Books for kids, teens, & those who are young at heart

Category: Travel (Page 11 of 14)

Rivers of Fire

WaterFire Providence is an interactive work of art that was designed by Barnaby Evans. It consists of 100 iron braziers that seem to defy physics as they float on three rivers in downtown Providence. The fires are lit at sunset and keep going until after midnight.

(Here’s Waterplace Park in the daytime. You can see the braziers are stacked with wood. On the left is the Courtyard Marriott and on the right is the Westin Hotel. Even more buildings have been put up since this picture was taken a few years ago. This area of Providence has gone through a real growth period over the last ten years.)

The WaterFire experience is really something that can’t be described, but I’ll give it a try. Imagine a communal ritual based around fire—very natural and primal—but in a modern, urban setting. The juxtaposition is part of the beauty. In order to really appreciate the full work of art, the hubby and I walk down the riverside in a slow procession of people, surrounded by the sounds, smells, and sights of city and art. For once, I don’t mind having to take a minute to pause and experience all the moment has to offer. All my senses are engaged.

(Here’s the park at night from a different angle. Providence Place Mall is in the background.)

Sight is obvious. The bright orange flames glow in the braziers, reflecting off the inky waters. Bright ash flits by us. The boats move up and down the river: the pontoons full of people, the romantic gondola designed for two, and the staff boat with the black-clad volunteers that steal up to the braziers like some kind of fire phantoms. Then there’s the city scape: the Bank of America Building (locally known as the Superman Building), which always reminds me of Dana’s apartment building in Ghostbusters; the cars driving by; the mall; the people; the bridges; and all those the city lights. Oh, and I almost forgot to mention the street performers dressed as gargoyles and fortune-tellers.

Smell is pretty obvious too, given that the scent of fire is pretty distinct. These fires smell of pine and cedar. But there’s also the city smells: car exhaust, street vendors, and all those unidentifiable, funky smells that are part of city life.

Sound is prevalent as well. The wood cackles and pops as the flames hit air pockets, and the musical program that is part of the art experience echoes along the walkway (my favorite song this visit is Chopin’s “Nocturne No. 8 in D flat major” performed by Daniel Barenboim). And of course, there’s the sounds of the city: car horns, the shuffle of feet along the walkway, quiet murmurs of the crowd, and the whir of motors of both cars and boats.


Touch is more subtle. The fires send a wave of warmth across my skin. A light breeze blows my hair around my face. The stone walkway is cool and uneven beneath my sandals.
Taste is the most elusive sense. On this trip, I have the delicious memory of the previous night’s dinner. The hubby and I went to Constantino’s on Federal Hill. We started with carpaccio (which neither of us had ever eaten) and some Riesling. Then I had gnocchi and the hubby had chicken parmigiana. Both were awesome! For dessert, I had a cannoli platter…of course! But none of that really has anything to do with the WaterFires. Sure, there’s a bunch of restaurants along the rivers, but I want a better connection between taste and fire. Well, the program informs me that Indian Buddhists believe the element water is associated with taste (fire is sight, earth is smell, and air is touch).

Even with having to stretch a little for taste, it was still a lovely evening.

Answering the Tough Questions from Kids

I spent last week relaxing in Vermont; not exactly a jet-setting type of vacation, but one that was much needed. The room in which my husband and I stayed had a bird’s nest on the outside sill. It had three little blue eggs (most likely robin eggs) in it.

(This was taken through the window…hence the weird glare)

When the kids (my 10-year-old nephew, 4-year-old niece, and 3-year-old nephew) arrived in Vermont, they all had to see the eggs. The novelty soon wore off for the boys, but my niece was a little obsessed with them. Every time she came downstairs, she just had to see the eggs. Then she started asking all these questions about the eggs.

Now, my niece is very curious (as most 4-year-olds are), but trying to answer some of her questions has gotten me into trouble before. Recently, I was wearing my dragon-claw necklace, and my niece wanted to know all about it. She loves when I make up stories, so I told her one about how I defeated a dragon and took his claw as a souvenir of my triumph. It sounds a bit gory, but I kept it pretty tame.

At some point during the story, my niece wanted to know what color the dragon was—I think I said it was blue because that’s what color the stone in the necklace is—because clearly that’s a very important detail when you’re fighting a dragon. Then she asked why the claw wasn’t blue anymore, and I said I had to dip it in metal to preserve it. “What’s preserve?” she asked.

Somehow my explanation led to how living things—including people—decompose when they die, which I told her means they turn to dirt (I guess they really turn to dust, but dirt was easier for her to understand). She looked at me with big eyes and said, “I don’t want to turn into dirt.” I told her she didn’t have to worry about that because she wasn’t going to die for a very long time and hoped she would forget about it.

Well, she didn’t. My niece now periodically asks her mother about when she or Grandma or whoever is going to die and turn into dirt. Mostly she thinks about this right before she goes to bed. My sister is so very pleased with me!

Anyway, back to Vermont. My niece asked, “When are the birds going to hatch?” I don’t really believe in lying to kids (and my sister is pretty straight-forward with them), but I didn’t want to repeat the turning-to-dirt episode, so I told her eggs usually only hatch in the spring and since it’s already summer, these probably won’t hatch.

She was okay with that for a little while, but not for long. “Why aren’t they going to hatch?” Luckily, my sister and my mom were there to answer these questions, and I was off the hook. My mom said that without a mommy bird to keep the eggs warm, the babies inside can’t hatch. “Where’s the mommy bird?” My mom explained that maybe the mommy bird had to leave the babies. “Why would the mommy bird leave?” Well, no one really had a good explanation for that. We said that maybe the mommy bird was hurt, or even died, because some times that happens in nature, but none of our answers were really good enough.

I realized while we could give her scientific answers to her questions, they weren’t really the answers she was looking for. And really, don’t we all still have those questions? Why would a mother abandon her unborn offspring? Why do animals have to die? Where do they go when they die? Why do bad things happen to innocent beings?

I’m not sure what’s harder: telling my niece that these bad things happen or not being able to really explain to her why these things happen because I don’t know the answer myself.

Running in the Land of the Midnight Sun

The summer solstice rolls in on June 21st, ushering in the warmest days of the year (at least for those of us in the Northern Hemisphere). This is the longest day of the year, which when looking at the symbolic meaning of lightness and darkness, means we are truly approaching the high point of the year.

My father once said that the summer solstice always makes him want to jump in a car and follow the sun north to see how long the day will last. My sister and I sort of did this one year. We actually hopped on a plane—not the one we were hoping to get on, but that’s a story for another day—and headed north…first to Seattle (which we weren’t supposed to go to) and then finally to Anchorage, Alaska.

We were there to run the Mayor’s Midnight Sun Marathon (find our results here…look in the 5:06 range). We raised over $11,500 for The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society, thanks in large part to sponsorship by William B. Meyer, the man and the company.

We have many, many, many stories, adventures, and pictures (which are all from the pre-digital age, so they have to be scanned in before they make it on this blog) from our marathon training and that trip. You may read about it in our memoir Loose Bowels & Butt Chap (see comments). Oh wait, it’s not yet published…okay, it’s not even written yet. This is a good start, though.

Adventures at the Baltimore Orioles Game

Highlights from my first day in Baltimore include catching up with my sister, watching my nephew (the 9-year-old) chase after cars that potentially held Yankee players, getting a ball signed by Andy Pettitte, seeing A-Rod whack a home run off the first ball pitched to him in 2009, and listening to a couple of old ladies chatter away while paying very little attention to the baseball game.

So these ladies were at the game with their husbands. I’m not sure if they had ever been to a baseball game, but they did have some astute observations. For one, they noticed that some of the K’s that were posted on the scoreboard were forwards and some were backwards. They didn’t know what the K’s meant (one of their husbands explained that a K was posted for each strikeout the home team’s picture recorded), but they thought it was nice that some were backwards so the scoreboard didn’t ever show three forward K’s.

(Not that I disagreed about it being nice that there was never three forward K’s in a row, but that’s not the real reason why some of the K’s were backwards. A forward K indicates the batter struck out swinging, and a backward K indicates the batter struck out looking.)

They also noticed how cute some of the baseball players are (hello, Derek Jeter!!!). No arguments there. At one point they asked me if my nephew was my brother, which my nephew found pretty hilarious. I wanted to say to them, “Didn’t you notice my nephew calling my sister ‘Mom’? If I was his sister that would make her my mom as well…not really feasible!”

Then towards the end of the game, they called my husband “the best looking fella” in the stadium, and they also said that they “may be old, but they can still look.” My nephew again found all of this pretty hilarious, so the ladies turned their attention to him. “But you’ll give him a run for his money in a few years. You have beautiful eyes.”

I guess it’s not so bad having the same taste in men as a couple of old ladies. They’ve seen a lot, so they probably have good taste, right? (Let’s hope so for my husband’s sake.)

Star-Spangled Trip to Camden Yards

I went to Camden Yards for the first time this past weekend. I hadn’t been to Baltimore since eighth grade when my class stopped there for a few hours on the way to Washington, D.C, and was pleasantly surprised at all it had to offer. My brother-in-law and my nephew (the 9-year-old) have gone there a bunch of times over the last few years and really love the ballpark.
We went to see the Yankees play the Orioles on Friday and Saturday night. I swear there were as many, if not more, Yankees fans there than Orioles fans. I guess that’s because now you really do have to agree to give up your first-born child in order to pay for tickets to the new Yankee Stadium, unless you want to sit in seats with obstructed views (and I thought engineers were supposed to be smart!). I haven’t even been to the new Yankee Stadium yet and I’m already missing the old one.
Anyway, back to my trip to Baltimore. Let me warn you in advance (because no one bothered to tell me) that if you do go to Camden Yards keep on your guard during the singing of the Star-Spangled Banner. Orioles fans shout “O’s!” (short for Orioles) when it gets to the line “Oh, say does that…” Aside from having thousands of shouting fans scare the crap out of me, I had some mixed feelings about defiling our national anthem (who knew I was such a patriot?).
Up next: How my trip to Baltimore made me realize my observations are right in line with those of a couple of septuagenarians (scary, I know!).

« Older posts Newer posts »

© 2024 Katie L. Carroll

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑