Pollen Rainbows / Candle the Pig's Legacy

Well, what an interesting day it was. I set out for the Barrens and checked out my ponds on what was a rather chilly morning. I expected to find ice on them but the trees apparently sheltered them from the more extreme cold. Alas, there was no ice on any of my ponds.

There were, however, pollen rainbows on one of the tiniest ponds of all. I talk about my three ponds, 1, 2, and 3. But actually, there are even more teenie-tiny ponds secretly hidden here and there. This one is so small it doesn't even get a number. Maybe 1.1 or 1.a, something like that.

I saw the gray haze on the tiny pond and then walked around until I had the pond directly between me and the light (in this, it is much like photographing frozen bubbles; the angle the light is coming from is key). Above is the very first photo I took, of many. (More info about pollen rainbows can be found here and here.)

Later in the day, my husband and I took one of our cars for a spin. We drove down the country and back up again. We didn't stop for me to photograph the barn in Warriors Mark with the amazing tobacco mural on it (someday, I promise). But when we came back, closer to home, my husband dropped me off to photograph some llamas. Then he promised me pigs!

For there are some amazingly fine pigs at a farm directly in town. It is right across from the preschool where Boy Scouts sell hoagies on Penn State game days. He offered to drop me off for five minutes and then come back and pick me up, so I could finally photograph the pigs. Hooray!

So it was that my husband dropped me off right along route 550, and out I went with camera, into the Pig Zone. The farmer lady was there, and she came over to chat with me. I told her I was a big fan of the pigs, and that finally, today, here I am, with camera!

She asked if I'd like her to take me over and introduce me to the pigs, and I responded with glee: yes, ma'am, that would be awesome! I told her that I was a big fan of Candle, back in the day. Candle was a sort of grayish-pink pig with some dark spots on his sides, who was prone to escaping his enclosure and chasing cars (and the Stormstown bus!) along route 550.

In fact, Candle is the impetus behind many of the most amusing postings on the local Stormstown Neighbors Facebook page. I laughed myself silly one morning when I read the news: "Loose pig chasing cars along (route) 550 in the Village. Drive with caution!"

The comments that day were hilarious. I had to say something myself, of course, as I have had the (probably not lone) distinction of having chased Candle down route 550 myself once. Yes, I did!

One morning on my drive to work, the pig was out, and I stopped to knock and let the farmer lady know that he had sprung himself. I had no actual pig chasing skills myself, alas, but I did sound the alert, and the pig was recovered that time without incident.

Anyway, on the latest posting, it was noted that "The pig is on the lam," and "That's Some Pig!" And so I asked, Was it Candle again? A lady I do not know replied: "Golden pink with grey accents, mid-sized as pigs go, bristles blown back from high-speed running?"

And we all laughed, and we felt happy to live in the country where the biggest tale of the day is escaped livestock, and we all felt a little more free that day because of that strong-willed pig who could NOT be chained, who escaped and chased cars and lived large and on the lam. This was a pig who had Grand Adventures! (I pictured him, like Braveheart, shouting FREEEEDOMMMMMMMMMM to the winds, as the breezes tickled his bristles!)

Well, I regret to share this part, but the sad news from the farmer lady on this day is that Candle is no longer with us. She found his cold, dead body on the farm one morning, and sent it to Penn State for analysis, where they informed her he had passed from some sort of pneumonia. My face fell. How sad!

But then she said, These pigs here (see the photo in the extras) are Candle's offspring! And so I got to meet them, and say Hello, and tell them that they looked like their dad! Except that that curly pig in front doesn't, really; Candle was not curly at all, but as I said, pinkish gray with dark spots.

The pigs walked around and grunted, and they squealed for me and did all of the things authentic porkers do. I took pictures of Candle's progeny, and I pondered all of these things: about country life, and pigs, and chases, and escapes, and freedom, and joy that is found in totally unexpected places.

Do you see that pig down front? Do you see the glint in its eyes? Do you see its thirst for freedom, its desire to run down cars along route 550? Do you see bristles ready to be blown back by high-speed running? I do! As long as there is a pig running free somewhere, unfettered, Candle's legacy lives on.

Now, it is my custom to include songs to go with my pictures. And here we have two photos. So here are two songs. First, for the pollen rainbows above, which give me such joy, here's Kacey Musgraves, with Rainbow. And second, for the pigs who are Candle's progeny, and thus his legacy (for who can deny the appeal of a tale of a pig running for freedom), we have Elton John, with Candle in the Wind.

And it seems to me you lived your life
Like a candle in the wind
Never knowing who to cling to
When the rain set in
And I would've liked to know you
But I was just a kid
Your candle burned out long before
Your legend ever did