If We Get Separated, Meet Me at the Stairs

Now everyone dreams of a love lasting and true
But you and I know what this world can do
So let's make our steps clear that the other may see
And I'll wait for you
If I should fall behind
Wait for me

After an unusually balmy spell, winter returned with a vengeance. We had snow squalls on Friday that caused wrecks and closed local roads. That day was followed by several very cold nights. The temperature overnight Saturday into Sunday in central Pennsylvania was around 10 degrees F. That's pretty chilly, for March!

My husband and I waited until the thermometer read above 30 degrees, which didn't happen until around noon, and then we left for a little outdoor adventure at Bald Eagle State Park. We had spent a warm Friday afternoon there a week ago when the temperatures were in the 70s and it was nearly summer-like. What a difference a week makes!

The last time we were there, we hung out around the main beach area. This time, we planned to drive over to a different part of the park, one of the old boat launches. But as we attempted to drive there, we discovered to our surprise that the access road was closed.

So we parked by the gate, being careful not to block it, and grabbed our chairs and daysacks, and hiked down in. The skies were a shade of bluebird blue, with nary a cloud to be found. No boats would be floating in this section today, as the water was drained nearly all the way down to just plain mud.

We set our chairs up in a relative windbreak in the sun, and it was comfy there. Warm enough. Then we got up and wandered around. Unless I am reading, I do not sit still much; you are more likely to find me walking around, taking pictures.

I strolled through the old parking lot to a favorite cement stairwell that looks like it is from the 1950s, though I don't know for sure the date. The dam itself was created in the late 1960s, and Bald Eagle State Park first opened as a park on July 4th, 1971, Independence Day. Some sections of the park seem to live outside of time, untouched by it; this is one of them.

The old stairwell is crumbling and poorly maintained, but it is one of my favorite parts of this area. It's in the midst of a long line of trees, which were throwing neat shadows in the stark afternoon light. And there I stood, taking pictures into the light and shadows.

My husband had been walking down along the dock and he wandered, unannounced, into my shot; that's him in the distance, to the left of the trees. As you might guess, I met him at the stairs.

Later in the evening, as we were sitting in our chairs in the living room at home, watching Sunday night reruns of Columbo and recapping the highlights of our day, our conversation turned wistful.

We talked of the park, this place that seems to live outside of time: the old dock, the parking lot lined by trees. "If we should ever be Separated," I said, choking up at the thought (you know, the big "Separated," with a capital S), "I'll meet you at the stairs."

The soundtrack to this scene is a favorite, and I am delighted to include it here. The lyrics above are from it, and it is one of their very best songs: Bruce Springsteen and crew, with If I Should Fall Behind.

P.S. On an entirely different note, there is another picture in the extras that merits a sentence or two of explanation. It is a bizarre hobby, I know, but I enjoy taking pictures of the light through the window condensation on our bedroom window in the morning. (In retrospect, I think it may be my own way of trying to understand the Light.)

I took this picture straight into the morning light through the droplets, then increased definition, saturation, and contrast. The black line to the left is where a set of droplets had just run madly down the window together, pretending to be a river; a river of darkness against the light.