February 2015

February 20, 2015February 10, 2021

Bean Cemetery

I’m drawn to the quiet dignity of rural cemeteries. It doesn’t matter if I don’t know anyone there. It doesn’t matter if it’s the Bean Cemetery in Rome Township near Guysville in Athens County, Ohio, or it’s the Hitt Cemetery near Arbor or it’s the High Hill Cemetery north of Neely’s Landing. I’m not big on ghosts and spirits, but I feel a kinship walking among those strangers.

You can click on the photos to make them larger.

Feeling the bonds

When I did a story about the Cruse Cemetery near Toga returning to nature, reader Larry Points left a comment that shows he has experienced those same feelings:

“…one will find the Gravel Hill Cemetery on a knoll with a scenic overlook of the countryside. In it is a tombstone for a nine-year-old girl who died in the 1880s. Upon the stone is this eroded inscription: “Beautiful lovely she was but given, a fair bud to earth to bloom in heaven.” Standing alone at such a stone, in such a setting, imagining shared grief gathered round so long ago, one is drawn to the emotional ties which bond we humans one to another.”

Bean Cemetery

I didn’t find a lot of online information about the cemetery. FindaGrave reports there are 104 internments in the cemetery, with about half of them photographed.

As you might suspect, there are a lot of Beans buried there. (Curator Jessica commented, “They grow lots of Beans in that part of the county. Actually, that is true, in both senses of the word.”

The fields aren’t green today

Athens County gets Cape weather about two days after Cape. The lush green fields I photographed at the end of August have seen snow in the past few days and there’s more on the way.

The temperatures in West Palm Beach as I type this are a chilly 45 and falling. That’s a lot better than Athens, where it is -2 and falling (wind chill -15), headed for a low of -11 before sunrise.

Maybe Florida isn’t so bad after all.

February 18, 2015

Hill and Hill Model

When I dipped into the General Sign Company box loaned by Terry Hopkins, the bright colors of the Hill and Hill Kentucky bourbon caught my eye. Since the sign company roamed all over the region, I don’t know where this particular building lived.

Painter brought along a model

It was only when the picture was enlarged on the computer monitor that I saw that the sign painter had brought along a model.

Check out the bourbon bottle on the ground under the sign. (Click on the photos to make them larger.)

I wonder if it made is back home safely?

February 17, 2015

We’re the Same Age

For 36 days a year (37 during Leap Year), Wife Lila and I are the same age.

I won’t tell you what that age is this year, but if we once believed that you couldn’t trust anyone over 30, we are more than twice as untrustworthy as we were when we said that.

One thing about it, she can sure blow out a candle quickly and leave not so much as a tendril of smoke behind. Neighbor Bill/Jacqie provided the cake; the boys took her out for dinner and gave her a Fitbit to document that she’s still moving, and I got her a coffee table art book on The Florida Highwaymen.

It was a good day.

February 17, 2015

A Herd of Ibis

One of the first things I did when I woke up this morning was to check the weather in Cape to see how much snow had fallen. Mother said she was up most of the night. “I’d go to sleep for a couple of hours, then wake up and sit at the window watching the big flakes swirl down.”

I spent some time listening over the Internet to the Cape cops and the Missouri Highway Patrol. Sounded like a lot of folks didn’t heed the advice to stay off the road. It must have been a good day to own a wrecker company (and a bad day to be a wrecker truck driver).

“Look in the front yard. NOW!”

While my mind was focused on cold and snow, Wife Lila headed out the door to walk on the beach. A few minutes after I heard the door slam, I got a text message: “Look in the front yard. NOW!”

That’s usually not a good message. Still, I hurried to look out the window.

Holy Cow! The front yard is covered in white. Drifting white. Drifting white with feet and beaks.

It’s an ibis invasion

It was an invasion of American White Ibis. They are common in South Florida, but we don’t usually get them in our yard. They prefer wetlands where they can feed on small fish, crayfish and aquatic insects.

I kept looking to see what they were eating out of our yard, but I couldn’t tell. Several sites I checked said they are “tactile, not visual feeders,” which means they swish their bill around until it hits something worth consuming. They moved across the yard in a hurry, so we must not have been a good cafe.

They sound like spring breakers

A Wikipedia entry reported that “a field study late in the Florida nesting season revealed that on an average day, adult American white ibis spent 10.25 hours looking for food, 0.75 hours flying, 13 hours resting, roosting, and attending to their nests. Much of the time roosting is spent preening, biting and working their feathers with their long bills, as well as rubbing the oil glands on the sides of their heads on back plumage. American white ibis generally only preen themselves, not engaging in allopreening unless part of courtship behavior. Bathing often takes place before preening; ibis squat in water 2–7.9 in) deep and flick water over themselves with each wing in succession. Hundreds of birds may bathe together around the time of courtship.”

Dark ones are youngsters

You might have noticed some dark and some mottled birds in the group.

The story above mentioned “The gray to sandy gray brown juvenile plumage appears between weeks two and six, and face and bill become pink a few weeks later, while the legs remain gray. The irises have turned slate-gray by this stage. Once fledged, the juvenile American white ibis has largely brown plumage and only the rump, underwing and underparts are white. The legs become light orange. As it matures, white feathers begin appearing on the back and it undergoes a gradual molt to obtain the white adult plumage. This is mostly complete by the end of the second year, although some brown feathers persist on the head and neck until the end of the third year. Juvenile birds take around two years to reach adult size and weight.”

Well, at least I didn’t have to shovel the white stuff drifting in MY front yard.