20 or More Every Day

     Next to the Larchmont Library here in Norfolk is a temporary memorial that aims to bring attention to the high rate of suicide among American vets. It is estimated that 20 or more take their own lives every day. That's 140 each week, 7280 each year. This number is likely an indication of inadequate treatment for PTSD and traumatic brain injury. The memorial was created by Mission 22, a group which aims to increase awareness of the crisis.

Temples

     In the small courthouse town of Accomac on Virginia's Eastern Shore is a building that has always intrigued me. It looks like a Greek temple expressed in wood, and throughout the South you can still see many modest buildings that have been adorned with a few columns and a portico. I find it interesting that this architectural form has inspired so many structures, millennia after it first arose in the ancient world. This particular building started life in the late 1800's as the town's Baptist church, but it did not yet have the Greek adornments. It was moved to its current site for use as a school when the church built a more substantial building. At some later point the columns and portico were added. In the 1920's a more substantial "modern" school was built adjacent to the old school, which is now used only for storage.

     On the right in this old photo you can barely see the building through the trees in its original location, and in its pre-Greek form.

     The "modern" school also has a temple form in the center of the overall structure. Unfortunately the fate of both buildings is uncertain. It has been a long time since either has been used to teach students, and money for nonessential renovations does not flow freely in one of Virginia's poorest counties.

     However, I am taking it as an encouraging sign that the county is still keeping both buildings painted. A bright white has recently replaced the very dull ocher that was on the old building for years. This freshness is what prompted my photos, and made me ponder, for the first time, a crude resemblance between the temple in Accomac and another more famous building in Richmond, both with Ionic columns.

     Virginia's capitol building was designed by Thomas Jefferson and Charles-Louis Clérisseau, and it is considered the first neoclassical building built in North America. The two took their inspiration from the Maison Carrée in Nimes, France, a very well preserved Roman temple, and we know the Romans took their architectural inspiration from the Greeks.

     Out of necessity the capitol has changed over the years, most noticeably with the addition of wings and front steps.

     It has also survived several crises in its 200+ years, including this proposed renovation from 1973 (as if Jefferson didn't have enough to keep him from turning over in his grave).

     The building also served as the capitol of the Confederacy during most of the Civil War, and at the end of the war survived its greatest threat. When it became clear the war was lost, the evacuating Confederate forces torched the warehouses to keep the stores from Union hands. Unfortunately for the citizens of Richmond, the fire spread uncontrollably and much of the town was destroyed, however, the capitol was spared.

     With the city still burning, the mayor of Richmond and a group of citizens surrendered the city to nearby Union troops, who managed to quell the fire. Some might say that the citizens and their city deserved what happened, but recent history has led me to believe that there are times when some compassion ought to be considered for everyone, even those that make ignorant shortsighted choices, and back wrong causes.

(When you started reading, I bet you had no idea we would end up here, but that is how my mind works. Apologies to those that need it.)

Death and Life With Gulls

     My wife and I headed to Williamsburg recently for dinner with vacationing family. Like many inland trips it necessitated crossing the Hampton Roads Bridge Tunnel. Just before we entered the tunnel, a herring gull got too close to the car in front of us, and its wing tip clipped the car's luggage rack sending the gull into a spiraling cartwheel. The poor creature landed in the adjacent roadway right side up, wings and feet splayed, alive, but stunned and facing the oncoming Greyhound bus that would kill it. This entire scene took less than 10 seconds to play out, but it will be much longer than that before I forget the final look on that bird's face. I might be reading too much into to it, but to my eyes it was a look of calm resignation.

     Flattened feathery mats are a common sight on this bridge, and to console my wife, I told her it happens all the time, but I am the one that can't keep this clip from playing in my head. It has had me pondering my own species' overriding presence on this planet, and how we make things so difficult for the other species. We force them into circumstances they wouldn't otherwise be found, and we push them to the edge, only to redefine the edge. Some species have learned to live with us, and some have even thrived, but these are the proportionately minuscule exceptions. The gulls on the bridge, and there are many, must have determined that the benefits here outweigh the risks of possibly encountering any one of the 100,000 vehicles that cross the bridge each day. Those less careful birds that do lose their lives are perhaps helping Mr. Darwin prove a point.

    

(Just a reminder that my Winter Walk-Off challenge is open until 3/19 at midnight. I am fairly certain that the entries will be less somber than this one.)

Tubing and Tattoos

     Earlier this month, some friends and I left the flatlands, and headed west to Scottsville for a day of tubing on the James River. This is one of my favorite things to do on a late summer day when the water is warm and clear. I wish I could share with you the beauty of the James, but on a total immersion trip like this, carrying anything subject to water damage, such as a camera, is not good idea. Though this didn't stop several members of the nearby and inebriated college crowd from bringing along their own electronic devices to broadcast loud and bad music. I kept wondering if I could hold my breath long enough to swim under water to the noise's source, overturn it, then swim away undetected. I've already made a note to myself to make an earlier departure next time so as to avoid this crowd. Despite this we had a lovely time, and after spending a delightful evening in nearby Charlottesville, we headed back home, but not before stopping at the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts (VMFA) in Richmond.

     Having spent much of my life in Richmond, the museum is familiar to me, or at least it was before its latest, and impressive, renovation.

     Underneath and behind the sloping garden above is the new parking garage. What used to be the old parking lot is now the Robins Sculpture Garden, which as a card-carrying treehugger, I think is indeed a better use of any space.

     On one side of the garden is a building whose architect was allowed access to the original plans for the White House to use as derivation. Built in 1932, it was, ironically, the Home for Needy Confederate Women. It's last occupants were moved to a nursing home in 1989, and it then became VMFA offices and meeting rooms. The rest of the museum's grounds were once part of a residential complex for poor and disabled Confederate veterans. There has been much talk of relegating all things Confederate to museums, so I guess Richmond has had a head start.

     The museum itself has undergone many additions and renovations, the latest one is decidedly modern, and has created much new space. The entrance is now a large atrium that runs through all the museum's floors. At one end is the sculpture garden and restaurants, and at the other is a large leaping hare.

     The first thing we saw was a photography exhibition titled Organic: Photographs of the Natural World. Though I enjoyed the show as a whole, I got stuck on the fact that the title of one of the photographs is Bellevue Chinese Witch Hazel though it is clearly a loropetalum. Next to the photos was the entrance to the South Asian gallery, where I ran into a childhood memory.

     I think I first saw this depiction of a dancing Shiva on one of Miss Greene's 5th grade field trips, and I was fascinated with the statue, and have looked for it on each visit since. On my recent trip it was only one of many things that caught my eye at this wonderful museum.

     The museum is free, but we did pay $10 to see the exhibition, Japanese Tattoo: Perseverance, Art, and Tradition. Though we are both without any ink, my wife and I are somewhat fascinated with tattoos. Even so, I entered the exhibition not thinking I would enjoy it as much as I did. Once you got beyond all the colorful backsides and noticed the details, skill and artistry, it was utterly fascinating.

     I recommend the tattoo show, and it is well worth the extra money, but it ends 9/27. There is much more to see at the museum, but we didn't have the time, so a return trip is called for. As usual, there are more photos available on my Flickr page.

Land, Sea, and Sky

     What follows is an assortment of photos taken this past weekend on the Eastern Shore of Virginia. The first few were taken during a morning walk along the edge of Metompkin Bay near my parents' house. The remaining photos were taken later in the day when we took the boat to Cedar Island, where the black skimmers were busy tending to their chicks. This part of the world is very special to me, and this blog has been to both places several times before. God willing and the seas don't rise, I'll be back again.

      A cross is put here every Easter for a sunrise service, and is usually taken down shortly thereafter, but there is a slightly different dynamic here this year.

     I've been reading too much lately about sea level rise, and I take the potential loss personally. Fortunately and selfishly, I will likely be dead before the worst of this apocalypse-in-slow-motion arrives. When people ponder all the many what-ifs, such as how our coastal cities will fare, and will there be mass migration from the coasts - is anyone thinking about black skimmers and where they will raise their chicks? They are very particular about their nesting sites, and unlike us, they can't just pack up and move. Their species will certainly be just one of many thousands affected.

Welcome to the Anthroprocene.