I convinced Bhavna to come with me to the Hunterdon Land Trust Farmers’ Market. Earlier in the week, I ordered a rustic loaf of bread and a 7 year aged reserve cheddar from Bobolink Dairy and Bakehouse in Milford. I ordered online, but pick up is at the farmers' market.
Hunterdon Land Trust Farmers’ Market is hosted at the Case-Dvoor Farmstead in Flemington, about a 45-minute drive from home. We didn't know what to expect, but we pleasantly surprised. Beside Bobolink, we bought a few containers of spicy pickles from picklelicious for Kiran. She loves their pickles. I bought some native wildflower plants for my garden and roasted coffee beans.
Now for the strange bit. We stopped at one booth where a woman and her family were selling a sort of Balkan calzone and a sweet pastry which she thought I "needed". When I explained that I don't eat too many sweet things due to Type 1 diabetes, her husband, who was seated on the grass nearby perked up. He got up and insisted on praying for me to be healed. I was polite, but then it got weird when he tried to lay his hands on me. I did my best not insult the man when I insisted that I had to leave. But he persisted in explaining that disease was all in my mind and that he could cure me with prayer. Did I mention he was not wearing a mask and insisted COVID-19 was a hoax? Yup. Weird.
After the market, Bhavna wanted to go for a hike. We quickly ate our "Balkan" lunch, changed, and drove over to the St. Michael’s Farm Preserve. The last time we hiked this trail it was winter, the air was cold, and the ground was frozen. We had a blast then, but this time, we were miserable. The preserve is mostly open fields. The air was humid with temperatures just above 30ºC. We were wilting. Bhavna wanted to turn around, but we persisted and found a fork in the trail that took us into the forest. That was more fun, but the trail wasn't as beautiful as the Rocky Brook and Mount Rose trails.
I was in the kitchen when I looked out the window and saw this foal strolling across the lawn. I grabbed the Canon 70-200mm, gingerly slid open the sliding door and was able to snap some photos.
While driving home after breakfast at Aunt Chubby’s I asked Bhavna to take a walk with me along the Aunt Molly Trail of St. Michael’s Nature Preserve. I had mentioned to her that a few weeks prior, I had walked the Aunt Molly Trail after breakfast by myself at Aunt Chubby’s. After we started walking Bhavna mentioned that after our adult children returned to university for the winter semester that the two of us could develop a weekend routine of breakfast and after breakfast walk.
It was cold and windy and the trail was muddy and swampy, not at all like the frozen trail I walked a few weeks ago. We walked along on the grass to the side of the trail. Bhavna was concerned about walking out alone in the woods for fear she would be murdered and her body disposed of in a wood chipper. She asked about my concern when out by myself and I mentioned that I was far more worried about falling and hurting myself. We both agreed that our iPhones provided some comfort because we could be tracked via GPS. I guess we've been watching too many movies.
My wife is attentive. She had noticed that I had been looking at camera bags on my iPad Pro and wanted to know more. I told her that I wanted a camera bag to hold my Fujifilm X-T2 and a couple of lenses along with my diabetes kit, a small tripod, and some snacks but that I was having trouble making a decision. Some of the leather “Indian Jones” style satchels are expensive and I didn’t feel that I could justify the expense. But she reminded me that I was the type of person to buy quality items and use them for a very long time.
I also like classic canvas and leather look of the Fujifilm/Domke F-803 Camera Bag. But I don’t like the padded velcro dividers inserts that come with many camera bags. I would prefer to toss my lenses and camera body into the bag, using lens wraps and pouches to protect the lenses from damage in the bag. But the bottom of the bag may not be padded and I could damage my body so I would at least like some padding on the bottom of the bag. Argh! Choices!
We walked and talked further than when I was out on my first walk but eventually, the trail was too muddy, and we feeling cold so we turned around and walked back to the car. I'm looking forward to the next one.
On Saturday, I woke up, got dressed and drove to Aunt Chubby's in Hopewell for breakfast. Before my health challenges started, Aunt Molly was my favourite weekend treat, but I hadn't been there in several months. I packed my Fujifilm X-T2 + Fujinon XF16-55mmF2.8 R LM WR, iPad and Bluetooth headphones. Aunt Chubby is within walking distance from most of the homes in Hopewell. I wanted to get to Aunt Chubby's just as they opened to avoid the early morning local crowd, get a seat in the corner, and read blog posts while listening to music. I found parking right out front, which is rare, but now I know how to avoid the weekend breakfast crowd.
I found a table near the rear of the restaurant, and my attentive table attendant took my order, avocado toast with a poached egg on top and a cappuccino. The restaurant was mostly empty, with one man sitting at the breakfast bar and a few friends sitting in the other room.
During my commute last week, I caught up on listening to episodes of the FujiCast podcast, which I missed while going through my health challenges in the previous few months. The universe must be sending me a message because, on this particular FujiCast episode, Ian MacDonald was a guest talking about how photography helps him treat and overcome PTSD caused by years working in emergency medical services (EMS).
This got me thinking about how much I missed my form of stress reduction therapy, being outside [walking] around with my camera on the nature trails of the Sourlands. I finished eating, and while waiting for my check, I looked up as Jeff Hoagland walked in and sat at the breakfast counter.
Jeff Hoagland is a lifelong naturalist and the Education Director for the Watershed Institute. The institute is championing the environment of 950 acres of streams and woodlands in Hopewell Township. I met Jeff over a decade ago when I took my then elementary school children on an ambling nature walk along one of the streams in Montgomery Township. My kids had a blast; we took many more hikes with Jeff over the years. He's also a fan of American craft ales, and we often see each other in line during a crowler release at Troon Brewing.
I closed my check and walked to the breakfast counter to say. Jeff and I chatted for a bit. He noticed the camera and suggested I try walking a section of the St. Michael's Preserve which is accessible from Aunt Molly Road. I have walked another part of the St. Michael's Preserve earlier this year and was happy for Jeff's recommendation of something new.
In the Borough of Hopewell, St. Michael's Preserve includes 396 acres of preserved land, mainly between Hopewell-Princeton Road and Aunt Molly Road, but a portion of the preserve lies on the east side of Aunt Molly Road and is preserved by the D&R Greenway Land Trust. This is the section that Jeff stated was his favourite section of the preserve trails.
In 2004, the Diocese of Trenton asked D&R Greenway to preserve the property for $11 million. Working with our state, county, and local partners, we secured $8 million in public funding—the remaining $3 million needed to be raised from private sources. Faced with the frightening prospect of unwanted development, in the summer of 2006, a group of concerned Hopewell residents stepped forward to raise the remaining funds required to preserve the St. Michael's Preserve land.
The St. Michael's Preserve property had been owned by the Diocese of Trenton since the 1890s when an orphanage and industrial school were built in 1896. The facility closed in 1973.
Aunt Molly Road is about a five-minute drive from Aunt Chubby. I parked, donned my headphones, and started streaming Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon while I hiked along the icy trail, stopping to take photos of the woods and trail path with the changing morning light streaming through. I could hear the crunch of frozen dirt, grass, and ice underfoot.
A man with a dog approached from a fork in the path. I removed my headphones, said hello and commented about the cold. It was cold. I have not walked this trail before, so I had no specific plan for images. I listened to Dark Side of the Moon, stopping to photograph whatever light caught my eye. I stopped and stood to stare at the light, getting lost in my mind. Relaxing.
Despite gloves and thick socks, I got as far as the bridge before the cold air started to gnaw at my fingers and toes.