Grounds for Sculpture, Hamilton, NJ

This scary bigger-than-lifesize sculpture by Seward Johnson is as yet unnamed, but if you have
 an idea, Grounds for Sculpture wants to hear it. Note the contents of the steaming cauldron!

If anyone asks you to go to Grounds for Sculpture in Hamilton, you should

1. Go.
2. Don't wear sandals.

Go because it is a quirky, remarkable, one-of-a-kind place that will look different every time you go because of changing exhibits and changing nature. Don't wear sandals because many of the paths are gravel and larger stones and this becomes a challenge of grace and dexterity. Do bring the camera because besides the art itself there are vistas, flowers, trees, buildings, and peacocks to photograph.

A unique peacock perspective

Grounds for Sculpture is the creation of renowned sculptor Seward Johnson who acquired the old New Jersey Fairgrounds for his atelier and his clever park in the 1980s. The park has grown over the years since it opened in 1992 and its landscapes have changed dramatically. We old-timers who remember when the State Fair was in Trenton (actually Hamilton) until the 1970s would never recognize the place except that some of the original buildings have been re-purposed for indoor galleries and have kept their original State-Fair names.

Margie and Fred having some fun with Autin Wright's Lunar Brilliance (1979) in front of the
 Domestic Arts Building (1920s).

Most of the sites are outside along paths or hidden in little compartments formed by a variety of unusual trees. One could spend all day meandering, and sitting on benches contemplating, or imagining how to replicate a Chamber of Internal Dialogue in your yard. According to GFS's "Park Etiquette" document, photography is permitted, even encouraged, as long as it is for personal use only. I interpret this to include a humble non-monetized blog such as this, especially when citations are supplied. Here are more samples:

The Nine Muses (1990-7) by Carlos Dorrien, a nice place to sit and chill

Detail of Seated Figure from Womaen in the Sun (1988) by Leonda Finke (near The Nine Muses above)

On Poppied Hill (1999) by Seward Johnson (she's bigger than lifesize; the poppies are real)

Dana Stewart's What Was That? (1997)

So if someone suggests a ride over to Hamilton Township's Grounds for Sculpture, you're going, right?

Washington, Crossing the Delaware

We were a little late arriving in Titusville, NJ, this year for the annual reenactment of General George Washington's historical 1776 crossing of the Delaware River, but we got to see his boat land on the New Jersey side. By the way, Washington and his troops used Durham boats, manufactured in Pennsylvania since 1750 to cross the river. You can read more about them here: http://durhamhistoricalsociety.org/history2.html

You'll recall from eighth grade history that the Americans were not winning battles much at this point of the Revolutionary War. Washington, the great leader that he was, empowered the exhausted troops with his plan to cross the river from their camp in Bucks County, PA, to Titusville, NJ, and march south to Trenton. there they would surprise the Hessian soldiers who fighting for the British. The Hessians, thinking the war was won, were celebrating Christmas in Trenton. Other troops would join Washington's from Princeton, a few miles inland. Washington's plan, originally suggested by a man from Bordentown, NJ, (just south of Trenton), was successful and it turned the tide of the American Revolution.

The historic river crossing is reenacted every Christmas afternoon, and draws rather large crowds on both sides of the river. Uniformed reenactors mingle with the spectators, and some even pose for photos. (That's Gladys, held by her "cousin" Cecily, posing with some soldiers.) Gladys was not thrilled about this event because of the incessant cannon fire which sounded a lot like fireworks to her. She HATES fireworks. Gladys and I wonder: wouldn't cannon fire have alerted the partying Hessians that something was amiss upstream? We're supposing the cannon fire had more to do with showing off artillery than authentic reenactment, but that is just conjecture.

This year's crossing went smoothly from what we could tell, but it doesn't always. Back in 2007, Washington's boat was swept away by the swift current (towards Trenton), and we got a side view.

All was well as 21st-century rescuers were waiting on hand, and Washinton's troops finished their triumphant march through the park.

The Hamilton-Trenton-Bordentown Marsh

I write a lot about Cape May, so much so that many readers probably assume that I live there. No, it was my parents' home, I was born there, and my sister and I maintain our family home there. I planted myself in Hamilton, NJ, because I'm near highways, trains and airports that lead me to all the places I like to visit. (Was that a long story not made short enough?)

My house sits on a bluff overlooking the Hamilton (-Trenton-Bordentown) Marsh, now a county park, but hundreds of years ago it was Lenni Lenape territory. Hunters would wait in what is my backyard for game to appear in the marsh below. Location, location, location.

At the turn of the last century and after, there was an amusement park in the marsh centered around Spring Lake. It was built by a trolley company so that people in Trenton would have a reason to ride the trolley on weekends. This stairway is leftover from that time. Visitors would walk down these steps to get to the amusements after riding the trolley through my current neighborhood's backyards. The houses on my street were built in the 1950s, but this neighborhood is a hodgepodge of single homes, duplexes, and rowhomes of all ages. There is even a mansion once owned by Joseph Bonaparte, Napoleon's older brother. I don't think he lived there, but his mistress did, and he lived on the other side of the marsh in Bordentown. Location, location, location.

Today the marsh is a great place to go to photograph nature in all seasons. In spring, the water lilies begin to bloom in Spring Lake.
And the Old Man Tree is surrounded by new growth.

In summer, wildflowers abound and avian residents hang near the lake to stay cool. This photo, "Single Cattail," actually sold at a marsh photography show a few years ago.

In fall, the leaves turn and start to drop revealing less obstructed views like this one of beaver lodges.

In winter, it's a treat to stand in my backyard and see the marsh covered with snow. Location, location, location.