Original Poetry: Inspirator

As it gets colder in the northern hemisphere, though we are over the hump of winter solstice, I thought I’d share a little figurative fire to brighten your holiday. I first drafted this poem from field notes written as an exercise at the nature writers’ conference I attended at the Cuyahoga Valley National Park in October 2016. Here are some excerpts.

Happy New Year. And Happy 100th Birthday to the National Park Service.

Inspirator

by C. L. Tangenberg
Giddy beige feathers of tall, 
unnamed fronds perched at a tilt, 
sprout their crowns in fanned-out spikes,
forging two beings into one: fire 
and ashy aftermath.

Two heads' lengths above 
these frozen flames, 
the color starts.

Green, rounded leaves of 
chartreuse underbellies and grey-
green backs, or faces—I can't 
tell which—huddle in discarded 
half-arches, craft of the stone mason 
who made too many, just in case. 
A half-hearted bow only 
at their very tops, partly 
praising a fractional work. 

On ground farther back, 
a grander stage presents 
the proud, living burns of 
orange-tipped yellow dancers. 
Some like to sway more than others, 
some feel the fueling wind. 

A tree not yet bronzed 
stands apart, flushed with 
a green, pre-fire readiness, 
and here, at the edge of its 
leaf clusters, starts to catch.

Beside, with lifeless pallor, 
bored out, burnt out, by burning 
beetle fever, the fire of hunger—
too-soon wintered, emaciated, 
desolate—ash trees jealously 
watch their flaming neighbors.

And foraging over all heads,
some unseen spirit slurps up 
and bloats full with grey smoke
from all this combustion below, 
from above, with the yellow-
white smoke of sunlight. 

The wind roars like a terrible
conflagration, and the grey, 
not white, smoke is winning. 

Stone-piles at my feet see up 
to the short spray of grasses,
hints of feathers on higher fliers,
and my shadow. 

Blown quiet, I walk 
most unhurried, 
back, into no fire.

 

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Image by C. L. Tangenberg, Cuyahoga Falls, Ohio, autumn 2003

Scottish Color: A Photo Essay

From my trip photo collection, sample the colors and textures of Scotland.

Stirling Castle and environs is one of the most colorful places on Scottish soil. From the castle’s view of varied shades of green hills and darker trees, to rows of gray houses below and its flagged, green terraces above flower gardens, to the sumptuous tapestries, royal bedroom furniture, majestic banners, interactive kids’ exhibits, period re-enactors, to paintings and fabrics on wall, floor, and ceiling, this historic seat of power is well worth more than one visit. And don’t forget the Wallace National Monument on the next tree-covered hill to the northeast.

Besides being uniquely spectacular in mountain majesty, Glencoe is Glen Colorful. Most striking to me in contrast to shorter deciduous-covered hills of the Ohio Valley and the sharper, starker, browner Rocky Mountains in the States are the blankets of green that cover the slopes of many of these ancient peaks in the Scottish Highlands. It’s my kind of green mountain.

Some leafy trees sprinkle about them, creep up their sedimentary seams where the water rushes to the bottom. But some later-installed conifers in Argyll, the Cairngorms, and periodically up the Great Glen impose themselves like patches of black-on-black tartan made too small for its wearer. Forestry efforts compete with natural beauty. The most prized evergreens are the Caledonian forests of Scots pine, now mere remnants in the country.

All over Scotland, with a high average rainfall, green is the go-to background color. Lichens, mosses, grasses and ferns are just a few of the non-arboreal results of this pervasive canvas. Princes Street Gardens in Edinburgh and the plethora of green spaces in Glasgow, which means “dear green place” from the (correction) “green hollow” in Gaelic, attest to green’s primacy in Scotland.

Red is another dominant hue in both wild and domestic Scotland. Red deer, red squirrels, Highland cows, some spray-painted sheep, and various burgundy, rust, and orange and yellow flora mingle with the greens. Ferns fade into bracken with the fall, and heather pops magenta-purple and then fizzles grey into autumn across the country’s vast moors and storied glens. Sandstone is the other big red. The Beauly Priory is a breathtaking example of ruins made largely of red sandstone.

Lilac purples add magic to the greens and reds in both sun and shade, not just with the plentiful heather but with foxgloves, gems in cultivated gardens, and of course, the national flower, the thistle. But many flowers and plants retain their bright colors well into winter, re-blooming periodically, and the typical temperate-zone transition from green summer into red, yellow, orange, and brown fall happens in Scotland, too.

Sheep are everywhere, like the grass they munch, and you probably know what that looks like. The flocks power the long-standing textile industry of wool and tweed in Scotland. Tartan long ago sported muted tones that blended with the natural landscape. After having been banned by the Crown following the Jacobites’ defeat at the 1746 Battle of Culloden, tartan’s revival in the late 1800s brought with it a flashier spectrum. Today, even women and girls can benefit from the plentiful choices in feminine shades among the clan-based plaids available at tourist shopping hot spots.

The waters of life in the land of Scots range from root-beer rapids of brown and foam along the walking paths at Carie Forest near Loch Rannoch, Perthshire, to the golden gamut of whiskies forged in distilleries from the islands to the northern Highlands, to the deep-sea and turquoise blues of clear-sky-reflecting burns, rivers, firths, bays, and lochs. Modern Scotland has done its best with drinking water bottled from mountain sources, and then its worst in the hopelessly sugary, bubble-gum-flavored orange soda that is the national drink, Irn Bru.

The British tea tradition also persists, alive and well in both city and countryside. A venture to Glasgow’s Willow Tea Room, designed by the celebrated Charles Rennie Mackintosh, gave my husband good Kenyan black tea and me some aromatic Jasmine green tea, neatly cut finger sandwiches, and a gluten-free chocolate brownie topped with clotted cream. I finished all of my teapot’s worth with pleasure, and I’m not even much of a tea drinker.

I guess it was the blend of artistic atmosphere, my first real experience of tea time, and a well-chosen tea. Making it more memorable was an inchworm Jason discovered on his jacket from recent outdoor adventures. In and out of sight, we kept him alive till I dropped him accidentally on the stairway as we left. His ultimate fate is a mystery.

It was also in Glasgow that we learned about the Glasgow Boys group of artists and the Scottish colourists featured in Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum. Influences from French Impressionists to “Whistler’s Mother,” and of course Scottish landscapes, informed their work over the years. There are life waters, watercolours, and water horses in Scotland. Modern architecture like the Kelpies, at the Helix car park and recreation center near Falkirk, celebrates the country’s artistic and industrial traditions, while one white and one black horse graze at the site of the Culloden Battlefield.

Wild bird coloring is not all that different from home. The British robin redbreast is a distinctly different species from our American robin, a rounder, more petite orange-breasted songbird with a song that sounds prettier to my untrained ear than that of the omnipresent States-side version. I knew about that difference before landing in Scotland, but I was surprised to see the dapper-looking pheasant hanging around the farm bird feeders at the breakfast windows of our luxury B&B near Inverness.

Not quite ring-necked, this male turns out to be the common pheasant of the UK, introduced to Roman Britain as a game bird from Asia. His aristocratic associations befitted our romantic, up-scale portion of the trip, evidenced by the rich red and white furnishings amidst the dark four posts of the bed and the crystalline bed-side dimmer lamps. They even gave us complimentary Ferrero Rocher truffles and a crystal of sherry and two champagne glasses.

There’s a variety of local color in soccer jerseys on display at the National Museum of Scottish Football at Hampden Park, Glasgow, home of the Queen’s Park Rangers and the Scottish National Team. But some of the most colorful parts of Scotland are still its people. The dialects, sensibilities, hotel and B&B personnel, street performers, musicians including guitarists, accordianists, bagpipers, and fiddlers, cab drivers, store cashiers, theatre players, tourism workers from receptionists to historical figure actors, mostly courteous drivers we encountered, and everyday people were always, for better or worse, innocuous, pleasant, and helpful. Good for us tourists, certainly.

Whites, blacks, and greys in the buildings, ruins, and stone monuments pulled us back in time to the mysteries of archaeological evolution. That is, the presence alone of chambered cairns and standing stone circles fascinates, but it’s even more interesting to learn of the layers of change their shapes represent, the multiple peoples and purposes that swept through a given place, obscuring the earlier inhabitants and users, muddling the picture of a Pict or a Scot or an Angle or a Roman. The clues keep bubbling to the surface in diverse ways, and their hunt can become an obsession, and a literary inspiration in the cases of authors such as Diana Gabaldon of the Outlander series.

Whether you’re one for science or for literature, which Gabaldon and I both are, the romance of the past is real, palpable, just as the puzzles, if not the ghosts, left by the remnants beckon the solvers forward. Ruins, especially religious ones even to this agnostic, possess the most affecting beauty of all historic buildings, and the monoliths are at least figuratively magnetic. Ruins speak in a steady voice of struggle, violence, survival, and death. They show the creativity, innovation, reverence, passions, sorrows, and daily subsistence of peoples long gone, and sometimes they demonstrate long periods of thriving, the revival of resilient groups, and the diligence of those dedicated to preserving history and memory.

At the Clava Cairns, I touched some of the piled stones as I walked into the center of one chambered cairn, but semi-unconsciously, I avoided touching the split standing stones. The stones at this site are said to have inspired Gabaldon’s invention of Craigh na Dun, the central plot mechanism–strange and terrifying–of the entire Outlander saga. The ubiquitous nature of stone and stonework in Scotland adds an indescribable charm to visiting this old country when one’s own is so young by contrast, but the stories they inspired are what sent me there.

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The Writers’ Museum, Edinburgh

There’s no generalizing Scotland, and yet the tourist tends heavily toward equating places with their people. In the end, they are inextricable, multi-dimensional, many-layered and intriguing enough to merit repeat exploration.

Besides, I just love to hear Scots speak, even if I don’t understand them the first time, or, in the case of Glaswegians, the second or third. Although I’ve seen a lot, I hope I’ll get another chance to practice listening in Scotland.

All photos copyright C.L. Tangenberg

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Scotland Ventured, Scotland Gained

October 10, 2016

We’re back! Stay tuned for upcoming posts on things like driving stories, travel tips, restaurant, lodging and attraction reviews, Outlander tour ideas, whiskey (whisky) sampling results, favorite close-ups and vistas, Gaelic language lessons, pleasant surprises, and oodles of images from two weeks spent exploring the land of Scots and so much more.

Alba gu brath!


November 2016 update: Posts of our Scotland excursion are linked below, through the far-right, top-menu tab “Scotland,” and on the Philosofishal home page.

Before the trip:

  1. Book Review: Fodors Travel Essential Great Britain
  2. The Labor of Learning to Set Limits
  3. Five-Phrase Friday (38): Scotland

After the trip:

  1. Morning Fog, Loch Long, Arrochar – snapshot from the Seabank B&B, Trossachs National Park (posted Oct 11, 2016)
  2. Scottish Color: A Photo Essay – overview of sensory highlights (posted Oct 12, 2016)
  3. The Paps of Jura – sea-and-mountains vista; language lesson (posted Oct 15, 2016)
  4. Linlithgow Palace, a.k.a. Wentworth Prison – profile of a lesser-known Outlander STARZ filming site (posted Oct 20, 2016)
  5. Famous Poets’ Nature Poetry, 5: Of Mice, Men and Rabbie Burns – reading “To a Mouse” & The Writers’ Museum (posted Oct 24, 2016)
  6. Kurdish in Edinburgh – restaurant review (posted Nov 4, 2016)
  7. Dial up the sun – original poem & photos from the National Museum of Scotland (posted Nov 9, 2016)
  8. An Outlander Tourist in Scotland, Part 1 – my take on Outlander tourism, presenting filming sites in Central Scotland (posted December 1, 2016)
  9. An Outlander Tourist in Scotland, Part 2 – continuing in Central Scotland with filming sites in Glasgow, then southward to the Ayrshire coast and Dumfries & Galloway (posted December 23, 2016)
  10. An Outlander Tourist in Scotland, Part 3 – wrapping up orientation with sites in the Highlands, from Perthshire to Ross & Cromarty to Inverness (posted Feb 11, 2017)
  11. An Outlander Tourist in Scotland, Part 4 – the story of my trip planning process, snapshots of planned vs. actual itinerary, summary of our experience, and reflections on improvements (posted March 11, 2017)
  12. Wildlife TV Programs This Week – a heads-up for Wild Scotland on NatGeoWild. See the end section about select Scotland nature and wildlife tourism options with brief descriptions and links to resources. (posted March 27, 2017)
  13. Review: Slainte Scotland Outlander Tour + Outlander Tourism Resources – our Outlander tour and Slainte Scotland company review, notes on OL sites we visited alone, profiles of most popular OL filming sites, list of 40 OL filming sites, resources for OL book and inspiration sites, other OL tour company links, articles on the show, plus how to survive Droughtlander (posted April 11, 2017)
  14. next up: An Outlander Tourist in Scotland, Part 5, final post in the series, focusing on Scottish and more general travel tips and resources

Updated February, April 2017 – Plus, coming soon:

  • our Outlander tour review
  • profiles of Outlander filming sites
  • the nuts and bolts of Outlander tourism

Celebrating Alba:

  • B&B, hotel & transport reviews
  • Argyll with OL‘s Àdhamh Ó Broin
  • monuments, museums & galleries
  • fairy hills & stone circles
  • Edinburgh down “close”
  • musical theater at The Lyceum
  • hiking & other adventures
  • apps I liked (& those I didn’t)
  • wildlife viewing options
  • the driving experience
  • my whisky tasting report
  • Inverness dining delights

Five-Phrase Friday (29): Polished Puns

A little lighter fare this week with puns. You know, those words and phrases we love to hate and can’t resist? According to Reverso (a reverse dictionary), a pun is

“the use of words or phrases to exploit ambiguities and innuendoes in their meaning, usually for humorous effect; a play on words. An example is: “Ben Battle was a soldier bold, And used to war’s alarms: But a cannonball took off his legs, So he laid down his arms.” (Thomas Hood).”

Other sources describe puns as words or phrases expressing a double meaning, also known as double entendre. My home-made definition based on direct observation and interpretation of punny examples themselves is this:

Puns are plays on words that take common words, phrases, and cliche’d or idiomatic expressions and change one or more parts in order to introduce a new meaning or replace the existing one, often in a cheeky, corny, or goofy manner.

Like some commercial paint color names, finger- and toenail color names often don’t read like names or even color identifiers. It seems like a domain of pure fun and silliness, but who knows what dark neuroses lurk in the halls of the corporate cosmetics world?

Now, I’m no nail polish fiend or expert, but after a brief review, I’ve reached what I feel are some reasonably accurate conclusions:

  1. Product advertisers have way too much (or not enough?) time on their hands.
  2. Some nail lacquer labels feature some of the worst puns I’ve ever seen or heard. (I shall spare you.)
  3. Names may be what most attract us to specific colors, but they by no means determine which colors are best on the finger or toe–or other surfaces.
  4. There are two reasonably priced nail lacquer sellers that favor the pun form of color naming and seem to be the best among their competitors at it. (Feel free to chime in with better ones; it’s not exactly something I wanted to research ad nauseum.)

Those companies are OPI and Essie. Sounds like a 20th-century comic strip, no? Essie takes my cake with the best and worst of punning nail lacquer names. OPI trends toward corny, but there’s a more consistent thread of good taste there than Essie cares to attempt. Essie pulls out all the stops on touchy subjects, trashy sexiness, and the worst of reality TV innuendo. Essie might be what you wear when you’re trying too hard to be bad.

Puns in nail color can take a few different forms. Here are some examples.

A. in phrases, as words that stand in for descriptors for flowers as an expression of feminine beauty:

example: In Full Blue-M

B. as single words warped, sometimes too forcefully, into new forms to express color meanings; often, the vowels are what shift most:

example: On Pines and Needles → you know it’s going to be a piney green color

C. and the use of common homophones (or nearly so) among basic colors that can join with other words to form punning phrases. Some color punning techniques involve equivalents like these:

Back = Black; Move = Mauve; Very = Berry; Think = Pink; Blew = Blue; Read = Red; Till = Teal; Beach = Peach; Haute = Hot; Taupe = Top; Great = Grape

This week’s five phrases are my nominees (of those I’ve found) for best performance by a nail polish color name in the category of pun using a place name.

Again, this involves no judgment of the color itself. The list may not motivate you to perfect your geography, but you may find yourself curious either to know what’s being named (assuming you’re not a geography trivia champion like my husband) or to get the basis for the pun–or see what other damage the English language suffers from color names.

See if you know each basic hue and pun involved. (No quiz from me.)

  1. Essie Coat Azure
  2. Essie Sand Tropez
  3. Essie Turquoise and Caicos
  4. OPI Vampire State Building
  5. OPI Bastille My Heart

So do any of these shout “Buy me!”?

I like Sally Hansen colors pretty well, and they do dabble in puns, but I find myself gravitating toward butter LONDON nail polish for the first time. For full disclosure, it’s their names that I like best so far. It must be the English teacher or classics reader in me that falls for all those witty Briticisms. You can check them out through the link above, and maybe I’ll share some of my favorites in another post.

For more place name punning, check out my Five-Phrase Friday (7).

Teal next time. . . .

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