Travel song for spring: Morning Has Broken

Back in November and December we ran a series Songs of Travel where we featured our favorite travel songs. This morning with spring flowers blooming in a variety of places, even along I-70 where I saw dozens of daffodils in their yellow splendor just yesterday, and my mother is talking about the redbud trees blooming throughout the mountains of southeastern Kentucky, I’m reminded of Cat Steven’s (aka Yusef) “Morning has Broken.”

Here’s a video I found that captures the beauty of the flowering trees, roadsides and gardens, plus the birds that we can see for free. With birds busy migrating back to their summer homes this month and festivals honoring flowers, this ode to spring and the morning seemed fitting. Hopefully as you travel this week, you’re able to enjoy the blossoms and the singing. There’s a wonderful shot of children about halfway through.

Lincoln’s boyhood home is well worth the trip

Because Lincoln Boyhood National Memorial in Indiana near the Kentucky border is not on a main highway, it’s not crowded. At least it wasn’t crowded the sunny Sunday afternoon in August when we swung into the parking lot after winding our way along the shady road that led there from Indiana Highway 162.

I was surprised by the size of the park’s visitor’s center. It’s scope is impressive–massive amounts of limestone and lumber. Inside, the interpretive displays and the short film about Lincoln’s life offered background information to frame our visit–one I recommend.

Our son was most impressed by the size of Lincoln’s shoes. Replicas, available for trying on in front of a life-size cardboard figure of grown-up Abe, offer the chance for a boy (or a girl) to see how he or she physically measures up. But, it’s through the woods where one sees what helped make the 16th president, who was born today 200 years ago, so unique.

Across the parking lot in the midst of the woods on a hilly spot is a cemetery with a simple grave marker. It belongs to Nancy Hanks Lincoln, Lincoln’s mother. Although the actual burial site is not known, the marker is an estimation of the grave’s location. Nancy died of milk sickness when Lincoln was nine years-old.

Caused by drinking milk from a cow that ate white snake root, milk sickness was more common during dry spells in certain sections of Indiana, Illinois and Ohio when there was not much else for cows to eat. As the story goes, Nancy knew she was dying, and afterward, Lincoln helped his dad bury her.

Down the hill from the cemetery is the site of the original house’s location. The size of the foundation’s outline attests to Lincoln’s humble beginnings. A short distance away, the Living History Farm shows what life was like for Lincoln as he headed towards his teen years. The one-room house, out buildings, barn, animals. and people dressed in period clothing tell about the days when Lincoln sat reading by firelight after a day of chores.

In a clever form of story-telling, a walk through the oldest stand of oak and hickory trees in the forest goes along the Trail of Twelve Stones— stone markers from various sites that were significant in Lincoln’s life. The first stone is from his birthplace in Kentucky, for example. One stone is from the battleground at Gettysburg. Another, my favorite, has four bricks from his wife Mary Todd Lincoln’s house. When you follow the trail, you get a sense of the scope of Lincoln’s experinces.

As majestic an awe-inspiring as the Lincoln Memorial in Washington, D.C. may be, I was inspired by walking through the woods where Lincoln once walked. Because this is an off-the-beaten-trail location, largely untouched by development, a lot of it looks, smells and sounds the same it did almost two centuries ago.

Other funny names of places: How about Intercourse?

It’s great to have belly laughs. The article in the New York Times that Jeremy wrote about yesterday had me chortling out loud and reminded me about why Monty Python is so darned funny.

I thought Intercourse, Pennsylvania was bad, but the list of funny names in England was impressive. For some reason, Titty Ho caught me the most.

As I was reading the NY Times article, I kept thinking of Life of Brian and the scenes with Pontius Pilate. It also reminded me of Annie’s post on Big Bone Lick, Kentucky, a place I have actually been to. There’s also Beaver Lick, Kentucky.

Here are a few more funny names for places. Pennsylvania also boasts the town Blue Ball which is not far from the aptly named town Virginville. Then there’s Montana’s — Bald Knob Mountain. What about Bucksnort, Tennessee? Or Bumpass, Virginia?

This one seems apropos, Happy Camp, California. Who couldn’t use a little stay in Happy Camp these days?

For some Saturday entertainment, keep reading for the YouTube Life of Brian scene with Pontius Pilate.

Big Bone Lick State Park

Who names these parks?

There’s me, road tripping through Indiana, minding my own business, when bam! I’m at some park called Big Bone Lick.

Technically located in Kentucky, Big Bone Lick calls itself “the birthplace of American paleontology.” I didn’t know American paleontology was into that!

Apparently, they found pleistocene megafauna fossils there. Yeah, I don’t know what that means either, but they say that mammoths and other prehistoric creatures were drawn there by a natural salt lick.

Okay. Bones. Salt lick. It get it. It still sounds like a porno, though, and is probably the #1 state park gift shop in America that I’d like to raid for mildly inappropriate gifts. Next stop, French Lick, Indiana, home of Larry Bird and a lot of happy people.

Should they change it to Freedom Lick? …nah.

Photo of the Day (10-15-08)

There’s a novel by American author James Still titled River of Earth. This photo by miggiddymatt reminds me of Still’s writing.

Still, who died a few years ago when he was well into his 90s, was an adventurer and traveler who settled in the mountains near Hindman, Kentucky, a tiny town in the southeastern part of the state. He wrote about the Appalachians with an ear that perfectly captured the cadence of place.

Even though this photo is of the Blue Ridge Mountains in North Carolina, the colors and ripples evoke a memory of a day I drove to the end of a road near Natural Bridge State Park to overlook such wonder. When I saw the view, I thought that the earth did indeed look like a river that went on and on forever.

If you have a shot of wonder, send it our way at Gadling’s Flickr Photo Pool.