Bernheim Forest – A “Holy Cow” of Springtime Delights

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There is something nearly Supernatural about this splendid forest, located about 25 miles outside of Louisville, Kentucky, bearing south on I-65. Bernheim Forest can give you its own set of facts and figures and detail its own history from its website right here: Bernheim(in its own words). But I can tell you from first hand experience, what they have done in terms of preservation as well as in experimentation is truly remarkable.

The structure below is their “Canopy Walk” – a bridge to nowhere – which exists to allow a person to admire a truly “bird’s eye view” from high among the tops of the local trees in the middle of the forest. The picture below that one is the view in its current early, raw Springtime form. One can readily see that this is a country ripe with rainfall and plump fat trees and plants, all set into sustaining soils – a richness which has that rare and intriguing quality of just seeming incredibly fortunate and uncommonly beautiful as a result. This is what “Pampered” means in Nature!:  😉

(left click any image to enlarge, click again for detail)

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Kentucky’s forests, especially in this central state view, are a typical riot of deciduous hardwoods, comprising endless species from native Kentucky Coffee Trees (yes, lol) to the Hickory Trees shown here – and onward, to Maples, Oaks, ‘Gums’ of all sorts, Elms and then – wow! – to the SpringTime wonders of the local world – Dogwood Trees and the Native Red Buds. All are just getting underway in the deepst sections of the forest and Bernheim provides drives and alleyways which one can explore either on foot via the well-kept and fabulous trails or even by just plain old car. Here are a couple of “road views” my Mom and I took while coursing through there yesterday:

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There is a somehow “innocent” appeal in the picture below. The simplicity and the big fat lush background of this volunteer Dogwood tree, all scraggly but proud, shows Nature’s best qualities. Survival and beauty coexist in a riot of simple floral beauty, spackling the environment with simplicity but remarkable – nearly Japanese Garden/Zen-like – gorgeousness of form and function.

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Moving along from literary license, we encounter other wonders in this Natural Paradise. Isn’t this pretty?:

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And this? Disgusting, isn’t it? We had a laugh as I named some of these groupings and trees. I called this one, for example “Hot Shot”. He’s totally in his element, man.

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But of even greater impact to many, and I have to include myself to a degree, is the work Bernheim has done in cultivating a captivating environment not just for the Natural side of things – but as a “Garden”. They have featured Kentucky’s greatest products – (no, NOT Bourbon!  That’s later.) – these “great” items being natural Bluegrass and these wonderful trees and plants, together in ways which clear the mind and soul with devastating vistas of glorious color and, really, totally extravagant beauty:

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And in this regard they feature the ‘Margins’ of natural forest and cultivation.

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This beautiful grove at the back end of Bernheim’s cultivated park area is exceptionally special to me. It is the location where we spread my Father’s ashes following his passing in 1983, spread far to the left of the statue and among his favorite spots on Earth. He has a headstone of course, at my Mom’s family plot in Illinois, representing his military service and occupying the space among so many of his friends from those days. They are no doubt delighted by yet more of his fun-loving foolishness and charm. But it is here in Bernheim where I find him in my heart. Yeah, Bernheim is special to me for this reason. He was just a terrific guy and I miss him. Pardon the interruption. But you have to admit it’s a cool spot, eh?

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This meandering road leads up to the Statue Garden above. The placidity and lushness of all these forms and colors provide the utter uniqueness of this wonderful place, designed by this marvelous combination of Nature and rigorous planning. The split rail fences are of the type which were commonest for farms and properties back when Kentucky was settled. Those modern lines never seem to get old – in spite of their simplicity. Nice Sycamore to the left, as well.

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I’m closing it down for now – I have 100 or so pictures and have really just begun. Tomorrow – or next post – I will deal with a most revelatory discovery – an absolutely unique grove of Magnolia Soulangiana cultivars and hybrids – the range of blossoms was stunning – with colors from brilliant purple and white to yellow and even to – I kid you not – green blooms. Here’s one now.Bernheim Spring 095

Baseball Stories – Twice Told Tales

In late May of 1966, Owensboro Senior High School hooked up with a crackerjack Shelby County team in the semifinals of the Kentucky Boys State Baseball Tournament for what would end up being One For The Ages. It remains legendary for me and those who participated – as well as establishing various still-unbroken records, now some 50 years later. One would have to believe that, having won the State just 2 years prior, in 1964, Owensboro would be rated as a slight favorite. We had two absolute Ace pitchers in Wayne Greenwell and Danny Howes, each of which had ERA’s one needed an electron microscope to find, each under 1.00. Each had improved their games from “already very good”, to plain dominant.

In our first game, we played perennial competitor and tournament rival Paducah Tilghman and beat them 1-0 behind a perfectly awesome pitching performance by Danny. The ballgame had the standard key moments but, in the last analysis, it was a game for pitchers who grossly over-matched hitters on both teams. For ball players, these games have their own elements of fascination. Like Major League baseball’s World Series or Playoffs, every single pitch thrown is an epic story. Moments of pressure are completely constant. It is a game of nerves.

I recall a beautiful late Spring Kentucky day, a bit warm but sunny with little if any wind. To call it “baseball weather” would be insulting to the Perfection of the day. Played at the University of Kentucky’s home field in Lexington, the field itself was especially well-groomed and, for an infielder such as myself, very true, at least during early innings until the dirt got chewed up a bit by the spikes worn by base runners and crossed by players entering and exiting during inning changes. Predictable ground balls are an infielder’s dream, while the sordid realities of bad bounces plague a shortstop’s night dreams like a platoon of Steven King clowns.

Shelby County had won the state basketball championship that season, just a few months earlier. Featuring future college All American, Mike Casey, who played shortstop they also had speedster Bill Busey and Ron Ritter, a hulking big sucker who could throw BB’s. Inasmuch as Ritter had won their first ballgame, they went with lefty Tom Hayden for a while.

As soon as the game got underway, there was action. Busey was the ballgame’s second batter and he hit an impossibly hot, worm-burning ground ball by our third baseman, down the line almost immediately into foul territory and which diabolically kept rolling, even beyond the fence which ended around 5 feet to the left of the line. Well, the ball was ruled “in play” even beyond the fence, a curious and unique local rule we were not familiar with and which Jack admitted he felt guilty for not advising us of. Our left fielder, Landy Lawrence temporarily gave up on chasing it down until Jack began screaming from our dugout to pursue and play it. By the time he corralled it relayed the ball to me and I threw it home, Busey easily slid under the tag for the first run of the game, now 4 minutes old. It was frankly bizarre and just a singularly freaky score. But it sure would matter.

Irritated, Greenwell proceeded to begin what became an absolutely overwhelming performance, mixing his sharp-breaking and exceedingly accurate curve ball with enough speed to startle hitters into submission.

In our next at bats, I led off with a sharply hit single to left. I had learned to steal bases, having found more speed than ever my senior year and gauging pitcher tendencies to an extent that I was about 95% successful on my steals during the season. I think I was thrown out once and even then, it was because a second baseman literally blocked the base. That I “got even” later is another story.

So I stole second base early on in the count. With the lefty on the mound, I had always found it incredibly easier to swipe third base. Plus, many pitchers were simply not accustomed to players stealing third. I went ahead and did so right away, so we had the tying run in position right away. This would happen 2 more times. I got on base 2 times more by the 5th inning, stole second and/or third and waited there – for “Godot”. I never scored.

I remember being on second base after one of the steals glancing at Casey at shortstop who was smiling as if he had some hidden joke. It caught my eye.

“You’re stealin’ third, aren’t you?” he asked.

“Next pitch,” I smiled back. He laughed hard. I took off and made it. I looked back with a grin and he pointed at me. I think he swore, but I can’t be sure. (We met after the game and exchanged laughs and family introductions. Mike was a good guy.)

Meanwhile, both pitchers were excellent. While we hit their lefty hard, we could not group any hits together enough to even score a run until, finally, Greenwell hit a towering shot with a runner on second that bounced over the fence, 380 feet away. Alas, we had finally broken through and scored the tying run. But, with that blast, Wayne caused a pitching change, bringing the hard-throwing Ritter in who caused us no end of tribulation. He shut us down that inning – he shut me down for the rest of the game – and produced very little room for optimism. He was throwing aspirin tablets up there.

We continued on past the regulation distance of 7 innings with neither pitcher yielding anything whatsoever. Wayne was simply nasty, but so was Ritter. Each potential threat was usually disposed of with strike outs, in fact.

In the 17th, Casey hit this diabolical blooper between me and center-fielder Billy Wellman. We collided, grotesquely – the hardest “hit” I’d ever felt in baseball –  a total surprise –  and my worst collision ever. I had the ball in my glove but the collision jarred it loose and Casey ended up with a double. A sacrifice bunt on their part later which led to a bobble, then an uncharacteristically bad throw by Bobby Hupp, plated a run and they scored again on another error – we blinked first.  Speaking of my experience of tight games, these were games which we typically won. We had so often waited for another team to break. This time it was us. Jack;s comment after the game: “We usually win games like this, but this one was not in the cards.”

5 and a half hours after the first pitch, we departed the field darn near in tears.

We mounted a tiny rally in the bottom of the 17th with Tommy Jones getting a hit but Ritter did his work and struck the last 2 players out. Our deflation was total. It was an empty sensation, especially in view of what Greenwell had accomplished on a strictly individual basis.

In my lexicon of Impressive Baseball Accomplishments, I’m not sure anyone will ever top what Wayne did that game. He must have thrown 200 pitches, for one thing. But of primary interest is the fact that he struck out 27 batters in a State Championship ball game.


Remarkably as well, he walked two batters – the same guy twice – Intentionally. No more.

(Actually, Owensboro has had a pitcher strike out more in one game, believe it or not, and it also came with Jack as head coach. Bobby Woodward once struck out 31 batters against Greenville in a massively ridiculous game where the opposing pitcher and a future Major Leaguer struck out 23 himself. It was a 14 inning game.)

The Shelby County game was the longest game – still – in Kentucky High School State Tournament History. The strikeout total is so overwhelmingly record-setting, there is no one close for second place. These days of 100 pitch limits so fashionable in the modern game, Wayne would have been gone in the 7th inning. I mean, 27 strikeouts is 81 pitches all alone!

The defeat was a bitter pill. Exhausted, Shelby County was beaten by Ashland in the Finals.

It’s somewhat ironic that the most iconic game I ever played in was a loss. The elements which took us so far over so many long years all played into the fact that we were there – vying for a State Championship at the highest levels – and with the amazing performance by Wayne Greenwell on a strictly individual basis which we now get to tell our grandkids about.


Azuma Makoto

What an intense and artful revelation this guy is. Azuma works in flowers and succulents and he takes flower arrangements to what I feel to be one of entirely fresh  new levels of artistic skill and acumen that define a craft’s greatest possibilities. He waxes from irreverent and edgy in his arrangements – for example his launch into space of the bouquet show in the picture below –


To more spare arrangements, made to photograph and immortalize………””Originally Flowers exist in the nature in a way they should be. But I always thought that flowers shine even more or strike you with their beauty deeper in our minds when I stripped them out of their natural environment,” says Azuma.

(Sakura Tree)

00flowers4 Displayed in blocks of ice:



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“I use flowers that are living. If I use their life to create a piece, I would like to create a work that should surprise the flower themselves, or the people who see them. I am an entertainer who uses flowers,” says Azuma of his art……….

00flowers6His best friend and a virtual co-worker is his photographer, for obvious reasons. The richness and wealth of lush detail are studies captured in a cooperative effort. Azuma oversees every iota of his work and his legend is quietly growing and he recognized a talented mate in capturing permanent images of his work, often showing the depth of color that a dark background can provide. Far from being a dark study in the standard concept of the term, the backgrounds allows the blooms to explode for the eyes..


This one below may be my favorite. Here he uses ample numbers of Proteus plants to extrude virtual light from within. Proteus to me rank slightly above the greatest Rhododendron blossoms as Nature’s finest blooms.

00flowers1300flowers 14But, like Isamu Noguchi’s restless range of artistic projects, Azuma also plays in realms he most certainly belongs in. This picture reminds me more of Salvadore Dali than of Nature although all the sculptures show here are representations of plant development.


He can make your office a snazzier joint too!!!  😉

00glowers12I’m not just late to the Azuma game, I only discovered him today. After stumbling across all this, I had to get deeper. I absolutely adore what this man does. He just turned me inside out, lol.


Beckly Creek Park – Part Deux


A gorgeous day made my Sunday morning sabbatical in Beckly Creek Park an absolute pleasure. The wildflowers show I missed. in earlier Spring carries some regret, but I’m somewhat on time for the next chorus of color in the vast wildflower patches punctuating the park as a border to the road through.DSCN1361[1]


The wildflowers come in swaths and literal pastures extending for distances in this stunningly well-prepared place.


So I decide Hell, I can take iff into this forest and wander a bit. It has a great entryway, lol.


Under the canopy everything changes – the air is cooler and fresher. Walking becomes a pleasure, looking for the next photo opportunity.


Beautiful bursts of bright sunlight are hugely contrasted as they light up the forest.


As always, at least when walking with me, if there is some creek to look at, chances are excellent I’ll do the looking. 😉  It was really brilliant this morning from this perspective of a post-holocaust flood of sorts. 😉


But further down took my breath away.


A look in the other direction, same creek, lol.


Pretty sweet.