and on the other hand, even more confused about the timeline of the Passion. I had always thought that the Last Supper was a Seder, but from the wording, it appears that it was the day before the Seder? Anyway, clearly I am more interested in words than in music and I'm sure C would be horrified that this is how I am responding.
Sunday was of course the Battle of the Bands, in which ADC got to play bass live on stage in an Irish pub. ADC has been playing bass for about a year and a half now, partly self-taught, and when we arrived in DC he looked for a group to play with (bass players are always in demand). He plays every couple of weeks with DC Rockers, which is a fairly loose group of people who meet occasionally in varying combinations to play pre-agreed songs together. The group includes over 50 people, and there are anything between 5 and 10 people who show up for each session. A couple of months ago, the organizers of DC Rockers announced that we were going to have a live “Battle of the Bands” event at a local pub. Members of the group were invited to form ad-hoc bands, rehearse a set-list and then play live in front of their fellow rockers (and friends and families). Here is the link to his set. If you want to hear what the other bands sounded like (and have two hours to spare), you can click on the DC Rockers channel link there. I'll just say that I had a lot of fun, and my ears were ringing when we came out! A funny thing happened: when I was checking the bill, I saw that the waitressed had not charged me for the hot chocolate with Bailey's I had drunk. When I pointed this out to her, she was so impressed that she charged me only for a regular hot chocolate. I think this is a case of honesty being its own reward.
On Monday life went back to normal. The children received their third-quarter report cards on Tuesday, and happily these were as boringly good as usual. I started work on the material I had begun receiving during the break and ignored: I have two book manuscripts, an article and a grant proposal to edit before coming to Israel (this is why this letter has been delayed), with another article and a PhD dissertation in the pipeline. Today was a relatively quiet day: I stayed home and sewed (now I feel like a character in a nursery rhyme) while ADC went with the children to celebrate Record Store Day ( hey went to the comics shop, and also S had an eye test). In the afternoon we watched Some Like It Hot, which was enjoyed very much by all. The line about losing ponies playing water polo has been repeated ad nauseum by now, and the closing scene has lost nothing in the 56 years since it was first screened.
