Snow in Them Thar Hills

On the train ride up, I began making notes for my upcoming paper for Valpo.  Of course, I didn't bring any blank paper, so I was writing in the margins of an outdated train schedule I'd brought with me.  

I got my camera out when we stopped at Peekskill - I was so taken with the metalwork at the station.  

A vine grows in Peekskill.

As we pulled away, I tried snapping a picture of a sculpted diver, but it was really fuzzy.  I put the camera away and settled back to enjoy the ride.

And that's when I saw a bald eagle, perched on a tree overlooking the Hudson River.  So cool!!!  Alas, no photo.

 * * * 

For today's hike, I had very little daylight available to me because I got such a late start.  So I took Washburn (2.3 miles, white blaze) to Nelsonville (2.6 miles, green blaze) for a very simple loop.
Details: It was about 1.5 total miles of road walking to and from the train station.  I actually left the pedometer running the whole day until I got home, and clocked a total of about 9 miles.

The stark winter landscape was softened by fallen leaves...

...and fog 

Toward the upper reaches of the Washburn Trail, I began to see little patches of snow, which soon gave way to bigger patches:

I suddenly remembered a book I read as a kid (Ghost Town Treasure, by Clyde Robert Bulla) where two children find the diary of a now-deceased relative, who had gone out prospecting or something.  Thrillingly, one of the last entries says "Gold in the cave" -- and our hero's family is facing dire economic straits -- so the kids spend most of the book looking for the cave, and eventually find it.  Somehow they figure out at the end that the entry actually said "Cold in the cave."

On Frozen Pond?  Supposedly it was 43 F today.

The road goes ever on and on

Mount Taurus

There were patches of snow on the Nelsonville Trail, even at lower elevations.

I spent most of the trail time listening to the Tolkien Professor podcast, specifically the last few sessions of his Faerie and Fantasy class, where he talked about Sabriel, by Garth Nix.  I had an idea for a paper (comparing Sabriel with Silver Chair), although I'm wondering if there might be a third one to throw into the mix.

Some additional connections came to mind as well - Kerrigor with Rowling's Dementors, for example (because of the attempted kiss). Kerrigor is probably worth some additional thought; he was  apparently seeking to enslave Sabriel rather than to suck out her soul, and the scene is described in a way that actually brings to mind an attempted rape, rendered extra creepy by Kerigor's suggestion of a family relationship between them.

Dr Olsen pointed out some Shakespeare connections I'd missed, particularly the name Abhorsen and Touchstone.  Abhorson is an executioner who appears in a single scene of Measure for Measure; he is offered a bawd as a helper, and insists that execution is a mystery.*  I don't feel bad for missing that one, as I've only seen the play twice and I don't recall seeing that particular scene.  But Touchstone is the fool in As You Like It, and I should have picked up on that.

Dr Olsen also mentioned that Rogir and Touchstone were brothers, one (I assume) legitimate, the other the Queen's bastard, but raised in the same household.  That reminds me, of course, that in Shakespeare, it would be the bastard brother who goes rogue -- but in Nix, it is the bastard brother who is good.

On my way back to the train station, I stopped at Le Bouchon for a salad and a glass of wine.  Bliss.

Just had time to change clothes and go out again for a Camerata Notturna concert.  Wonderful, esp. the Schubert Symphony No. 9.


FN* Provost describes Abhorson to Pompey as "a common executioner, who in his office lacks a helper."  When Provost makes his pitch to Abhorson that Pompey could be Abhorson's helper, the following dialogue ensues:

PROVOST: [Pompey] cannot plead his estimation with you; he hath been a bawd.
ABHORSON: A bawd, sir? fie upon him! he will discredit our mystery.
PROVOST:  Go to, sir; you weigh equally; a feather will turn the scale.

Provost then exits to let the bawd and the executioner speak alone, and Pompey is understandably curious to hear what is so mysterious about execution by hanging:

POMPEY: ... what mystery there should be in hanging, if I should be hanged, I cannot imagine.
ABHORSON:  Sir, it is a mystery.
POMPEY: Proof?
ABHORSON:  Every true man's apparel fits your thief: if it be too little for your thief, your true man thinks it big enough; if it be too big for your thief, your thief thinks it little enough: so every true man's apparel fits your thief.

Measure for Measure, Act IV, scene ii.