A New Toy at Childhood's Gate

“Look at everything as though you are seeing it either for the first or last time, then your time on earth will be filled with glory.”
~ Betty Smith, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn

I don't know how recently it arrived there, as I haven't been visiting the Arboretum quite as much lately, and when I do, sometimes I simply photograph the red elm and skip everything else. But I happened upon a new toy on this morning at Childhood's Gate. At first I thought it might be an armillary sphere, like the one on the Old Main lawn.

But upon closer inspection, I discovered it was nothing of the sort. It is a garden fixture that features a round metal kettle, around which three kaleidoscopes are positioned. The way it works is that you place something inside the metal kettle, and then you can peer at it through the kaleidoscopes for a closer look. How marvelous!

On this day, there was nothing in the kettle but snow and ice, but I went ahead and had a look from each of the three kaleidoscopes, and played with them a bit. I am like a child that way: I absolutely MUST play with the new things I find at the Arboretum.

And, yes, I admit it - it was probably my rearranging the fairy garden inside the Glass House for photos last summer that resulted in a scolding sign being placed by it saying - Please look but do NOT touch! You can see the Glass House in the background of this shot; that's where the Christmas tree is placed around the holidays.

And so I admired the snow and ice in a new way of seeing, which is to say: up close and personal, in tiny, neat, repeating, abstract patterns. Each kaleidoscope is made to be twisted so that you can change the patterns, but one of the three was frozen stuck and would not move. (Oh the hazards of a Pennsylvania winter!)

I did not know it at the time, but a grand heroic venture was about to take place in my beloved Arboretum. For Monday evening during our latest winter storm, a local dog named Skye went missing near the Arboretum; the owners posted notices everywhere but there were no reports of sightings.

Well, guess where the dog was: it had fallen into a sinkhole in the golden grassy, marshy area between the Arboretum and East Park Ave, not far from the little boardwalk that I am always taking pictures of. The owners had been searching the area and heard the dog barking sometime Wednesday morning after I was there.

Thanks to the heroic efforts of a local fire company, Penn State's physical plant, Centre County COG, and the Pennsylvania Urban Search and Rescue Team, Skye the dog was rescued from a 15-foot-deep sinkhole. (For the record, the dog was immediately checked by a vet, and was reported to be doing just fine!) You may watch the dramatic rescue here!

When the news broke of the rescue shortly before lunchtime, I was just about beside myself. For I had just BEEN there! But for once, I had not gone down to shoot on the little walkway. If I had, I would like to think that I'd have heard the dog barking, understood what it meant, and done something to help. (But . . . how does one know to check for dogs barking beneath the snow?)

The song to accompany this posting is about the kaleidoscope, and seeing things differently. For I am one who believes that if you look closely enough at pretty much anything, you will discover how intricate and beautiful even the simplest things are. The song is Joshua Kadison, with Beautiful in My Eyes.