Words for Wednesday: Mackinac Island horses

blogIMG_9554They are everywhere you look on Mackinac Island – the powerful, strong horses. They pull buggies loaded with sightseers; wagons loaded with supplies; shuttle carriages with hotel guests settled behind glass; they even haul the street cleaner.

Take a look at the various shots I captured of these beautiful creatures hard at work during our autumn journey to this quaint and picturesque island in Lake Huron, Michigan.

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“Where in this wide world can man find nobility without pride,

Friendship without envy,

Or beauty without vanity?

Here, where grace is served with muscle

And strength by gentleness confined…” 

~ Ronald Duncan, “The Horse,” 1954

©2019 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

Stepping back in time

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Mackinac Island, Michigan

One of the most compelling reasons Papa and I had for our autumn journey to Michigan was to visit Mackinac Island, an island in Lake Huron, one of the Great Lakes.

I first heard of it back in the early 80’s when the island’s Grand Hotel was featured in scenes from the movie, Somewhere in Time, starring Christopher Reeve and Jane Seymour.

I don’t think the movie did very well at the box office, but I still remember the haunting music from it and the time-traveling romantic aspect of the film. And the scenes from the Grand Hotel.

Mackinac Island is a bit like stepping back in time because no motorized vehicles are permitted on the island. You must travel either by your own impetus (by foot), or by bicycle, horse drawn taxis, or carriage tours, although electric scooters are allowed for those with disabilities.

Even supplies to everything on the island are brought by ferry from the mainland and then distributed to locations by horse-drawn wagons. So there are horses everywhere.

We boarded a ferry in St. Ignace, Michigan on a chilly, crisp morning for the short voyage (about 15 minutes) out into Lake Huron and after a side trip under the Mackinac Bridge, we set foot on Mackinac Island and its quaint hamlet.

Restaurants, bed and breakfasts, inns, cottages, homes, and gift shops galore line the village streets, including several fudge stores for some reason.

We soon learned that island tourists are called “fudgies” by the locals because sightseers  indulge in so much fudge buying. (And yes, we also succumbed to the lure of freshly made fudge, namely peanut butter, chocolate mint, and Papa’s favorite, German chocolate cake fudge.)

The island sports many hiking and biking trails and plenty to see and do for the outdoor enthusiast. You can rent bicycles or bring your own. You may go golfing, kayaking, horseback riding, sailing and parasailing, fishing, and enjoy other outdoor activities if you want to step out of time in the hustle bustle world and step into nature.

If cultural activities are more your thing, there are museums and art galleries to visit and history buffs will enjoy Fort Holmes, as well as Fort Mackinac inside the Mackinac State Historic Park and old cemeteries.   

Papa and I opted for a carriage tour lasting about an hour and 45 minutes, which transported us to all the major scenic sites on the island. The driver/tour guide was personable and we enjoyed her narration during the ride.

By far, my favorite spots to see were the Grand Hotel and Arch Rock.

After winding our way through the village and into more wooded areas, our carriage stopped at Arch Rock, so we could leave the carriage and walk to view this amazing 50-foot wide rock formation which towers above the gorgeous lake water.

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Arch Rock on Mackinac Island

Near the end of our carriage ride the last stop was the Grand Hotel, a majestic and pristine white landmark, which opened in 1887.  I’d claim it the showcase of the island with its 600-foot front porch looking out onto the lake. Picturesque? Definitely!

The historic hotel with 393 guest rooms is only open May through October. Overnight stays include breakfasts and dinners but it is quite spendy. So this Mama and Papa just hopped off the carriage after our tour, took a look at that beautiful place, and went on our merry way on foot.

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The Grand Hotel on Mackinac Island

On our walk-about, we stopped at a lovely stone chapel, walked along the lakefront, and enjoyed the sights and sounds (the steady clip-clop of horses’ hooves) of Mackinac Island.

Thankful that we had changed our plans due to inclement weather (all day rain and sleet), we visited the island on a Monday rather than our originally scheduled weekend day, Sunday.  

Our day there was blessed with sunshine even though it was brisk and a bit windy, and the island wasn’t terribly crowded, which is always a plus in my book.

Mackinac Island is a place I’ll remember with fondness, a reminder of that somewhere in time when Papa and I enjoyed a splendid autumn journey.

“Memories are timeless treasures of the heart.” ~ unknown

©2019 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

 

Words for Wednesday: a room with a view

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Night time view of Lake Huron

Little did I realize what was behind that curtain.

It was dark and rainy when we checked into our hotel in the town of St. Ignace, Michigan. Tired from our day of sightseeing in Dearborn and then the hours-long drive to the Upper Peninsula, we were more than ready to just relax and unwind.

After settling in a bit, I went to the hotel window like I usually do on our journeys to see what kind of view there was. I absolutely did not expect to see what I saw.

First of all, I was just a bit concerned as I drew open the drapery to find the window was actually a sliding glass door which opened to a small patio. Not that disconcerting unless you were on the lower level, which we were. 

Then I wondered why it was so very dark outside. I knew it was nighttime and raining but it was really pitch dark, no lights to be seen from the view whatsoever. I expected some lights from houses or perhaps other hotels or businesses, but what greeted me was sheer inkiness.

So I switched the porch light on and voilà! There it was – a view of one of the Great Lakes – Lake Huron to be exact. And our lower level room in the center of that hotel wing had a perfect view.

Nothing else in sight but the lake and a string of lawn chairs facing it. What a nice spot to sit and just relax, think, rest, ponder.

But of course, it was nighttime and raining…and did I mention it was a bit on the chilly side?

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My husband viewing the sunrise on Lake Huron

On our second morning at this hotel, I awakened early and then it dawned on me that a new day was also dawning outside and I could probably catch the sunrise on the lake.

Again, I pulled open that curtain, stepped outside, and took in the spectacular view as the sun was just beginning to rise in the east.

By mid-morning, there was yet another lovely view outside that room.

blogIMG_9524A room with a view. What more could we have asked for? And what a view it was. I’m so thankful I opened that curtain.

My experience is a bit like life isn’t it? We travel along on our life journey but don’t know what surprises await us just around the corner or just within our reach if we open ourselves up to the experience.

Open the curtain and enjoy the view. I think I learned a valuable lesson on the shore of Lake Huron.

“Somewhere on your journey, don’t forget to turn around and enjoy the view.” ~ unknown

©2019 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

Onward and upward

blogIMG_9448Onward and upward. That was our goal on our October road trip to Michigan.

After being awed and inspired by our day-long (which wasn’t ample enough time) visit to the Henry Ford Museum of American Innovation in Dearborn, we traveled north.

Our next stop for the night would be St. Ignace, a small Upper Peninsula town on the shores of Lake Huron, just across the famous Mackinac Bridge (more about that later).  

As day turned to dusk, the view outside our vehicle’s windshield still continued to cause me to keep my camera handy. The further north we traveled on a highway not busy with traffic, trees displayed their autumn glory in rich color.

Having been deprived of such beautiful fall displays in our home state for the last couple of years, I reveled in the sights. Fall, after all, is my most favorite season of the year. And I certainly wasn’t disappointed.

We crossed into the Upper Peninsula via the Mackinac Bridge in the dark so we couldn’t see much of that amazing five-mile long suspension structure that connects the two peninsulas.

But we could tell it was pretty windy as we crossed and rain was falling. Unfortunately, by the time we reached our hotel destination, the weather forecast wasn’t promising as rain continued steadily during the night.

We scrubbed our plans for the next day – visiting Mackinac Island – because the forecast called for 90-100% rain all day long. Instead, we decided to just go with the flow. Get in our car and drive even farther north just to see what we could see. An adventure on less traveled ‘blue highways.’

blogIMG_9372 (2)And we found some treasure troves that day like the photo above. As temperatures plummeted during our unplanned day trip, the air became crisper and sharper and the scenery became even more beautiful. And then snowflakes flurried through the air.

On more than one occasion, Papa had to stop the car or find a place to turn around after I would exclaim, “OHHH, look at that!” and wanted to capture a photo. (He patiently supports and understands how much I enjoy taking pictures and I’m so thankful for him.)  

We wandered as far north as Lake Superior and found lighthouses to visit and the site of the wreck of the SS Edmund Fitzgerald, an American freighter which sank during a storm on Lake Superior in November 1975. The entire crew of 29 was lost in the lake and if you’re older mature like me you may remember a song recorded by Gordon Lightfoot about that tragedy.

Finally, to wind up our random day trip excursion, we found ourselves in the northeastern end of the Upper Peninsula at the St. Mary’s River in Sault Ste.Marie.

There we stood for over an hour with 20 or so other folks on an outside observation deck, shivering in the cold, but determined to watch a 740-foot long Canadian freighter  travel through the St. Mary’s Falls Canal (called the Soo Locks) connecting Lake Superior with Lake Huron, which is actually 21 feet lower. 

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Canadian vessel moving through the Soo Locks in Sault Ste. Marie

Had we driven any further, we would have crossed a bridge into Canada. But since we didn’t have passports with us to get back into our own country, we just waved to our neighboring country from the American side of the river.

We traveled a lot of miles that day but the sights we observed and visited made even a cold, almost wintry day well worth a few shivers. And we also realized what a small world this truly is.

While waiting for the freighter to travel through the Soo Locks, we began chatting with another couple, who were also tourists. The gentleman had a distinguishable southern accent but we could tell from our discussion he had been in the military.

As we conversed, he asked us where we were from. Since we hail from a rural area outside a small town that most folks have never heard of, we usually just answer with the name of our nearest city because it is ‘just down the road’ from us.

Of course, this gentleman wanted to know what part of the city we lived in, so we had to explain that we actually reside outside the city near a small town. He was persistent in asking what the name of that was, so we finally told him.

His face lit up and he said, “I’ve been there!” And he proceeded to name the little village across the river from our hometown. Why on earth had he visited our neck of the woods? He once had a military buddy from our hometown.

There are so many big sights to see in this seemingly big world, but as Papa and I have discovered, we can travel for hundreds of miles yet meet up with someone who has something in common with us. 

Taking a detour from our itinerary showed us it just might be a small world after all.

“The traveler sees what he sees. The tourist sees what he has come to see.” ~ G.K. Chesterton

©2019 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

 

 

Words for Wednesday: A Glass Full

blogIMG_9150 (2)That day, the glass was completely full. Not half-empty, not half-full, but full to the brim. Full of color, full of sparkle, full of beauty.

During our recent journey to Michigan, Papa and I spent an entire day touring the Henry Ford Museum of American Innovation in Dearborn admiring treasures from the common to the famous. The entire museum is absolutely a treasure trove.

My museum and history loving spouse reveled in each section of the facility and I found more than enough to whet my appetite for taking photos.

Some of the most beautiful exhibits are housed in the Davidson-Gerson Modern Glass Gallery of the Henry Ford.

Enthralling and intriguing works of art made entirely of glass provided many ohs and ahs from both of us as we viewed the displays.

The old saying, “A picture is worth a thousand words,” proves most appropriate since I can’t even begin to describe in words how intricate and amazing the glass art we observed was.

So I’ll show you just a few of the pieces we appreciated.  It was a challenge getting photos of the glass art encased behind glass, but I think you’ll still enjoy these. 

I can’t imagine the creativity, ingenuity, and amount of time it took to create these glass sculptures.

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Davidson-Gerson Modern Glass Gallery  in the Henry Ford Museum of American Innovation

“I can’t imagine a world without glass.” ~ Jamie Hyneman, MythBusters co-host

©2019 mamasemptynest,wordpress.com

 

 

No mathematician

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Multiplication Cube at Henry Ford Museum of American Innovation

Let me just make this statement plainly and simply – I am not a mathematician. 

I can do simple math though and keep my check book balanced to the penny, but higher math is like a foreign language to me. I just don’t get it.

In elementary school, we called it arithmetic and I could manage my way through the simple aspects like addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division.

But once we entered junior and senior high school and took math classes, my brain fogged over. I found Algebra easy because in my logical mind, equations made sense. But after that, higher math left me feeling low.

Somehow I always got stuck placed in accelerated math classes and I was completely boggled as to why I was there. Geometry? Those proofs we had to work through proved I was not a mathematician. And Trigonometry? Huh? Something about sines and cosines…

I finally put my foot down before my senior year when my guidance counselor told me I needed to take Calculus because it would look good on my high school transcript and get me into college. Not if you’re planning to be an English major!

I still am amazed that I had the guts confidence to say no to that counselor because I wasn’t the most assertive teenage girl and was a bit shy as well. But I knew calculus was way out of my league.

My dad was a whiz at math, so somewhere along the line, the genes that enable you to excel with numbers skipped me but got deposited into my children. All three of them have math skills that leave me in the dust. Go figure!

I promise I’m going somewhere with this line of thinking, so just read on please.

On our recent trip to Michigan, Papa and I visited Dearborn, a suburb of Detroit. Our reason for this stop on our autumn journey was to tour “The Henry Ford.”  Even though we knew the site consisted of both indoor and outdoor history museums, we didn’t realize what a huge complex it actually is.

We had hoped to visit both the Henry Ford Museum of American Innovation and the outdoor Greenfield Village.  But realizing we had only planned one day there, we soon discovered we only had time for one of these areas, so we chose the museum.

Wow! It’s like another version of the Smithsonian. So very much to see and such a wide variety of displays. It literally took us all day to see the exhibits and since we had only allotted one day there, we had to scurry to take it all in.

With every turn into a new room of exhibits, we were amazed at everything. When I first noticed the title of one area called Mathematica, I honestly wondered if I really wanted to go in. I mean, math and I are not exactly cozy buddies.

But I was so glad I did. That section of the museum is filled with interactive, hands-on models and devices that entice children and adults to get involved in them. Everything from kinetics to geometry to probability is portrayed in various exhibits.

One of the displays that truly captivated me was the Multiplication Cube (shown pictured above), made in 1960-61.  This model demonstrates the multiplication of numbers through lights in a cube. Press 7 X 7 and 49 small globes light up. Way cool.

If only math lit up my brain like that, I certainly would have enjoyed it more.

“Mathematics is like childhood diseases. The younger you get it, the better.” ~Arnold Sommerfeld

©2019 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

 

 

Adjusting my sails

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Lorain West Breakwater Light, also called Lorain Harbor Light – Lake Erie (Ohio)

Songs from the decades of the 50’s, 60’s, and 70’s are stored in the memory banks of my river of life and lyrics from them float to the surface often.

That’s one aspect that doesn’t change for me.

Seasons are changing. When I gaze outside my windows, I see the change. The leaves are finally dressing up in their fall colors, leaving green behind like yesterday’s news.

And even though I’m in my older years (retirement age), I’m content to see change. I actually welcome change in a lot of areas of life.

Change keeps me on my toes. It helps me move forward instead of being stuck in the same old, same old ruts of life. And I’ve realized that I often need change.

That’s one of the reasons Papa and I enjoy traveling so much. Changes of scenery. Changes from a daily routine. Changes in what we see with our eyes wide open, hear with open ears, and experience with open minds.

In the words of an old Elton John song (Honky Cat) from the 1970’s, “Oh, the change is gonna do me good.”

I always return from one of our travels with a renewed enthusiasm because a trip involves change. Those trips taken with my loved one, the Papa of this empty nest and my marriage partner of over 40 years, invigorate me.

Different sights, different experiences, different parts of the country, those are the aspects of traveling that make me want to experience more.

When we left home for our trip to Michigan, the sun was shining and it was one of those warm, autumn days that almost feels like summer. Driving along our scenic route along Lake Erie in Ohio, our car windows were down and the wind blew through our hair.

I suddenly spotted a lighthouse in the distance and we tried to no avail to find a spot to pull over so I could capture a photo.  Finally, we spied a lovely lakeside park around lunchtime. As we usually do for the first leg of our journeys, I had packed a picnic lunch.

We parked beneath a sheltering tree to eat our lunch since the sun was really warm and noticed the temperature was hovering around 80° F.  As we meandered around the park so I could take photos of the lighthouses (there were two instead of just one that I had spied previously), the heat of the day made me realize I had dressed too warmly in my leggings and three-quarter length sleeve shirt.

The weather was so toasty for an October day that there was actually someone riding a jet-ski around the lake and I managed to get some great shots of him with the lighthouse as a background.

And the more I sweat, the more I began to wonder if I had packed accordingly. When we researched the weather forecast for our destinations, we packed clothing suitable for much cooler temperatures. And now I was roasting and wishing I had packed some summer items.

Never fear. A change was soon to come. By the time we reached our first Michigan destination on our itinerary, the temperature had dropped. And the further north we drove, the more it plummeted.

We began our journey on a summer-like day and soon found ourselves in wintry-like weather – windy and chilly in the middle 30° F marks and even drove through some snow flurries!

Definitely a change. But for this gal who actually likes colder, chillier temperatures, it was a great change. However, as we continued our trip into the upper peninsula of Michigan, I began to wish I had packed a winter coat, gloves, and a hat.

However, I’m adaptable; I can adjust to change. I know how to adjust my sails.

And I managed although I certainly didn’t look like a fashion plate in my strange get-up of many layers of clothing to stay warm and my spur-of-the-moment Wal-Mart purchase (thanks to cell phone GPS in finding a nearby store) of cheap gloves and a headband to keep my ears from the chilly wind.

A 50° temperature change might undo some folks, but the change…well, you know…the “change was gonna do me good.”

“The pessimist complains about the wind; the optimist expects it to change; the realist adjusts the sails.” ~ William Arthur Ward

©2019 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

Something in the water

blogIMG_9118Must be something in the water.

I’ve heard that idiom so many times and I believe it is probably something we Americans say that causes other nationalities to scratch their heads and say, “Whatever do they mean?”

When we utter that remark, we don’t mean it literally but generally we use that phrase when something strange or unusual happened and the only explanation you can come up with is that there’s something in the water everyone is drinking to make that occur.

For example, when several women you know are expecting a baby, you might say, “Must be something in the water” to explain such a prevalence of pregnancy.

It’s just a silly way of offering up a reason.

So I don’t know if there actually IS something in the water, but for me, there’s something ABOUT the water. There’s something that draws me to it. There’s something about sitting oceanside, lakeside, riverside, or beside a creek or waterfall that just creates a restful, peaceful feeling in me.

Part of it may come from my faith in Jesus Christ because in my faith, water is a very powerful symbol and is used often in God’s Holy Word. The Psalms speak of thirsting for God, the “spring of living water.”  Jesus himself offered us living water in the form of His grace, the gift of salvation.

So water always seems to call to me to come near.

On Papa’s and my recent excursion, our travels took us to several of the Great Lakes. Prior to this trip, we had often been to Lake Erie here in our home state of Pennsylvania, but had never driven along it in our next-door neighboring state, Ohio.

Since we were on our way to Michigan and our route first took us to Toledo, Ohio, we opted to take the blue highway along Lake Erie instead of the interstate.

As always, taking the less traveled route provided different perspectives and was the more scenic. We passed through several lake towns and stopped a couple of times when lighthouses were in view.  

Lighthouses are one of our favorite landmarks to spot, and I love taking photographs of them. (I’m still hoping to do a photography series here in my blog of just the photos of all the lighthouses I’ve captured in pictures.)

We took a little detour off our route to visit one of the lighthouses along Lake Erie but were disappointed to find the structure was undergoing some renovation so it was covered. But we enjoyed a little walk around the area, stretching our legs, and basking in a lovely fall day.

And as usual, the water called to me. We walked along the lake there, stepping carefully amid the rocks, and my camera just kept clicking.

As gentle waves lapped ashore on the rocks, I thought about the ripples in moving water. Even in a still body of water we can create ripples when we skip stones across the surface. We produce a change when we do so.

That causes me to consider the ripples I may make with my words and deeds, which probably cannot make a major change in the way this world works. But I can influence the ‘world’ around me, here in my own little corner of it, by the things I say and do.

Contemplating that as I view my photos of Lake Erie makes me realize ripples, even my little ones, do go out further and further than I realize. May my ripples always be encouraging to others and pleasing to my Lord.

“I alone cannot change the world, but I can cast a stone across the waters to create many ripples.” ~ Mother Teresa

©2019 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

Vacationing in October

blogIMG_9328Time changes things.

When our home was full of children, Papa and I only took our family vacations during the summer months when school was not in session. Both of us were raised to believe that the only reason you missed a day of school was because you were ill.

So we just didn’t think it was the best idea to take our three out of their classrooms for a week of vacation because they would miss so much and then have a lot of catching up to do.

Occasionally, we would take a trip during their spring break, but the majority of our family excursions for fun, relaxation, and sightseeing happened during the summer season. That continued during our children’s college years as well.

But things changed as time progressed and our offspring graduated from college, moved out of our family home, and set off into the world launching their careers and own ways of life.  As our nest emptied out, one by one, Papa and I realized we were free to do as we pleased.

And if we wanted to travel any time of the year, we certainly could do so. After our last fledgling flew out of the nest, Papa and I decided to take a trip down south in the fall. Our first non-summer trip as empty nesters.   

We traveled through several states, stopping along the way when some site piqued our interest as we made our way to Alabama to visit our oldest daughter who was living and working there at the time.

At every stop we made, we marveled at the lack of crowds. Families with school-aged children were non-existent at the points of interest we visited since school was in session. We found that we could take our time absorbing the sights and not feel rushed because tourists were not abundant at each place we stopped. 

What a new and great experience it was and we truly enjoyed our trip and the time we had together – just the two of us – like those days in our married life before children came along.

We had discovered a great perk to entering into that empty nest phase of life.

Since then, we’ve ventured on several trips during the ‘off-season’ of vacation time. We realized how pleasant it is to travel in the less busy seasons of fall, winter, or late spring before schools let out for the summer.  

And now that I am retired and Papa is semi-retired, we can pick up and take off on a journey whenever we darn well please.

Staying true to our discovery, we recently returned from an October vacation and it was glorious. Of course, since autumn is my very favorite time of year, I basked in the cooler weather and amazing fall foliage we encountered on our trip to Michigan, especially the Upper Peninsula.

And I checked one more state off my bucket list of visiting all 50 states in this great country of mine. (Ten more to go.)

I plan to share my thoughts, photos, and experiences from our trip in the next several posts.

Won’t you pack your virtual suitcase and come along for the trip?

“Travel, in the younger sort, is a part of education; in the elder, a part of experience.” ~ Francis Bacon

©2019 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

Read between the signs

blogIMG_8704.jpgWhere do old, outdated, and worn out highway signs go when they die? I think I found one of the answers.

Abundant highway signs are everywhere, always visible when traveling down any road or by-way. Signs tell us to stop, what route number we’re traveling on, names of streets, when to yield to oncoming traffic.

They warn us of people and animal crossings, one-way streets, curves, and hills. Signs tell us how fast we can legally drive our vehicles, when we’re entering a work zone, when passing lanes end, and when traffic lanes shift.

But have you ever wondered what becomes of old signs? Do they just end up in a landfill somewhere? Or are they recycled?

On one of our day-trips northward, Papa and I exited off the interstate highway (I-79) to search for a restaurant in the town of Meadville, PA. After sightseeing all day and starting the drive home, our empty stomachs gave us signs that dinnertime was approaching.

Paused at a stoplight signaling red, I noticed some unusual art work on the side of the road. Before I could grab my camera to try to snap some photos, the light switched to green.  We continued on to the restaurant we’d chosen, but I was determined to capture that art on our way back to the interstate.

blogIMG_8703.jpgI marveled at the ingenuity and creativity of whoever fashioned this approximately one-quarter mile long art display.  

Several years ago, the Meadville Pennsylvania Department of Transportation (PennDOT) maintenance facility wanted to welcome visitors to town with reclaimed road signs. So they reached out to art professor Amara Geffen from the town’s Allegheny College to help initiate a project.

Working with college art students, PennDOT welders and road crews created the first part of the mural – a sculpture garden of road sign flowers fashioned from cut and welded old, used signs. That clever display consists of 12 flowers, each around 10 feet high.

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Road sign flower garden

Even more discarded signs were utilized to construct a long, creative wall sculpture. This quirky but amazing mural contains blue hospital signs fashioned into ocean waves; a red barn, constructed from stop signs, complete with a white silo made of junction signs; rainbow colored hot air balloons; and other creative sculptures, some of which have moving parts.

blogIMG_8706.jpgThis unusual way of recycling old highway signs caused me to remember an early 1970’s song, Signs, by Five Man Electrical Band.

Sign, sign, everywhere a sign

Blockin’ out the scenery, breakin’ my mind

Do this, don’t do that, can’t you read the sign?

Those song lyrics were written by a man named Les Emmerson as he was traveling in California on Route 66 and couldn’t help but notice that so many billboards obscured the scenic views.

I couldn’t help but think that the art display alongside the road in Meadville wasn’t blocking out the scenery but enhancing it. Instead those signs presented something unusual and interesting to gaze at. And that artwork did kind of ‘break’ my mind.

“In the eighteenth century, it was ladies and gentlemen and swings in a garden; today, it may be Campbell’s soup cans or highway signs. There is no real difference. The artist still takes his everyday world and tries to make something out of it.” ~ Corita Kent

©2019 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com