Greetings from Mackinaw Island in Michigan. We drove here yesterday, up through the rolling farmland of Michigan, past the turn off for Travers City, and noting how small towns dominate here, the largest being about 3,000 people. We're in Mackinaw now over night after spending the day biking on the Island (no cars are allowed). We took the winding bike path up the hill to Arch Rock and saw lots of white and pink trillium and these lovely yellow ladies slippers along the way.



We're still headed west, through the Upper Peninsula of Michigan tomorrow, then on to Wisconsin and Minnesota. Gas prices here are averaging $4.04 with lots of rain predicted for Friday, Saturday and Sunday; my heart goes out to those in the midwest now fighting floods. We're skirting the top of the bad weather AND only 1800 miles to Spokane!

We left Great Falls at 8:30 am yesterday and covered 400 miles, crossing from Virginia through Maryland and Pennsylvania, over two turnpikes to Ohio, past rolling fields, smack into a thundertorm which spread over several states and which has now thankfully passed on, leaving our car very, very clean. We were at the very edge of the storm, near Lake Erie, and the clouds were beautiful, with opposing winds pushing them in large circles, reminding me of the dragon paintings by Daoist monk and painter, Chen Rong, who lived in China in the 13th Century. His works are not often exhibited in the U.S. and I only discovered him several years ago online. His most famous work is Nine Dragons, a 50 foot long hand scroll painted in 1244. It is said the master painted while deliberately drunk, but the dragons float on clouds that shimmer with life.

Gettysburg. A Civil War battle site where Confederate troops met Union troops over three days in July 1863, and Robert E. Lee's drive north was stopped. We spent 5 hours touring the different aspects of this three-day battle in these hot, humid, rolling hills, fully a month before the actual battle occurred. At first the plans on both sides of attack and retreat were balanced, but Union troops withdrew to high ground, and with the Confederate troops' last attack over Pickett Field: some 12,000 men advanced in a line nearly a mile wide, with no cover, into canon and rifle fire. Lee's frontal strategy failed. Some 5,000 men were lost in one hour, 51,000 died over the three days.

The Gettysburg National Park tells the story of the Battle of Gettysburg from both sides, with monuments dotting the landscape. A Visitor's Center took us three hours to view the many artifacts, letters, and commentary. The fields are peaceful, and a solemn air pervades as we drove through the 24-mile auto-tour, coming to know the physical reality of McPherson Ridge, Pitzer Woods, Spangler's Spring, and the High Water Mark, all places where individual acts of great courage took place. Major General Meade devised a fish-hook strategy that put his troops on high ground and that allowed him to move men as needed quickly inside the fish-hook. The attacking Confederate forces were on the outside of the fish-hook, on low ground, with a wider perimeter to move troops.

Here in November, 1863, Lincoln spoke his 227-word iconic Gettysburg Address to heal the nation, following a two-hour oration by a prominent politician. His words, taking just a few minutes, were mocked by some but have lasted and still reverberate.

The many monuments large and small, several by 20th Century sculptor Gutzon Borglum, of Mount Rushmore fame, capture the sense of dedication, sacrifice and loss, as Borglum's memorial to North Carolina does.



What I will remember most from this now peaceful national park, with fields and forest edged with wooden fences, is a time of great effort and sacrifice, to affirm, as Lincoln said, "the proposition that all men are created equal." Like today, hidden economic interests in the north and south propelled us to war, but both sides were driven by ideals and a sense that government should be "by the people, for the people." What this means today is that no matter how large our country, we should all have a say in the decisions that are made, politically, economically, socially, and strategically.

A day at the zoo. Same day as gazillion grade school children, dragging their parents, smiling or crying through elaborate face paint, the day a lovely stroll past animals indifferent to our parade. Lost in their own worlds, they pursued their interests, a drink of water, a nap under bamboo, playing wildly with cage mates, or building a house within a house.

I can watch the big cats with fascination, their langour matched by eyes that know they have no natural enemy. A nature film makes me turn away, the rapid chase, the one fierce bite at the back of the neck. That reminds me of rabbits mating, the male holds the female by the back of the neck. I saw birds mating at the zoo as well, flamingos ruffling feathers and calling raucously. It must be late spring for them.

My favorite: a large rhinocerous bathing, coming up for air, delicately making room for his/her roommate, much like some people I know in a crowded house, so polite, so much weight, one avoids drama. This was a totally lovely day with friends and family spent in the sun, captured in a photo at the end of the day by a fanciful raindeer fountain, Philadelphia in the early summer.

In an afternoon of wandering at the University of Pennsylvania Museum of Archaeology, I found this small sculpture of Avalokitesvara, the boddhisatva of compassion (and also the patron saint of Tibet). His 1,000 arms are shown in the upward position of prayer, and his 11 heads in meditation. Here in Philadelphia, family concerns swirl around us. Some family and friends are seriously ill, so this time in the museum felt like an island. Just now a songbird welcomes morning, and so another day begins. May you and yours be well.

An afternoon drive down to the Philadelphia Art Museum led us to a small yet fascinating exhibit of Art Deco and Japanese kimonos from the 1930s and 1940s. We are used to seeing exquisitely formal Japanese kimonos with richly detailed embroidery, but here the surprise came in seeing kimonos designed for men. On the outside, expect austere black, but on the inside beautiful paintings and stenciled art delight the eye. Perhaps like a tattoo, unexpected and provocative.

This first kimono (a man's formal jacket from 1930s to 1940s) is shown inside out. I'm noticing most likely a poem on the right, with two little red "chops" (marks of the writer of the poem?), and then a wonderful painting of a Buddhist monk on a journey across water, perhaps to Japan's sacred island of Miyajima. How many provisions he takes for his journey!



A pair of infant boys' kimonos called Miyamairi (1920-1930), worn on the infant's first visit to the family Shinto shrine, drew my eye. Here the designs are hand-painted, recreating marvelously graceful carp (symbols of strength and perseverance) that float among willow leaves.



These simple lines are so beautiful. We'll be going back next week for the Frida Khalo exhibit, but this first dipping into current exhibits was wonderful. Happy Mother's Day to everyone!

Yesterday we wandered through Chanticleer Garden, billed as a 30-acre pleasure botanical garden. Flowering cherry, dogwood, and magnolia trees were matched with tulips, orchids, hydrangea, rhododendron and wild flowers everywhere. Every step brought new sights to see, and we simply wandered slowly throughout, appreciating the creativity of the plantings.

My camera was busy (photos are uploaded in webshots), but what a wonderful day, romantic and serene. We'll bring Rachel and Nick when they come in and return with Gordy and Lynda. Unforgettable. I learned a new flower (the brilliantly blue Himalayan poppy), but I don't think I'll be seeing it often. We also spotted this mystery orchid.


The writing goes well IF I start first thing in the morning. And I'm going to continue writing poems, though maybe not a poem every day. We're back in the big city. That means drivers do not use turn signals, stop at stop signs, or follow speed limits. At least on the east coast. It also means really fresh bagels and Sundays free entry at the Philadelphia Museum of Art. May your day go well.